Zhang Chong held up two H95 bayonets—30.2 cm long, with 17.8 cm blades of high-chromium stainless steel, 0.4 cm thick, 3.5 cm wide. Designed as firearm bayonets, they doubled as combat knives and survival tools, capable of stabbing, slashing, sawing, filing, and cutting barbed wire with their sheaths. “Not standard guard gear, is it?” Chen Liu asked suspiciously.
Zhang grinned. “Friend hooked me up. Haven’t used ’em till now.” Chen Liu’s face tightened, realizing Zhang’s real goal wasn’t just the security room’s gear but these bayonets. Clever, he thought, a faint smirk crossing his lips. “Here, Brother Chen, take one,” Zhang offered. Chen Liu accepted, feeling a bit appeased. Useful for close calls, he thought, recalling his earlier helplessness against the five-star zombie. A dagger could’ve turned the tide.
“Pack up. We move,” Chen Liu said. Zhang’s claim of only two five-star zombies felt off. Running into one so quickly wasn’t just bad luck—zombies were evolving faster than expected. A six-star could be lurking. His expression darkened. They stuffed their bags with gear, urgency driving their hands.
Stepping into the hallway, a five-star zombie appeared, charging with a roar. Damn it, Chen Liu thought, his face paling. “You two go! I’ll hold it!” he shouted, lunging forward, not to fight but to buy time. Noise here would draw a horde. Zhang and Fang bolted for the fire exit.
Bang—the zombie slammed Chen Liu’s round shield, forcing him back two steps. Too strong, he thought, his jaw clenched. The shield balanced his defense, letting him swing his axe in sharp arcs while blocking. Smarter than lower ranks, the zombie dodged direct clashes after one hit, its claws screeching against the alloy. Chen Liu fought, retreating to the door. With a final axe swing to push it back, he slipped out. Zhang slammed the door shut. Guaaargh—a howl echoed. “It’s calling others! Run!” Chen Liu barked, his face ashen.
They sprinted, but the door burst open. Chen Liu glanced back—two five-stars and a four-star gave chase. No way! His heart was pounding, scalp prickling. One five-star was manageable outside; three was suicide. “Drop the bags!” he yelled, shedding his gear to run faster. Fang, last in line, fumbled his pack, tripped in a puddle, and fell with a splat. The lead five-star closed in.
“Help me!” Fang screamed, his face white with terror. “Shit!” Chen Liu cursed, turning back, his expression torn. Zhang muttered, “Idiot,” but followed. “You two take one five-star—I’ll handle the rest,” Chen Liu’s voice was steady despite the odds. No holding back. He was ready. The apocalypse spared no one. After a week of bloodshed, he’d toughened, even found a thrill in the chaos—a primal rush. If you can’t fight it, embrace it, he thought, a fierce glint in his eyes.
Fang and Zhang lured one five-star away, giving Chen Liu space. Facing a four-star and a five-star, he positioned his shield against the weaker one, axe aimed at the stronger. Sounds simple, doesn’t it? His face was taut. The five-star’s cunning speed probed his defences, sandwiching him. Claws raked his armour. Fang was useless against a five-star; Zhang was cracking under pressure. We’re all dead if this keeps up, Chen Liu thought with urgency.
As the four-star staggered, Chen Liu acted. Abandoning his rear, he lunged at the five-star, axe slicing its thigh, opening a gaping wound. Guaaargh—it roared, slashing at his face. Chen Liu dodged, but claws grazed his cheek. The five-star, scenting blood, went berserk, clawing at his face and arms. The four-star joined in. I’m screwed, he thought, his face contorted with strain. But his senses suddenly sharpened.
His mental perception flared, feeling the four-star’s approach. Feinting at the five-star’s wounded leg, he spun, axe smashing the four-star’s skull. Got it, he thought, relief flashing across his face. But the swing exposed his back. The axe stuck. The five-star, enraged at the trick, tackled him, sinking claws into his neck. Its eyes locked on his crystal—a zombie’s prize, just as humans craved theirs. Nature’s brutal, Chen Liu’s face was pale with dread.
The zombie’s leap surprised him—zombies didn’t usually jump. My mistake, he thought, panic surging as its fangs closed in, death’s breath hot on his skin.
thINKer: That cliffhanger… way too steep.