“We can’t get out of this! We got lucky once, but there’s no military to save us now…” Mark’s voice cracked, panic creeping in.

  "Where are our weapons?!", John asked, searching for his baseball bat.

  "You passed out, I had to carry you inside!" replied Mark.

  “Please, tell me you have a way… Please!” Mark's voice was loud, desperate.

  John lowered his gaze to the floor. “I… I do…”

  Mark sighs, his voice faltering “You don’t have to lie, y’know…”

  The cabinet rattled violently. The door groaned under the relentless pounding. It wasn’t going to hold.

  “Damn it…” Mark clenched his fists. “I don’t wanna die yet…”

  John rushed to the window, scanning for any way out. His eyes landed on a car parked beside the horde. Before he could even process the thought, the blaring screech of the horn from the vehicle shattered the chaos.

  The pounding on the door stopped.

  John’s breath hitched as he watched the entire horde shift, heads snapping toward the sound. Then, in one grotesque, unified motion, they swarmed the vehicle, banging against it, denting metal, their rotting bodies pressing against the windows.

  “Mark… look!” John pointed.

  Mark hurried to his side, staring in disbelief. Slumped over the steering wheel, an Undead corpse was the unintentional savior, its weight pressing the horn, keeping it screaming through the streets.

  “We gotta go!” John turned back,

  And froze.

  A figure stood in the doorway, shadowed against the dim light.

  It was Ash.

  “Whoa… You came back…” John exhaled, his voice laced with shock.

  Ash’s expression was unreadable, her voice cold and clipped. “Come on. We don’t have time.”

  John nodded, ready to move.

  Mark, however, didn’t.

  He was stuck.

  His gaze locked onto her... those striking blue eyes, cold yet mesmerizing. Her sharp, wolf-cut hair framed her face with effortless grace, her presence was magnetic, unreal. Like something pulled straight from a dream. Porcelain skin, delicate yet fierce. Her voice... her beautiful, perfect, lovely, sweet voice... A beauty so raw, so untouchable, it made his chest tighten.

  How… how is she so perfect?

  John furrowed his brows. “Mark…?”

  Ash raised an eyebrow. “Uh…?”

  Mark blinked. His throat went dry.

  Ash cleared her throat. “Anyway… let’s move.”

  As the three of them slipped out of the rowhouse, their breaths came in ragged gasps. The horde had been left behind, the agonized moans fading into the distance. For a moment, it seemed like they had a chance, until they stumbled straight into him.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  The man in the tuxedo.

  But this time, he wasn’t alone.

  Ten men flanked him, all armed, all waiting. The metallic glint of automatic weapons caught the dim light.

  “Well…” The tuxedoed man sighed, tilting his head. “Bad move. You should’ve kept walking, Ash.”

  He stepped forward, raising a sleek black handgun, pressing the barrel against her forehead.

  “You had potential, y’know?” His tone was almost disappointed. “But I guess… potential can only remain as potential.”

  His finger curled around the trigger.

  BANG!

  Ash didn’t flinch.

  Because she wasn’t dead.

  Because the gun had no bullet.

  A flicker of confusion crossed the tuxedoed man’s face. His men raised their rifles, fingers squeezing their triggers.

  Nothing.

  Click. Click. Click.

  Empty.

  “What the---?” The tuxedoed man’s eyes darted to Ash.

  She smirked, tapping her big bag around her back. “What do you think’s in here?”

  Realization dawned. “You... You snatched everything we had?! You said you only took half!”

  He lunged for her throat. Ash moved faster. She ducked low, sweeping his legs out from under him. The man hit the pavement hard.

  A blur of motion, Ash’s hand darted into her pocket, pulling out an ice pick. She raised it high, ready to drive it down.

  Then that scream.

  “RAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!”

  Their blood ran cold.

  The tuxedoed man’s soldiers barely had time to react before it struck.

  The creature... inhuman, grotesque, landed on one of the men, its claws tearing through him like paper. Blood sprayed. Organs spilled. The air filled with shrieks of agony.

  Then, like a phantom, it moved.

  One by one, it ripped through the men’s torsos, carving a path of carnage, their hearts torn from their chests in mere seconds.

  “Shit!” The tuxedoed man scrambled to his feet.

  Ash turned to John and Mark. “RUN!”

  She didn’t wait for them to respond.

  She slammed her boot into the tuxedoed man’s face, sending him sprawling once more.

  The creature was already upon him.

  John and Mark were running.

  Ash caught up, her breath heavy. “Dammit! EVERY TIME!”

  Mark, wide-eyed, could barely speak. “Oh shit, man… OH SHIT!”

  Behind them, the tuxedoed man’s screams filled the air, louder than the gunfire that never came.

  John clenched his jaw. "Any ideas where to head?!"

