The thick, metallic stench of blood hit him instantly. Ahead, two or three shadowy figures loitered near the stairs.
"Sir, there are approximately three to five zombies in the corridor. Exercise caution," Ego warned. Without a surveillance system in the old apartment, Ego had to rely on street-level monitoring, estimating the numbers by tracking when the zombies entered and exited the building.
"I'll be careful," Zack whispered, inching forward.
At the corner of the stairwell, three zombies came into view, each one covered in bite marks, pieces of flesh missing, and their eyes blank and lifeless. These ones hadn't been drawn out by the bait.
Zack took aim with the nail gun, pointing it at one zombie's head. He carefully squeezed the trigger.
BAM! BAM! BAM!
The faint sound of air pressure was almost unnoticeable as a nail shot through the zombie's eye socket, exiting from the back of its skull in a spray of dark blood. The creature staggered forward a step or two before collapsing.
The noise alerted the remaining two zombies, but before they could even react, Zack fired off two more nails. Both zombies crumpled to the ground, one struck squarely in the head and the other, a bit off-target, needed two more nails before it finally fell.
"Almost out of ammo," Zack murmured, feeling the nail gun's power weaken. He had maybe two or three shots left before it ran dry.
"Sir, behind you!" Ego suddenly warned.
Zack spun to see a blood-soaked figure stumbling towards him—the female streamer who had just been bitten. She was still in her pajamas, her skin now mottled and torn, her mouth twisted into a horrible snarl.
"Damn it! I forgot about you!" Zack cursed, tossing the nail gun aside and pulling out his baseball bat. The once-pristine bat was now embedded with nails, transformed into a crude but deadly mace.
The zombie lurched at him with a savage roar, and Zack swung the bat with all his strength.
BAM!
The bat connected with her head, and with a sickening pop, her skull caved in, splattering the wall behind her with blood and fragments. The zombie fell, twitching before going still.
"Sir, I suggest retrieving the car keys from this woman. Her vehicle is parked downstairs," Ego's advised.
Zack hesitated, glancing at the corpse with a grimace. He hadn't expected he'd need to dig through her pockets, but… it was a logical choice.
"Fine," he muttered, steeling himself as he rummaged through her jacket pocket, grimacing at the blood-slicked keys.
"Thank you, Ego," he said, though he felt a bit shaken. He couldn't afford to waste more time.
Rushing downstairs, he slipped past the horde of zombies crowded near the bait outside and reached the car.
"Sir, the car is on your left. It's pink," Ego directed.
A pink, sleek electric sedan waited in front of him. Zack quickly unlocked the door, slipping inside to find the interior faintly perfumed. He pressed the ignition, and the car hummed to life—silent as a whisper.
"Brilliant choice, Ego," Zack muttered in relief. An electric car meant it wouldn't attract the zombies with noise, unlike a fuel-powered car that would immediately turn him into a target.
"If it weren't for you, I would have made that mistake and might never have left here alive," he said sincerely, realizing just how invaluable Ego's assistance had been.
"Sir, your safety is my top priority," Ego replied, his tone unwavering.
Zack took advantage of the quiet hum of his electric car, slipping past several buildings unnoticed. Just as he was about to leave the complex, however, his luck ran out.
"Roar!"
The sound of a zombie echoed, followed by the shambling forms of the infected, alerted to his presence. Unlike the sluggish zombies from movies, those infected by the Zeta virus retained most of their physical abilities. They could run nearly as fast as normal people and had an unnatural, tireless endurance. For most survivors, getting caught without a vehicle meant certain death.
Luckily, Zack was prepared. "Good thing I followed your advice and take this car," he muttered, pressing down on the pedal.
The motor revved to life, and the car surged forward with a sound nearly as loud as a gas-powered engine. The vehicle shot out of the encroaching zombie swarm, narrowly escaping like an arrow from a bowstring.
"Turn left onto Greenwich Street ."
The calm voice of Ego, his AI companion, guided him. Ego began navigating to help Zack dodge the zombie-packed areas, marking clear routes through the city's chaotic streets. Finally, they reached a quieter, more remote road, and Zack allowed himself a moment to relax, though only slightly. The danger wasn't over yet; he'd merely escaped one trap and needed to plan his next move.
He couldn't drive aimlessly forever. He had to find somewhere safe and better armed. "Ego, can you access the security network and locate the nearest weapons depot?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the road.
His makeshift weapons from the apartment wouldn't cut it in the long run. Out here, he needed real firepower. In this world, other survivors could be just as dangerous as zombies, especially if they decided to turn on each other for supplies. He recalled an old saying, "If my neighbor's stocking up on food, I'll be stocking up on ammo – because their pantry just might become mine." Survival wasn't just about supplies; it was about securing them.
"No problem, sir," Ego replied, and within half a second, he'd marked several red dots on the navigation screen.
"Most of these weapon caches are empty, but one still has a stock," Ego reported.
Zack felt a spark of hope but frowned. "Only one left?" It made sense that others would've thought to grab weapons right after the outbreak, but an empty depot likely meant it wasn't safe.
"Is it dangerous inside?" he asked.
"Yes, sir," Ego replied. "The surveillance shows many zombies in the area, including some that appear more aggressive than usual."
Zack clenched his jaw. So, this cache wasn't an option. "What about something else?" he pressed.
After a quick search, Ego spoke. "There's a cash transport truck ten kilometers away. The guards have turned into zombies, but there are two shotguns and several rounds inside."
"Perfect! Can you lure the zombies away?"
Ego's voice was confident. "Yes, sir. I can hack the city's radio system to draw them to a different location."
Zack grinned. "Do it."
He sped along the route Ego recommended, a path not the shortest but the safest. He avoided clusters of zombies, occasionally accelerating past a few scattered infected without breaking pace. Before long, he reached the area near the truck.
Zack slowed down to assess the scene. The transport truck was parked on what had once been a busy pedestrian street, near an old school. A quick scan of the area revealed a staggering number of zombies. Hundreds of them milled around, stumbling over the deserted stretch.
"There have to be at least a hundred zombies here," he muttered.
Ego responded immediately. "There are precisely 167 zombies in the open, sir, not counting those inside nearby buildings."
Zack let out a low whistle. Without Ego's help, he'd be as good as zombie bait.
"Go ahead with the distraction," he said.