Zombie In the Shadow

A crowd of people had been pushed into a small plaza by an ever-growing horde of zombies. Everyone's face turned ashen as they stared at the endless, bloodthirsty army of undead, and some of the desperate ones had already begun to huddle together and cry their hearts out.

Rick was the leader of these people. He had organized everyone and led them to hide in a tall building for a long time. At first, there were as many as 500 people, but now the number had dropped to less than 300.

It was like facing a demon! Just the thought of that dark figure filled Rick with fear and anger.

In the beginning, when food and water ran short, the group of 500 had been forced to flee. Things were relatively calm at first because they moved around at noon—when the strong sunlight would dampen zombie activity so that only the weakest, most ordinary zombies roamed the streets.

But then that demon—the wind-like demon—appeared, and this once strong team started to show signs of collapse.

It was like the very shadow of death, like a scythe wielded by the Grim Reaper. Every time it showed up, it swept through like a hurricane. Before anyone could even get a good look at what it was, it vanished as quickly as it came. All that was left was someone suddenly collapsing to the ground, clutching their bleeding throat, warning everyone that a man-eating demon had claimed another life, snatching away a tortured soul.

And the killing didn't stop there! This creature seemed to be out for pure fun—it kept hiding in the shadows, repeatedly killing people. Unlike ordinary zombies that just mindlessly feast, it would linger behind the group, popping up now and then to ruthlessly murder its victims.

Out of the original group of over 500, more than 100 had already fallen by its hands!

"Oh my God! Is this your doing, a punishment sent from above to make humanity repent?" Rick thought bitterly as he looked at the tide of bloodthirsty zombies and the desperate, crying children in his group. His heart felt like it was being torn apart.

"Rick, we're done for—we're almost out of ammo! We've got to break out now!" a tall man squeezed his way through and shouted.

"Oh, Phillip, do you really think we can break out now? We've got guns, so those with weapons might manage a breakout, but what about the old folks and kids who are unarmed?" Rick asked, clutching a police rifle whose origin was a mystery.

His face was etched with anxiety—after all, he was responsible for over 200 lives.

Phillip leaned in and whispered, "Drop the dead weight—we've got guns, so we can break out!"

"What? No way! They're our family—our friends! How can we just leave them behind? So many of their loved ones died protecting us! And now, we're supposed to just watch them get bitten or die? Absolutely not!" Rick exploded with anger, shouting furiously.

The people around them, hearing Rick's angry tirade, started to realize what was happening. They looked at Phillip, and something just didn't sit right with them.

Under the hateful glares of the crowd, the ruthless Phillip looked a bit uneasy, but he still glared back and tried once more, "I know, Rick, but seriously—what time is it? This isn't the time to play heroes or set examples. If we don't break out soon, these endless zombies will use up all our bullets and tear us apart! In the long run, we need to leave a spark for humanity. We can't all die here! Damn it, I don't want to die! I'm only 30—my life's just getting started! I'm not about to let these damn zombies turn me into meat chunks!"

Many people in the crowd started to get the message. Some, thinking more about saving themselves, began scanning around for an escape route.

Seeing Phillip's reddened face, Rick looked as if he'd aged several years. His hand holding the gun began to tremble as he opened his mouth to speak—but no words came out.

Finally, under Phillip's expectant gaze, Rick said, "Phillip, if you want to leave, then go ahead—I'll stay back and protect them. May God bless you!"

Before Phillip could answer, a cold, eerie gust of wind swept through—as if a chilling wind from hell itself, as if the Grim Reaper had arrived. A dark shadow flitted by, and then showers of blood splattered like cherry blossoms dancing in the air.

Rick, in disbelief, clutched his throat as a stream of blood, unstoppable and unyielding, burst forth from his fragile skin. The blood mist, forced out by his arteries, gushed like a fountain—but no one saw who had ambushed him right under everyone's watchful eyes. Even with armed humans around, their leader had been struck without anyone knowing who did it.

He fell backward, gazing up at the sky as life slowly drained from him. Coughing up blood, he grabbed Phillip's arm, staring at the old folks and children around him, struggling desperately not to lose consciousness.

Phillip, understanding what Rick meant, said, "Alright, I promise—I won't abandon them!"

With that promise, Rick squeezed Phillip's hand tightly, slowly slumped down, and with a peaceful look on his face, exhaled his final breath.

Chaos erupted. With their leader gone, people began scrambling in panic and the defense line quickly started to crumble.

"Hiss!" A few zombies, taking advantage of the distraction among the defenders, broke through the firepower and charged into the crowd, attacking and tearing at several people.

"Shoot! Shoot them all!" Phillip took over as the leader, roaring as he fired his gun, blasting both the wailing humans and the attacking zombies.

But as long as there was even a tiny gap in their defenses, it was a sign that everything was about to collapse.

A dozen or so zombies broke in; everyone frantically shot them down, but meanwhile another dozen people ended up getting scratched or bitten.

"This can't go on! At this rate, we're all gonna die!" With a fierce expression on his face, Phillip shouted at the armed men, "Those with guns, come with me! If you're injured or bitten, leave them behind! The old folks and kids, stick with me!"

Seeing no real response, Phillip shouted urgently again, "Quick! Those with guns, come over—ditch all the dead weight and let's move!"

Some finally got the message. Those who valued their lives slowly joined Phillip, turning away so as not to witness the endless cries and panic around them.