Crowd and Guns
As his senses blurred, John heard a jumble of footsteps and heavy breathing—those were Wolf and his crew!
Alarm bells went off in his mind; he wanted to escape, but his body felt as if it were filled with lead—he couldn't move at all.
Suddenly, from about the 46th floor below, he heard a distinctly human voice!
"Check over there—he's probably hiding here!" It was Hellfire's voice! They were closing in!
"Damn it, where did that bastard go?" Wolf's roar echoed through the corridor, each word hitting John like a heavy hammer to the heart.
"Search every floor—don't let him slip by!"
John's heart pounded; he could feel the shadow of death drawing ever nearer. Just when he was on the brink of despair, a soft hand gently supported him.
Who was it? John forced his eyes open. In his blurry vision, a delicate face appeared. Was it her? The woman he'd once saved? She wasn't supposed to have left already—why was she here in his room?
The woman cautiously peeked out, and once she was sure the hallway was empty, she quickly pulled John into the room.
"Bang!" The sound of the door slamming shut was like music to John's ears.
…
When he woke up and opened his eyes, John looked around in confusion. Strangely enough, his body didn't hurt anymore. He cautiously got up, walked around the room, throwing punches and kicks—none of it seemed to affect him at all. "Damn, this zombie body is seriously tough!" he thought.
"Holy shit, these internal injuries healed overnight! Even broken bones just fix themselves—what a miracle!"
Soon, John noticed a small note had appeared on the table.
He picked up the note, which read:
[Mr. Zombie,
Thank you for saving me last time. As a token of my gratitude, I saved you this time too. This place used to be my home, but since the rules of the world have changed, it's now your territory. Of course, I couldn't reclaim it—after all, I'm terrified of being eaten by you.
Thanks again, and if you can understand this, feel free to leave me a message at the door.
I've also left you the key.
—Elizabeth]
After reading the note and seeing it on the table, John was filled with shock—apparently, his intelligence had been noticed.
John hesitated. He was so lonely that even communicating through a note would be far better than this crushing isolation!
Yet he was also afraid of being discovered. If humans caught wind of his secret ability to stay rational and fearless around zombies, he'd become the hunting target of every surviving human organization—simply because of the secret power he carried.
As he gazed out at the rising red sun, a new day had begun. John wondered how he should proceed in the future. Did he really want to hide on the 48th-floor rooftop like a rat in the dark, waiting for those unpredictable Zombie Chasers to blow his brain out or snatch away his evolutionary crystals?
Or worse, what if Elizabeth revealed his secret one day, and he was hunted down by all of humanity and locked up in a lab as a lab rat?
No, no, no! That could never happen! John gritted his teeth as he ripped the note to shreds. Clenching his fists, he vowed, "I'm going to get strong—strong enough that no human or zombie will ever threaten me!"
He chose to reject any further communication.
An immense surge of rage rose within him—the note had sparked an overwhelming sense of crisis.
His secret of retaining human consciousness had always been his most guarded secret. Even if Elizabeth was just guessing, once suspicion arises, the charges are already in place!
And when a second person learns his secret, it ceases to be a secret at all.
Sooner or later, the humans would come for him. This place was no longer safe.
"I have to get strong—fast—and leave this place!" The crisis drove John into a fit of ruthless determination. Facing the rising sun, he let out a thunderous roar!
As if in response to his defiant shout, every powerful zombie and every mutant among them began to roar in challenge!
Their roars echoed throughout the city!
Somewhere, Elizabeth—awakened by the roars—got up and strolled onto her balcony. Listening to the continuous, rising roars, a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "It looks like Mr. Zombie really does have a mind," she murmured. "This is only going to get more interesting."
…
Finding powerful zombies, killing them, and seizing their evolutionary crystals to upgrade—this was the most important task right now!
John walked slowly down the street. He'd been out for two days now, yet he hadn't come across a single mutated zombie—only hordes of vacant-eyed, expressionless zombies, mindlessly lolling their tongues and screaming about hunger.
For some reason, the zombies' aggression seemed even stronger than before. Along the way, John saw many zombies clawing at each other, black blood and shattered limbs flying everywhere—a sight that made him feel utterly nauseous.
Of course, for John—who'd already evolved twice—these zombies posed no real threat. He could now take one down with his bare hands.
Suddenly, a gunshot rang out ahead. Though faint, it caught everyone's attention. All the battling zombies stopped their assault and stared blankly in the direction of the sound.
John found it odd—the sound wasn't from the heavy weapons typically used by the Zombie Chasers. It was from a shotgun that any ordinary civilian could buy—a shotgun!
Could it be from a human survivor? John's fangs flashed as his bloodthirsty instincts kicked in. Even though he no longer feasted on humans, the sight of fresh flesh still stirred his primal urges.
One gunshot followed another—apparently coming from about half a mile ahead!
All the zombies started converging toward the sound, slashing their claws and drooling, as if they were a moving forest of undead!
John shuddered as he realized that what had once been a quiet street was now suddenly flooded with thousands of zombies—like a torrent, arms waving, black claws glistening like a moving zombie forest!
For a moment, the zombies seemed to put aside their grudges, united by their hunger, and began to stagger toward the sound.
Determined to see what was happening, John broke into a mad run. His powerful muscles contracted as he ruthlessly shoved aside any zombie blocking his path—charging forward like a heavy tank toward the direction of the gunfire.
Along the way, zombies were knocked down left and right, hissing as they fell. Some were even thrown high into the air, landing in a jumbled mess!
Soon, John reached the source of the gunfire—but his eyes went wide in shock!
There were over 200 people ahead!
About a hundred able-bodied men, armed with all kinds of firearms, were fending off a horde of zombies drawn by the gunshots. Dozens of elderly women and children huddled together, desperately retreating to the city's edge under the protection of these armed men.
An endless wave of zombies surged forward. Although they moved slowly, they stretched out their arms, waving their T-virus–infected claws and drooling, fearlessly charging toward the crowd.
…
Elena was a 21-year-old girl in a tank top and jeans. Once a cheerful and outgoing girl, she now wore no smile at all. Clenching her silver teeth, she fearlessly faced the zombies lunging at her. With two 9mm pistols in hand, she fired rapidly, decapitating approaching zombies one after another!
"Elena! Hurry, come help me!" A tall man, loading round after round into his shotgun, called out for Elena as he looked back. Dozens of zombies were almost upon him!
"Damn these zombies—send them all back to hell!" With her 9mm pistols now empty, Elena tossed them aside, knocking two zombies down. Reaching for her belt, two gleaming revolvers appeared in an instant. "Boom, boom, boom!" she fired rapidly, decapitating the zombies that were about to pounce on the man.
"Jack, are you okay? We're about to be breached!" Elena shouted in a panic. A zombie, with its body broken below the waist yet driven by its bloodthirsty instinct, almost grabbed her ankle—sending shivers down her spine!
"Boom!" The shotgun fired again, turning that half-dead zombie into a mess like a sieve. Jack, the man reloading his weapon, bellowed, "A breach? Haha, I'm the best at sealing holes!"
"Shut your damn mouth! Go get fucked with the zombies!" Elena, though a beautiful girl, naturally let out a string of coarse expletives.
But Jack just laughed heartily, covering up the anger that was quietly rising within him.
The gun trembled as spent casings clattered to the ground with a crisp, tinkling sound. In less than two seconds, Jack reloaded his revolver, which fired again in a flash.
As several zombies lunged from the right, Elena spun around like a whirlwind, shooting—but in a misstep, she accidentally grazed her calf on an exposed rebar, leaving her bleeding profusely.