Leo stepped out from behind the rusted car, each step deliberate, his gaze fixed on the towering supermarket. The air was filled with a faint, metallic stench of decay lingered in the breeze.
He took two steps forward, and almost instantly, hundreds of lifeless eyes snapped toward him.
The silence shattered as a cacophony of guttural growls filled the air. The zombies, a grotesque combination of twisted limbs and rotting flesh, lurched toward him in erratic, jerky movements.
Their hunger was palpable, their collective groans rising like a macabre symphony of death.
Leo didn't hesitate. His grip on Nightshade tightened, and he sprinted toward the shadow of a building nearby, his boots crunching against the wet asphalt.
"Come on," he muttered, glancing over his shoulder at the horde closing in.
