These dudes were no rookies behind the wheel. They eyeballed the van's sagging tires and the way it hugged the road, and figured it was packed to the gills with goodies.
"Yo, check it, dinner's rolling our way!"
The skinny dude's eyes lit up like he just spotted a winning lotto ticket.
They guessed some lucky survivors must've hit the jackpot with supplies and were cruising back, loaded for bear.
"Think they got any smokes in there?"
The bearded guy mused, fingers crossed for a nicotine fix.
As the van got closer, they spotted a chick driving.
"Man, her luck just ran out bumping into us!"
The skinny guy's eyes flashed mean as he fired up the big truck, timing his move like a pro, mashing the gas and barreling forward.
He swung the truck across the road, blocking every possible escape route.
'Screech~~~'
Emma, seeing the roadblock, slammed the brakes. Tires screamed, leaving a tattoo on the asphalt.
The van jerked to a stop, inches from the truck.
"That was way too close!"
Emma's heart was pounding.
The sudden stop shook the van, and Jake in the back smacked into something with a 'clang', instantly regretting giving Emma those high marks earlier.
Zane, cool as a cucumber, didn't need to see to know what was up.
Right on cue.
Two dudes hopped down from the truck, looking like DIY warriors with their arms wrapped in duct tape and newspapers, wielding steel pipes stained with who-knows-what.
"Out of the van, now!"
The bearded guy barked.
Emma scanned the scene, piecing it together fast. In this dog-eat-dog world, it was eat or be eaten.
"Boss, what's the plan?"
Zane stayed quiet, sizing up the two goons. They looked like they could be buddies of Liam, the guy who trashed his store, probably from the same crew.
He eyed a construction site nearby.
That was their 'gift drop zone'.
These jokers weren't worth his time, so he figured he'd let his crew handle it.
But the two middle-aged dudes were clueless about the storm they were about to walk into.
They swaggered over to the van, grinning like they hit the jackpot.
"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll take real good care of you,"
the skinny guy oozed sleaze.
Just then, inside the van, Zoe perked up.
"Sweetheart?"
Someone was calling her...
Love.
That's what she craved from humans...
These guys seemed friendly enough.
So, she flung the van door open and hopped out.
The skinny guy was just reaching for the door, ready to bust it open if they didn't cooperate.
"Ouch? Ain't she a looker? Play nice, and maybe I won't have to hurt you."
"Co...operate, hehehehe~~"
A chilling laugh tickled his ear.
Zoe had her fill of meat today and had picked up a few new tricks, like mimicking sounds and simple tunes.
But to the man, that laugh was pure nightmare fuel.
He whipped his head around...
There he was, staring at Zoe's creepy grin as she morphed into a blur and lunged like a tornado.
Her moves were so slick, she left ghost images in her wake.
"Dude, no way!"
The dude was freaked out big time.
He tried to swing his steel pipe, but Zoe was lightning fast, tackling him to the ground and skidding across the dirt.
"Ivan, get your butt over here!"
The skinny guy was flailing, shouting for backup.
But Ivan? He was on his own mission, mumbling about needing a smoke as he headed to the van's back.
"You... Ah—!"
The skinny guy's curse got cut short by a nasty bite to the neck, Zoe's special way of showing 'love.'
That's when he really felt the burn...
Meanwhile, Ivan, desperate for a drag, flung open the van door, expecting a stash of goodies.
Instead, he locked eyes with faces straight out of a zombie flick.
Nathan just smirked, kinda entertained.
Jake was still ticked off from getting tossed around earlier, all thanks to this clown.
Ivan's jaw dropped.
No smokes, no booze, just a couple of real-life zombies staring back at him!
But then it clicked.
He snatched the half-burned cig from his ear, lit up, and took a deep inhale, a cloud of smoke circling his head.
Next thing, a beefy hand yanked him into the van.
Silence fell.
Emma was making faces in the car.
"This is messed up."
She figured these guys didn't check their horoscopes today, bold enough to block her boss's path.
Finally, Zane chimed in.
"Let's hit up that construction site next door."
"Uh... sure."
Emma nodded, clueless about the plan but knowing better than to question the boss.
She steered the van around the truck blockade, heading for the construction site.
The place was ringed with blue metal sheets, the gate busted down. Around it, zombie corpses were strewn about, smashed by trucks, a real horror show.
Following the tire tracks, they drove straight into the site.
Zane was piecing things together, figuring this spot was a survivor stronghold, probably linked to the goons they encountered today.
Enough was enough. To stop further trouble, Zane decided it was time to wipe this place clean.
Getting the 'go' signal, three of his crew hopped out, psyched for some action.
They were stoked about following Zane—always some action, always some fresh meat.
Inside the site, it was dead quiet. All the zombies had been clubbed to oblivion.
These folks weren't pushovers.
Ahead, a half-built building loomed, desolate but for a weird structure at one corner.
The building was all reinforced concrete, super thick, no windows, just a steel door and some tiny air holes.
It stood three stories high, solid like a fortress.
Clearly, it was a zombie-proof bunker...