Zombie survivor

[60] The last stand

The warehouse echoed with the screeches and snarls of the approaching horde, the sound growing louder by the second. The group huddled near the stacks of fuel cans, their faces pale but determined. Morgan stood at the center, her sharp blue eyes scanning each person in the dim light as the weight of the moment pressed down on them.

"Here's how this works," she barked, her voice cutting through the noise. "Six of you form a chain. Pass the fuel cans down to the generator. The last person pours it in. The other six cover the chain. Keep the zombies off us. No breaks, no fuck-ups."

Jean nodded, his hands gripping the rusted assault rifle he'd taken from the RV. "Got it."

Morgan pointed to the group. "Chloe, Brittney, Heather, Evan, Luca, Trev—you're the chain. Move the cans. Everyone else, with me on defense."

Chloe looked ready to argue but stopped short when Morgan's cold gaze locked onto her. "Fine," she muttered, grabbing a fuel can. "But if one of them so much as sneezes on me, I'm out."

Brittney rolled her eyes. "Priorities, Chloe."

Ms. Heather clumsily hefted a can, nearly dropping it before hugging it to her chest. "Oh dear, these are heavier than they look! But don't worry, I'll keep up!" She flashed a nervous smile that did little to reassure anyone.

"Don't drop it," Morgan warned sharply. "Every second counts."

The group quickly fell into formation, Chloe and Brittney at the front of the chain near the fuel stack, passing the cans to Heather, who handed them off to Trev, then Luca, and finally Evan, who crouched near the generator, ready to pour.

Morgan motioned to the defenders—Jean, Akira, Jordan, Tyler, Blake, and herself—and led them toward the warehouse's open door. The first few zombies were already in sight, shambling toward the entrance with jerking, unnatural movements.

"Hold the line!" Morgan shouted, raising her pistol. She fired a shot, the bullet tearing through the closest zombie's skull. "Aim for the head. Make every shot count."

Jean knelt near a stack of crates, his assault rifle tucked against his shoulder. "Here they come!" he yelled, squeezing the trigger. The burst of bullets dropped two zombies instantly, but more kept coming, their decayed forms stumbling over the fallen.

Akira stood beside him, wielding her sharp metal pipe like a spear. She jabbed at a zombie that got too close, the pipe sinking into its eye socket with a wet crunch. "Keep firing," she said calmly. "We can't let them reach the chain."

Jordan fired his shotgun, the blast echoing through the warehouse as he took down a cluster of zombies. "Yo, these things just don't quit! It's like playing on hard mode!"

"Less talk, more shooting!" Tyler snapped, reloading his pistol as he fired at another advancing zombie. "We're not streaming this shit, Jordan!"

In the chain, Chloe and Brittney passed the fuel cans as quickly as they could, their faces etched with concentration. "Hurry up!" Chloe hissed, shoving a can into Heather's arms. "They're getting closer!"

"I'm trying!" Heather squeaked, fumbling with the can before handing it off to Trev. "Oh gosh, these are so slippery!"

Trev grimaced, wiping his sweaty hands on his shirt before tossing the can to Luca. "Could we not spill fuel everywhere? Just saying."

Evan crouched by the generator, unscrewing the cap on the fuel tank and pouring the contents of the cans with shaking hands. "We're halfway there!" he shouted over his shoulder. "Keep 'em coming!"

The defenders held their ground, but the waves of zombies were relentless. Jean's rifle clicked empty, and he cursed, tossing it aside and grabbing a metal pipe from the ground. "Out of ammo! Switching to melee!"