It didn't take long for the zombies to notice him, and to start shuffling his way. He was surrounded on all sides; the monsters were everywhere.

  Although the ICON messages hanging above their heads gave him a sense of where they were, it was still dark in the cafeteria, and Stu did not want to be caught unawares. So he quickly activated his Night Vision skill, which lit up the room, transforming night into day and allowing him to see his surroundings with much more clarity. He almost instantly regretted it, however, because now that he could see better, he could see every revolting feature of the zombies now stumbling his way -- their empty eye sockets, their half-melted faces, their missing limbs, and the horrible damage done to their bodies. One zombie had had his scalp ripped away, revealing the white bone of his skull, while another was oozing black blood out of a missing nose.

  A scrawny male zombie, a Level 2, was the first to reach him. Stu yanked his knife out of the dead rager's palm and stabbed it in the neck as it came flailing at him, then pushed it away just in time to confront another zombie, a female Level 1 -- he picked up a chair and slammed it sideways into her head. He had only intended to push her aside, but his greater strength added greater impact to the blow than he had intended, and she went careening into a wall, her head making a sickening noise as it smashed into it. She fell backward, her limbs going limp.

  Level 1 Zombie defeated!

  Critical Bonus!

  Ignoring the message, Stu used the chair to swat at another zombie, just to get it away, but this one was a Level 6 and it barely budged when he hit it. This zombie might have made a good basketball player -- it was very tall, at least six-foot-seven, and it had long, lanky limbs. Stu threw the chair in its face, then jumped up on a table to get away from the other zombies who were now beginning to swarm him.

  There were a dozen of these damn things, and more of them were entering the cafeteria from the hallway. Stu struggled to fight down his panic -- he was surrounded by the undead, and his only remaining weapons were a handful of small knives and his own supernaturally-enhanced strength. There was no sign of Lucky, either; he had no idea if the kid was still alive. Was this the end?

  He shook his head and gritted his teeth. If he was going down, he was going down fighting.

  The Level 6 was the biggest threat at the moment. It lunged for him, reaching out with its long arms. Stu kicked it in the head, stunning it for a second, then grabbed its head with one hand and jumped off the table, using gravity to help drive it head-first into the floor. This was another maneuver that he never would have been able to pull off before acquiring his enhanced strength, and even now, he wasn't sure it would work, but when the zombie's head hit the floor it cracked like an egg, spraying blood and brains everywhere and splattering all over Stu's face.

  Level 6 Zombie defeated!

  He had no time to rest on his laurels -- another zombie was already grabbing at him from behind. He spun around, knocked its arms down, and wrestled it around him, holding it by its shirt and using it as a shield against the other oncoming zombies. The one he had stabbed -- the one with the knife still in its throat -- managed to get around him, but Stu, acting quickly, was able to knock it down by throwing the other zombie into it; both of them fell to the floor in a tangle.

  Another zombie dove for him, catching him by the pant leg. He kicked at its head, but the zombie hung on, and when Stu tried to step back, he stumbled and fell to the floor. Now there were three zombies looming over him, ready to fall upon him, bite him, and/or rip him to shreds.

  This was it. He had done his best, in this cursed zombie-world -- he had survived the subways, killed a jumbo and a rager, acquired a few skills, and even managed to make it to level eight -- but he was surrounded now, and alone, with no chance of escape.

  He expected his life to flash before his eyes, but it didn't happen. All he could see, in that moment, were the horrifying, rotting faces of the zombies closing in on him. He started to close his eyes...

  ...And then, in the blink of an eye, one of the zombies lost its head, which flew from its shoulders and landed with a thudding crack right next to Stu. Another zombie received a kick to the chest, sending it flying backwards, and a third stopped dead when the broad blade of a machete punched into its throat. The blade remained there for a second, then twisted itself free, in the process decapitating this zombie as well. Blood sprayed like a fountain out of its neck.

  "You all right?" a male voice asked him.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Stu looked up.

  The man standing above him looked like he had just stepped out of a Mad Max movie. He was a big, formidable character -- about Stu's height but much more compact -- wearing a long leather duster and holding a bloody machete. He had a jagged scar on one side of his face, and a tattoo of a dragon wrestling with an angel on the other side, which ran down to his neck. His hair was buzzed short -- short enough that Stu could see several more scars on his scalp.

  In addition to the machete, he also had two long rifles slung over his back, a pistol on his hip, and a belt of ammunition over his chest.

  "Who are you?" Stu asked.

  "Name's Hauser," he said gruffly. "You all right?"

