The ZedHeads relentlessly pounded against the shop's windows, the glass cracking and buckling under the force of the undead. Hunter's chest tightened; no this is all wrong! Why did you all have to come here! Look what you all have done now!
Travis, standing near, broke his thoughts. "Now's not the time for this. We need to move now!" Travis's voice was low, but it carried the weight of urgency. "Get up, wipe your eyes, and help us get out of here!"
The words snapped Hunter into military focus. It was as though the tears that had clouded his eyes evaporated instantly. The weight of grief and anger still sat heavy on his chest, but there was no time. No time to mourn. No time to feel. Not now.
He rose, turning to the others with the steely determination of a soldier who had seen too much. "Everyone, grab a weapon and follow me!" His voice was commanding.
The group sprang into action. Eli and Travis clung to their weapons, while Steve hefted his spear, a strange excitement burning in his eyes. "You know what I got," Steve grinned, giving the weapon a twirl despite his limp.
Paris's gaze darted around the room, catching sight of a dusty crossbow mounted on the wall. She rushed over, her fingers brushing against it as if reconnecting with an old friend. Her archery skills, long buried, would soon prove invaluable. "Come to momma, girls," she muttered, grabbing a bundle of arrows and securing them on her back, just above her briefcase.
Jake, still shaky from his earlier close call, spotted a machete mounted on display and snatched it. He gripped it tightly, praying he wouldn't need to use it but knowing that was a vain hope. Janice chose a large hand knife, small enough to conceal in her pocket but lethal in close quarters. She murmured to herself, "Hold on, my babies, Momma's coming."
Martha's eyes gleamed as she grabbed a bat, swinging it experimentally. "There goes my bad boy," she said with grim satisfaction.
Hunter grabbed his shotgun and stuffed extra ammo into his pockets. He gave his parents' corpses one last glance. "Let's move," he ordered. "Stick close—no one gets left behind."
They slipped out the back door, the cold night air hitting them like a wall. Behind them, the shop's front windows finally gave way. The glass shattered with a deafening crash as the ZedHeads surged inside. Travis quickly slammed the door shut behind them, buying a few precious moments.
Outside, the town of Macon, Georgia, lay in complete darkness. The streets were empty, as if death itself had passed through and left only a hollow shell behind. Hunter led the way, his eyes locked ahead, scanning for any movement in the darkness. Every shadow seemed to pulse with the potential for horror, every whisper of wind sounding like the moan of a ZedHead.
Janice and Paris walked close behind Hunter, both of them silently exchanging glances. They couldn't ignore the questions that had been gnawing at them since Hunter's earlier outburst. Janice, unable to wait any longer, stepped closer to him.
"Mr. Hunter," she began, her voice trembling slightly, "Back there, you said we can't trust the military. Why? Is my family, okay? Is there really a camp?"
Hunter's face tightened, his jaw clenching. He didn't respond right away, his eyes scanning the street as they moved. Janice pressed on. "Please, tell me. I need to know."
Paris chimed in; her voice sharp. "We all need to know. Is it safe there? What's going on?"
Hunter finally stopped, turning away to face the group, taking a deep breath. Eli and Travis stood guard, keeping an eye out for any signs of the undead, while still keeping an ear to Hunter.
"I don't know," Hunter said softly, almost too soft for them to hear.
"What do you mean, you don't know?" Janice asked, her voice rising with panic.
Hunter shook his head. "Look... all I know is they have one mission. Sure, they save some people, but nothing gets in the way of that mission."
Paris narrowed her eyes. "What mission?"
"There's a list of names," Hunter replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "They need to find them—at all costs."
The group stood in stunned silence.
"What list?" Paris asked, but Hunter shook his head again. "I left before I could find out. I chose my family, but... they didn't care. Not about families. Not about anything other than that damn mission."
Janice's face crumpled, her hope fading into dread. The thought of her children and husband being pawns in some shadowy military operation chilled her to the bone. The group stood there, the weight of Hunter's words pressing down on them all like a suffocating blanket of fear.
After a moment, Eli spoke. "Son, do you know where this camp is?"
Hunter nodded grimly. "Yeah. I can take you there, but... that's it. I don't want any part of the military."
"Alright," Eli said, his voice firm. "Lead us there."
They continued moving through the dark streets until they came upon a suburban neighborhood. The once-quaint houses now stood like tombstones, their windows shattered, doors hanging off their hinges. "We should rest," Eli said. "We won't make it if we're exhausted."
Hunter didn't argue. The group made their way into one of the abandoned homes, barricading the door behind them. The smell of decay hit them immediately. Bloodstains splattered the floor, the remnants of a family's last stand.
Suddenly, a loud crash from the back of the house sent their hearts racing. ZedHeads. They were here.
The undead burst through the back door, their rotting forms lurching into the house. " Where have all these ZedHeads come from? More and more are becoming our new norm!" Paris thought. Hunter and Eli reacted first, blasting the nearest ones with their weapons. The air filled with the sounds of growling, gunfire, and the sickening crunch of bone as Travis and Steve went to work on the others.
Paris, crossbow in hand, fired bolt after bolt with deadly precision, each one sinking into a ZedHead's skull. Jake watched in awe, surprised by her skill—it stirred something unfamiliar in him, a flicker of admiration he hadn't expected. But there was no time to dwell on it. Shaking off the thought, he swung his machete, clumsy but forceful, hacking at a ZedHead lunging toward him.
The battle was savage. The stench of blood and decay thickened the air as the group fought for their lives. Travis swung his ax, splitting a ZedHead's skull, sending a spray of blood across the room. Martha's bat connected with another's head, the sickening crack of bone echoing through the cramped space. Steve drove his spear into a ZedHead's skull, ending its thrashing with a gruesome, final thrust.
In the chaos, Hunter was caught off guard. A ZedHead lunged at him from the side, its filthy teeth sinking into his flesh. He cried out in pain but quickly shot it in the head, sending its corpse slumping to the ground. He didn't look down at the bite. Not yet.
The group managed to fend off the ZedHeads, their bodies littering the floor in bloody heaps. Everyone was exhausted, panting heavily.
As they gathered their breath, Hunter stood against the wall, his face pale.
"What now?" Janice asked, her voice shaky.
"We rest now, and board up what we missed." Eli said firmly. "At first light, we move. We can't afford another fight like this one."
But Hunter didn't move. He stayed where he was, a haunted look in his eyes.
Paris noticed first. "Hunter?" she asked, stepping toward him.
Hunter closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. "I'm... sorry," he whispered. He lifted his shirt, revealing the bite wound on his right side. The flesh was already blackening around the edges.
The group fell silent, horror settling over them like a cold fog.
To be continued...