  After hours of walking, Ash managed to carjack a car and get it running. She, John, and Mark settled in, catching their breath and planning what to do next.

  "Where are we going?" John asked.

  "Pennsylvania," Ash replied, eyes fixed on the road.

  "Why Pennsylvania?" Mark asked, puzzled.

  "Don't you want to be rescued by the military?" Ash shot back.

  John's eyes widened. "Wait... the military? Is the evac there?!"

  "Yeah," Ash said, without looking at him. "The evacuation center’s in Pennsylvania. They were transporting people out of Brooklyn."

  "My daughter could be there!" John said, his voice tight with hope.

  "How can you be so sure?" Ash asked, raising an eyebrow.

  "I..." John’s voice faltered, unsure.

  "Exactly," Ash said with a smirk, keeping her eyes on the road.

  Mark sighed. "It's worth a shot. If his daughter's there, at least we’ve got a reason to push on."

  Ash rolled her eyes, the sarcasm thick in her voice. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ll drop you off, don’t worry."

  "Drop?" John echoed, confused. "You aren’t coming?"

  "Why would I?" Ash replied, a laugh barely contained in her voice.

  "Because it's the military base! Don’t you want safety?" John asked.

  Ash chuckled darkly. "Did you see the military safe zone they tried to set up in Brooklyn? That went to shit the second the infection spread."

  Mark chimed in, "Probably because of that creature..."

  John nodded. "Yeah, what the hell is up with that thing? Leaping so fast, ripping through people... What the hell is that?"

  Ash chuckled, her eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and something darker. "Oh, you've met my buddy, huh?"

  Both men stared at her, confused. "What?" they said in unison.

  Ash laughed, her voice echoing with something cruel. "I'm just messing with you."

  She cleared her throat, turning serious. "Anyway... That thing you saw, the one that didn't kill you for some reason... is called 'Patient Zero.'"

  "Patient Zero?" John repeated, his voice tinged with disbelief.

  Ash nodded, her face hardening. "Yeah. When the infection first spread, there weren’t many undead. The government tried to make a cure, but it went... wrong."

  "How wrong?" John asked, leaning forward.

  "Well, first, Patient Zero started shaking, growling, screaming in pain. His skin boiled like it was being burned alive. His fingernails... they’re claws now, used to rip through anything."

  John looked horrified, but Ash continued, voice steady, almost clinical. "They tried to kill him. But Patient Zero didn't die. He got up and started a fucking massacre in the lab."

  Ash looked like she’d seen things too terrible to describe. "To be honest, I don’t even know if it's a 'he'... or an 'it.'"

  Mark raised an eyebrow. "How do you know all this?"

  Ash gave a half-shrug, eyes flicking to the rearview mirror. "Because... I just do. I heard things."

  John blinked, trying to process. "So, it’s called 'Patient Zero,' huh?"

  Ash didn’t answer immediately. She just stared ahead, as if lost in thought, before muttering, "Yeah. Patient Zero."

  Ash continued, her voice cold and matter-of-fact, "During the first few hours of Patient Zero's existence, the infection spread across the globe. There weren’t many infected at first, But Patient Zero? He was the one who turned them. The real catalyst."

  John and Mark listened intently as Ash’s eyes darkened with the memory. "Patient Zero leaped across rooftops, drawn to the sound of military choppers transporting civilians out of Brooklyn. He attacked one of them, leaped straight through it, tore through every soldier on board."

  Ash, her expression unreadable. "Only a few made it out. The rest were... shredded. Soldiers were killed, civilians screamed. Panic spread faster than the infection itself."

  Mark chimed in, inhaled sharply. "And the noise... drew Patient Zero’s attention. It attacked and turned civilians into Undead."

  Ash chuckled darkly. "Yep. You got it. Patient Zero clawed through the civilians, and just like that, they became the next wave of the Undead."

  Mark fell silent, the weight of it settling in. Ash raised an eyebrow, her voice laced with mockery. "Oh, you were there, huh? What, are you gonna get PTSD or something?"

  She laughed, the sound bitter and hollow, before continuing, her tone shifting. "If you survived that mess, you’ve got guts, I’ll give you that."

  Mark chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, if we're talking guts, John’s got more than me. Second day of the outbreak, and he was already out there, running for his life. Could’ve stayed home, barricaded himself inside, but nope! Dove straight into hell."

  John smirked. "Yeah, and I’d be dead if someone didn’t swoop in and save my ass. So, uh... thanks for that, badass."

  John and Mark slumped back in their seats, exhaustion weighing them down as Ash kept her focus on the road, the hum of the engine the only sound cutting through the silence.

  Then...

  THUMP.

  A heavy impact shook the roof.

  "What the hell---?!" Mark blurted out.