  "I think so."

  The man helped him to his feet, but there was no more time for pleasantries -- the remaining zombies were coming for both of them now. Hauser used one hand to flip over a table, using it for cover, then said to Stu, "Get down."

  "Get down?"

  "We've gotta take out that bomber," he said. He handed Stu his machete, then drew his pistol and aimed it over the overturned table, at one of the zombies. This one had an obscenely large gut, and was stumbling around and crashing into things as though it were drunk.

  Stu ducked behind the table. At approximately the same moment, Hauser opened fire, dropping the "Level 1 Bomber", which exploded in a spray of blood and viscera. The gore was too far away to reach them, but that explosion had been incredible, shaking the whole room. And now the cafeteria was filled with an absolutely appalling smell, something like raw sewage and decaying corpses.

  "Hold your breath," Hauser warned. "It'll take a second for that to clear."

  Stu did as he was instructed. He did, however, risk a peek over the table. The bomber had annihilated several other zombies when it had gone off, but there were still several remaining, and more of them were continuing to enter the room.

  After spending a few more seconds crouched behind the table, Hauser patted Stu on the shoulder and said, "All right, pal. Let's have some fun." And then he grinned.

  "What? What are you--" Stu started to say, but Hauser had already leaped over the table and started attacking the zombies, blasting them with his pistol, but also kicking and knocking them around like he was having the time of his life.

  Stu was tired, and bleeding, and the lingering smell of the bomber's guts was making him nauseous, but he nevertheless forced himself to his feet and followed Hauser into battle, using the machete to chop at any of the undead who got in his way. He killed a Level 2, and then a Level 4, cutting at their hands when they grabbed for him and slicing their heads off to finish the job. The ICON system started flashing all kinds of messages at him:

  Level 2 Zombie defeated!

  Level 4 Zombie defeated!

  Critical Bonus! Earned 1 SP!

  But he was getting "assistance penalties", too, because Hauser was stealing his kills, finishing off zombies before Stu could see to it himself. The man was a whirlwind, and he fought like a maniac, with no thought to his own safety. He actually looked like he was having fun, laughing as he blasted his way through the horde. The putrid smell of the bomber's entrails was soon replaced by the smell of gun smoke.

  Stu himself got no satisfaction out of killing zombies, which was gruesome and disgusting work, but he did his part, killing several more, including another Level 4. This one had been an overweight woman, and built like a tank; Stu received another mysterious "Critical Bonus!" for killing this one. He had no idea what the criteria for these bonuses were, but he seemed to get them more often when he dispatched a zombie quickly or in a particularly creative way.

  It took them several minutes, but the two of them finally managed to dispose of all of the zombies in the cafeteria. The room had become an abattoir -- the floor was slippery with silver-streaked blood, and almost every surface was covered with gore. Hauser, coming down off his fighting high, snorted out a final laugh and shoved his pistol back into its holster.

  "Thanks," Stu said, panting from the effort. "You saved my life."

  "Yeah," the man said. "You owe me one."

  "Who are you?"

  "I told you, my name's Hauser."

  "Are you...do you belong to the Wild Pack?"

  "Yeah." He looked around the room. "I might be the only one left."

  "What happened here?"

  "Zombies got in through the underground parking garage," he said. "Someone left the door unlocked." He smirked at this, as though he were enjoying some private joke. "A rager got in, killed a bunch of guys. Caught 'em by surprise." The man stopped and studied him. "I don't recognize you. You don't run with the Pack, do you?"

  "No," he said. "I came here looking for someone." Suddenly reminded of Lucky's predicament, he pushed past Hauser, headed for the door -- he needed to get back upstairs and see if the kid was all right -- and slid to a stop, because a young woman was standing in the doorway, barring his way. She was holding a rifle, which she was aiming at his head.

  "Don't move," she warned him.

  He put his hands up. "We're not zombies," he told her.

  "No," she said. "You're worse." Her rifle moved over to Hauser. "I want my keys, Madhouse."

  Madhouse? The leader of the Wild Pack? Stu glanced at the man, who did not appear to be bothered by the fact that the woman had a gun to his head. In fact he was grinning broadly.

  "You're Madhouse?" Stu asked.

  "I get called that, sometimes," he admitted, with a dangerous twinkle in his eye.

  Stu turned his gaze back to the woman. "And you're..."

  But he didn't need to be told who she was, because at that moment, the ICON system suddenly flashed a message in front of his face:

  Quest "Looking for Luna" completed!

  Level Up! 8-10

  Gained 4 SP!

  Access Menu?