Episode 87: CLUD MED, Arrived.

To get to CLUB MED, we had to head northeast from Rat Town. The road ahead wasn't exactly safe, and we knew better than to expect an easy ride. About a kilometer into the journey, our instincts were proven right—we encountered a pack of mutated hyenas.

There were four of them, snarling and barking aggressively, their grotesquely altered bodies moving with unnatural agility. The mutations had twisted their already feral nature into something far worse—erratic, unpredictable, and bloodthirsty. The moment they spotted our truck; they immediately gave chase.

"These guys really are hungry… look, even with that kind of appearance, they didn't stop at all" I am not even shock right now, but rather quite impressed at the hyenas.

Scarlett, gripping the edge of her seat, scoffed. "Persistent little bastards, aren't they?"

I sighed, keeping my eyes on the road. "Well, they picked the wrong truck to mess with."

Before I even had to give the order, shots rang out from the back of the truck. Natasha, who had already climbed up onto the truck bed, took aim with her rifle. One shot, one kill—the first hyena dropped instantly, a clean bullet hole through its skull.

Selene, sitting next to her, smirked. "Show off."

Scarlett wasted no time joining in, raising her shotgun and firing at the next one. The impact sent the creature tumbling, its mangled form skidding against the dirt road. Two down, two to go.

I steadied the wheel as Alfred, from inside the truck, calmly lined up his shot with his sidearm. "Two targets remaining," he noted before squeezing the trigger. Another clean headshot.

"Well, that's three," I muttered.

The last hyena, realizing its pack was dead, hesitated for a moment before foolishly lunging at the truck. It barely got a few meters before Natasha put another round through its skull.

"Four down, Babe, turn the truck around," she confirmed, lowering her rifle.

I exhaled through my nose. "Alright, let's check them out."

We pulled over and climbed out of the truck. As was tradition in the wasteland, nothing went to waste. These mutated hyenas, while grotesque, were still edible—at least the non-mutated parts, this mutated hyena although tasted horrible, it is food, and if we don't take it, someone else would.

Scarlett crouched beside one of the corpses, inspecting the flesh. "Meat's still good in some parts," she noted, expertly cutting away the grotesque and cancerous growths. "The bad bits, though? We keep those."

I raised a brow. "Keep them? What for?"

She grinned. "Bait."

Selene, nodding in agreement, added, "Zombies are mindless. They'll go for anything remotely edible. If we dump this near the hospital entrance, they'll come right out thinking it's a free meal."

I had to admit, it was a clever idea. "So instead of going in after them, we make them come to us."

Scarlett smirked. "Exactly. Saves bullets, too."

With that plan in mind, we gathered what we needed, Selene, Scarlett and Natasha skillfully and correctly butchered the 4 Hyena, with Alfred hold the carcass up like a crane. I am sure that 100% reason as to why the meat old in the market tasted worse is because they did not bleed their meat correctly. After securing the bloody remains in sealed containers before hopping back into the truck. With the hyena threat eliminated and a new strategy in place, we continued our journey toward CLUB MED.

By the time we arrived, it was already 1 o'clock in the afternoon. The sight before us was almost eerie—CLUB MED had clearly once been a luxurious private hospital. It stood alone, isolated from the rest of the city, surrounded by an expansive parking lot.

I let out a low whistle. "Damn. This place must've been top-tier back in the day."

Natasha, peering through the truck window, nodded. "Looks like something straight out of a sci-fi movie."

The hospital itself was a three-story building, its design reminiscent of the 1940s futuristic aesthetic. Even after years of decay, it still retained an air of grandeur. Surrounding the property was a once-vibrant hedge wall, now overgrown and wild. The spacious parking lot, once reserved for the elite, was now cracked and littered with debris.

Scarlett folded her arms. "Only the richest of the rich would've had the privilege of being treated here."

Selene, surveying the area, added, "Which means the medical tech inside is probably decades ahead of anything we'd find elsewhere. If those medical automatons are still intact…" She trailed off, a glint of excitement in her eyes.

I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. "Then we just hit the jackpot… Alfred, Layla please scout the area please,"

"Yes Master, " Alfred and Layla nodded, both of them went off into the distance.

I directed Alfred and Layla to scout the perimeter of the building. Both acknowledged the order and quickly moved out, disappearing behind the overgrown foliage and cracked walls. Meanwhile, we parked the truck roughly a dozen meters away from the hospital's front entrance, positioning it sideways. The mounted .50-caliber machine gun that I manned was aimed directly at the entrance.

Selene, Scarlett, and Natasha began their final equipment check, methodically preparing for the upcoming onslaught. They inspected their firearms, loaded fresh magazines, and exchanged extra ammo with one another. There was an unspoken energy between them—focused, yet oddly cheerful.

I raised an eyebrow. "You two look way too happy for people about to fight a horde of zombies."

Scarlett grinned. "It's just refreshing, you know? Usually, we'd be sharpening machetes before a fight. Now we're just passing ammo around."

Selene smirked. "For once, we don't have to worry about conserving bullets."

Hearing that, I felt a surge of pride. I had provided enough for my wives—not just enough to survive, but to fight without hesitation, to the point that they were going to hunt zombies with a smile on their faces.

Ten minutes later, Alfred and Layla returned. "Perimeter clear," Alfred reported. "Side and back entrances are blocked by wrecked cars. This is our only way in."

Scarlett wasted no time. Moving swiftly, she set up the lure. She scattered the blood directly in front of the entrance and placed the discarded, rotting flesh about fifteen meters away from us. The trap was set.

Now, all we had to do was wait.

Scarlett ran back to us, taking her position. Within seconds, the first zombie stumbled out of the door, its rotting frame lurching toward the bait. It didn't hesitate—it threw itself onto the bloodied ground, desperately consuming the foul-smelling meat.

Then, more came. Dozens.

A grim smile spread across my face as I gripped the handles of the machine gun.

"Alright, ladies!" I shouted. "Open fire!"