Zompipocalips ~ a crack fic

Chapter 7: Reluctance to Fight

"WHAT," they exclaimed in unison, their disbelief echoing.

Adam had his fingers playing casually with the hilt of one of his weapons, unfazed by their shock. He reached back and tugged at the door handles, dragging the still-protesting Niko and Carlos onto the uneven ground.

"Consider this your first real test," Adam announced, his tone brisk.

Niko's heart raced as he glanced around at the derelict scene, his eyes wide. "But what about Salem?"

"Salem's been barred from fighting, as per Ruth's orders," Adam huffed out, his expression betraying a hint of annoyance. Salem turns her head away as he says that.

Carlos's lips moved in silent prayer, a whisper for forgiveness under his breath, the words a constant murmur against his surroundings. The weight of the situation pressed upon him, and his eyes flitted nervously between Adam and the world beyond.

Adam patted Carlos on the back, though the gesture lacked its usual warmth. "Keep your spirits up, padre. This is the reality of survival."

Carlos swallowed hard, his gaze locked on the abandoned landscape that stretched before them. The unease in his eyes only deepened.

"We have no other choice."

Adam's tone was laced with grave seriousness as he swiftly withdrew his dual sickle blades. The glint of metal caught the dim light filtering through the overcast sky. His fingers closed around the handles, the cold touch of steel sending a shiver down his spine.

His gaze shifted to the hood of the vehicle, his brows furrowing assessing the situation in his head. "It won't even be a few seconds while I open the hood before those things come to kill us." The determination in his eyes mirrored with the confident set of his jaw.

With a fluid motion, he adjusted his grip on the sickle blades. His muscles tensed, his stance shifting to a defensive posture. The weapons gleamed in his hands.

Adam's focus narrowed, his senses attuned to the impending danger. The rustling of leaves and the distant, eerie groans of the approaching horde reached his ears. His breaths came in measured rhythm, matching the rhythm of his heartbeat.

He cracked his neck side to side with a slight smirk on his lips. Carlos stared in anxious fear as his grip on the weapon faltered and heavy. Niko turns his head around to see if he can find any makeshift weapons he can use.

The creatures draw nearer, their sprint halting just before them. Adam adjusts his grip on his blades, poised for the perfect moment to strike.

"Chameleon zombies..." Salem mutters, ducking gradually into the car seat and biting at her nails.

Puzzled by this, Niko turned to look at her car window, seeing her shrinking further and further out of view. "I'm sorry cha—what?"

"C-chameleon zombies." She gulps, explaining in a hushed tone, "These zombies can change the color and texture of their skin to blend into their environment, making them difficult to spot until they move."

"Zomeleon zombies then?" Niko replied, masking a laugh, his hand nervously scratching his neck. He looked at the enemy ahead of them. Salem stared at him, her furrowed brow, and the absence of a smile made it clear that the joke sailed right past her. Niko spoke again, "Look, it's like a chameleon, but with... zombies, instead... get it?"

Niko's pupils traced the sick freak of nature. Dark and charred flesh, its skin coarse and rough like the scales of a reptile, it crept closer. With a hard gait in each tentative step. The hands and feet, twisted and deformed beyond comprehension of its past humanity turned into razor-sharp claws. Its mouth stretched unnaturally and filled with sharp, curved fangs, the jaw bulkier than it should be, ticking to one side with every motion. One in the pack stared at him. The eyes, a dull yellow color seem to bore within his soul.