Meanwhile, in the not-so-distant city of angels.
The sight of a working car in the apocalypse was as rare as finding an eel’s egg. When the group of survivors heard an engine rumbling in the distance, their hearts skipped a beat.
The West Coast was doomed. At least from the whispers and rumors they heard. California had fallen, and everyone wanted to leave the state, but leaving on foot was more dangerous than staying there.
However, that changed with a car.
They ran towards the noise with everything they had. Even so, they weren’t careless. The noise would attract not only other survivors but zombies and even mutants.
"Climb up and see what’s happening," the burly man and the group’s leader said, shoving a couple of people upstairs.
"It’s an old jeep!" someone yelled from above.
"Of course it’s an old vehicle," the man scoffed. "Did you expect to find a sports car there? Tell me what’s happening around it!"
"Um... the sun is shining, the pavement looks cracked with long grass—"
It was a good thing the man was bald. If not, he’d have ripped it all away in frustration.
"Are. There. Any. Zombies. THERE!"
The man was startled by the sudden outburst but quickly shook his head.
"No hostiles in sight."
The bald guy let out a sigh of relief before assembling the group.
They went ahead with a basic strategy. Half of them would stay back to keep watch and for reinforcement if needed. The rest would vigilantly approach the car.
After they got the car, they’d siphon the fuel from other cars or fuel stations and head straight towards the border. That was their plan. However, it had an obvious flaw.
"Boss... one car won’t be enough for everyone—"
"Who says we’ll take everyone?" the bald guy said with a smirk. "It’ll be just us. Depending on the car’s condition, we can attach a trailer to it for a couple of girls and leave."
A frail-looking guy wanted to express his dissatisfaction. However, the moment he opened his mouth, the bald guy grabbed his skull and crushed it. It exploded, marking the place with blood and brains.
He then turned around, staring at the watch party. The moment their eyes met, everyone on the terrace averted their gaze as if they had seen nothing.
"Does anyone else have a better idea?" the bald guy asked, wiping the blood off his hands on the dead man’s clothes.
That was the name the bald guy gave himself after awakening his monstrous strength. His skin had hardened to the point that even bullets couldn’t penetrate it.
Essentially, he was a wild bear in human form.
The rest of the way was spent with no one saying a single word. Within five minutes, they saw the prize.
"...forget about a trailer," Bear mumbled. "It’ll be a miracle if it holds more than five of us."
When the scout said old, he didn’t think it would be a relic. Faded paint and a rust-covered body didn’t exactly spell confidence.
As they got closer, they noticed the missing doors and the bonnet that was being held by strings. The windshield was cracked, making a spiderweb-like pattern all over.
One tire was shorter than the rest, probably an emergency repair. Two spare tires were thrown in the backseat. Only its seats looked restored. The rest was running on hopes and prayers.
"That’s a Jeep CJ5," someone commented. "Judging from its condition, it must be over sixty years old. Forget about crossing the state, we’d be lucky to cross the city in this thing before it breaks down."
The man’s words made sense. The thing belonged in a scrapyard, not on the road. But there was something else that troubled Bear.
Zombies had evolved, but even he didn’t think they could start the rust bucket. It must have been a human. That was the whole reason Bear brought the squad with him, thinking he’d have to steal the vehicle.
However, there was no one in sight. The vehicle was abandoned in the middle of the road.
"See if it runs," Bear said, nudging his underling with knowledge of cars.
The man shrugged and climbed on.
"Well, it has a key," he said, turning it.
However, instead of the sound of moving the vehicle, they heard a sickening squelch.
A thick metal rod shot out from under the dashboard, impaling the driver in the chest. His blood splattered across the cracked windshield.
The man didn’t even have the time to scream before he was pinned to the seat.
"Stay where you are!" Bear yelled as a few people stepped towards the vehicle. "Spread out!"
The group hesitantly left the man and stepped back. Someone had clearly set a trap for humans. But who?
The zombies they had fought against were nearly intelligent enough to make such a trap. Only a human could have done it, but then why would someone hunt other humans?
They scanned the surrounding buildings, but saw no one.
An arrow whizzed past Bear’s head, hitting the throat of the man behind him. He fell to the ground, clutching the arrow’s shaft as blood gushed out of his mouth.
Everyone panicked, but two more arrows came down, this time from behind. Then another, and another.
Even those who tried to run away or seek shelter met their end. In less than ten seconds, the group of sixteen individuals had been reduced to one.
Bear angrily turned around. He had left guards to warn them about this exact situation, yet he didn’t hear a word from them.
However, it wasn’t their fault. Dead men couldn’t help anyone. Especially those hung by their necks.
"COWARDS!" Bear roared, looking around. "Show yourselves—!"
His words were cut short as an arrow hit his shoulder, burying in it. The skin that deflected bullets couldn’t stop an arrow.
Bear was stunned. More arrows flew at him. He tried to dodge, but they kept following him until they hit him in the knees.
Only when he fell to the ground did the attackers reveal themselves.
Five people emerged before him. Two jumped down from trees behind, another one from the tall grass. The last two just materialized before him as if they were made of air.
But there was something else. All of them were wearing cloaks... made of human skin.
Bear tried to yell, but was pinned to the ground. A man twice Bear’s size forced his mouth open and pulled his tongue out.
A thin figure stepped up, borrowed an arrow from one of the rest, and raised it over her head.
"For the Blightlord," she said.
"For the Blightlord!" others repeated as the woman pierced the tongue with the arrow.