"Alright."
As they turned a corner, a loud crash echoed through the hallway, causing Don to snap his head up. "What was that?" he whispered, his hand gripping his gun tighter.
Kia gulped down his fear, his heart racing rapidly. He hoped Don would retreat, but Don kept moving forward, leaving Kia no choice but to follow. After all, Don was the only one with a gun.
"It stinks," Sofie muttered as the awful smell filled the air.
This caused Kia's eyes to water as he tried to breathe through the putrid scent. "What is that?" he asked, using his shirt to cover his nose.
"Looks like we've got a bloater," Don responded. "You know, dead decaying zombies."
"Aren't zombies already dead and decaying?" Kia asked, his voice muffled through his shirt.
Don nodded. "Yeah, but these ones are different. They're really dead. You know, zombies that had been shot in the head and left to decay," Don explained.
Kia's eyes widened a little. "So they're like… zombie corpses?"
"Bingo! We call them bloaters because of the way their bodies swell up after they've been dead for a while. And the smell… well, you can tell for yourself."
"Yeah, it's pretty bad," Kia responded. "I hope they won't wake up again or something."
Don chuckled grimly. "They're basically dead. They won't be waking up again. They're just… leftovers."
That sounded a little reassuring, but it didn't stop the eerie feeling creeping up his spine.
Sofie buried her face in Kia's shoulder. "I don't like it," she whimpered.
The floor became soft and squishy under their feet, and with every step, a sticky, sickening sensation clung to their soles. The darkness made it impossible to see, but the feel and the stench were unmistakable—they were stepping on something vile. His skin crawled with every step, and he couldn't shake off the feeling that they were being watched by unblinking eyes.
"Keep moving," Don said.
It took a little while to find their way through the darkness. After several attempts and bumping into each other multiple times, they finally reached the storage room.
The door was slightly ajar, and the smell was almost unbearable. Don pushed open the door with his foot, his gun raised as he scanned the room for any threats.
The storage room was cramped and cluttered, but the metal cabinet in the corner was their target. Don hurried over, yanking the cabinet doors open and revealing an array of firearms and ammunition.
"Grab whatever you can carry," Don instructed, slinging a rifle over his shoulder and stuffing his pockets with ammo. He quickly grabbed a shotgun and tossed a handgun to Kia.
Kia, still holding Sofie, struggled to grab the handgun and some extra magazines. He looked at the weapons. "Do you really think we can fight our way out of here?" he asked.
"We don't have a choice," Don replied grimly. "It's either fight or get eaten alive."
Kia sighed in response as he kept staring down at the handgun.
"You know how to use this?" Don asked. He recalled how Kia had stolen his gun and threatened to shoot him if he didn't let him go. Although Kia seemed tough then, Don had seen enough to know better.
The memory of the moment flashed through his mind, recalling how Kia had been so desperate and scared. When Kia had fired the gun at the zombies back then, his aim had been terrible. He hadn't managed to hit a single one, let alone kill any.
Kia caught the gun awkwardly, his hands shaking. "I've… seen it done in movies," he admitted. He shifted uncomfortably. "So I know how to use it," he added.
Don rolled his eyes. "Great. Well, aim and pull the trigger. Just don't shoot yourself or me. Let's hope you've improved," he said dryly.
Kia didn't respond; instead, he focused on adjusting Sofie's arms and securing the handgun at his side.
Don continued to rummage through the storage cabinet, his hands moving quickly and efficiently. After a few moments, he pulled out a flashlight, flicking it on to illuminate the small room. The beam of light cut through the darkness, revealing the grimy walls and piles of debris.
"Here," Don said, tossing the flashlight to Kia. "Hold onto this. We'll need it."
Kia caught the flashlight awkwardly, his hands still shaking, while Don continued to search the cabinet. After a few moments, Kia couldn't help but ask, "How do you have all these weapons? We're just in a mall."
Don glanced over his shoulder, a grim expression on his face. "We found an abandoned military truck not too far from here. It looked like it was heading out of the city in a hurry and didn't make it. Lucky for us, it was packed with weapons and first aid supplies."
Kia's eyes widened. "An abandoned military truck? How did you even find it?"
Don shrugged, continuing to rummage through the cabinet. "We were scouting for supplies and stumbled upon it. At first, we thought it was a trap, but it was clear that whoever was driving it didn't make it far. The truck had been overrun, and the soldiers didn't stand a chance."
A shiver ran down Kia's spine. He tightened his grip on Sofie, who was still clinging to him, her face buried in his shoulder. "What happened to the soldiers?"
Don sighed, pulling out another flashlight and a few more boxes of ammunition. "Most of them were already dead when we found the truck. Those who weren't had turned into zombies. It was a mess, but we managed to salvage what we could before more of them showed up."
Kia nodded slowly, trying to process the information. "So, that's how you've been able to hold out for so long?"
"It's only been two days, but yeah," Don replied, his voice heavy. "They seem to be multiplying rapidly. Every time we take out one, it feels like two more take its place." He paused and turned to face Kia. "So you see… you can't really blame us for having you two locked up. It's not like we wanted to, but we couldn't take any chances. If one of you turned, it could have wiped us all out." Don paused, lost in thought. "Or so we hoped… but it didn't matter. The barricades has been breached. The mall is flooded with who knows how many of those creatures out there. Now, we can only pray we make it out alive."