The zombie horde had grown into a massive, unstoppable wave, like a tsunami swallowing everything in its path. Zack estimated there were easily over five million zombies in the swarm. Worse, they were now just a mountain away from him.
"Riverdale…" he muttered, recognizing the mountain range on the map. He had once considered the mansion district here as a potential refuge but dismissed the idea because of its proximity to a zoo. Now, staring at the satellite image, a crucial question weighed on his mind.
"Ego, do you think this zombie horde will go around the hill?" he asked, scrutinizing the black mass on his screen. If the swarm took a detour, it might buy him an extra day to prepare. If not… they'd be on top of him by tomorrow afternoon.
"The odds are low, sir," replied Ego, his AI assistant. "A horde this size isn't likely to divert for something as small as that hill."
Zack nodded, unsurprised. "Alright, Ego. Simulate their path. Show me exactly where they'll pass through."
The satellite view shifted into a flat map. A deep red line traced the projected route of the zombies. The simulation showed the horde cutting straight through the center of NYC, putting the steel mill and the fortified mansions directly in its path. Only the prison lay just outside the danger zone—but that wasn't much comfort.
As he studied the map, Zack's eyes caught something unusual. Zooming in, he saw an unfinished construction site that had been turned into a survivor base. The site had reinforced walls and sentry towers spaced out evenly, each manned by guards.
"A construction site, huh? Not bad," Zack muttered to himself. It was secluded, away from the main city, and stocked with steel, construction materials, and heavy machinery like excavators. It was a solid choice for a base, far better than the prison. But the site was directly in the horde's path. The survivors there would be the first to face the zombies—and they wouldn't be the last.
"Sir, I've identified the leader of that base," Ego announced suddenly.
"Oh? Who is it?" Zack asked, curious. Whoever chose that location clearly knew what they were doing.
"It's Ms. Sarah, the red-haired woman you encountered before."
Zack raised an eyebrow. The name didn't immediately click, but the mention of her red hair brought back memories. "That woman has the worst luck," he sighed. "First, she barely escapes by the skin of her teeth, and now she's the first in line for this zombie wave. I honestly don't know how she's still alive."
Pushing thoughts of Sarah aside, Zack refocused on his own preparations. If he couldn't figure out how to stop this horde, he'd have no choice but to abandon the steel mill and the mansion, moving everyone to the prison. Maybe—just maybe—if they were lucky, the wave would pass through NYC quickly, leaving them a chance to return. But Zack had never been one to rely on luck.
"A zombie wave? Fine. Let's deal with it head-on," he said with determination, glancing at the mechanical beast beside him. He clenched his fists and got to work.
Zack spent the night at the steel mill, arming Charles and his team with light weapons. Then he hauled all the alloy steel and other refined materials back to the mansion. He instructed Ego to manufacture two more mechanical dogs and six additional spiders, working non-stop until dawn. By morning, his forces had grown to nine mechanical dogs and twenty spiders.
Meanwhile, Annie had made progress on her own project—a massive spider robot she named Tarantula. Unlike the smaller spider units, Tarantula was over three meters tall, towering even above the MV-01 armor. It wasn't just an exoskeleton—it was a full-fledged giant mech. Tarantula had two combat modes: an unmanned mode, where it operated independently using advanced AI Zack had programmed, and a pilot mode, complete with a neural-control cockpit that allowed the user to sync seamlessly with the machine.
Annie had equipped Tarantula with arm blades and a web shooter salvaged from Zack's discarded prototypes. But Zack wasn't satisfied. "It needs heavier firepower," he said bluntly as he inspected the mech.
"Seriously?" Annie groaned.
"We're facing a zombie wave, not a skirmish. Add heavy guns—machine guns, missile launchers, grenade launchers—whatever you can fit. Tarantula needs to be a walking fortress!"
Grumbling, Annie took Tarantula back to the lab for upgrades. As she left, Sophia came downstairs with a freshly brewed cup of coffee. She handed it to Zack, who had been working tirelessly through the night.
"Thanks," Zack murmured, taking a sip. He didn't feel physically tired, but the constant pressure weighed on him.
Sophia noticed his tension and sat beside him, placing her hands gently on his temples to massage them. "Zack, you need real rest," she said softly, her voice tinged with worry.
"I will," Zack replied, leaning into her touch. "But not yet. Not until we get through this."
Before Sophia could argue, Ego's voice interrupted. "Sir, the horde has crossed the hill. They're heading straight for Sarah and her group."
Zack's eyes widened. "Already?" He had assumed they'd have more time.
"What's wrong?" Sophia asked, alarmed by his reaction.
"The horde is on the move," Zack said grimly, setting down his coffee and heading straight to the MV-02W. With the help of mechanical arms, he began suiting up in his bulky, imposing armor, radiating a battle-ready aura.
Sophia watched him, clutching the coffee cup he had left behind. Her eyes were filled with concern, fear, and something she couldn't quite name.
Meanwhile, at the southern edge of NYC, Erza—a fiery red-haired woman—was receiving the same grim news.
"A zombie wave? Are you kidding me?" she snapped, flipping the sky an angry middle finger. The swarm's size was staggering, and her frustration boiled over.
"Erza, what do we do?" someone from the crowd asked, their voice trembling.
The survivors around her—men, women, children, and even an infant—looked at her with desperate hope. Erza scowled.
"What do you mean, 'What do we do?'" she shot back. "We run! You think we can take on millions of zombies? Are you nuts?"