Zombie survivor

[73] All hell breaks loose

The tension in the air thickened as Morgan led the group to the back corner of the pharmacy. There it was—the medical supplies section. The shelves, though half-empty, still held some hope. Morgan's eyes quickly scanned the labels on the remaining bottles, her movements sharp, trained from years of fieldwork.

"Over here," Morgan called out, her voice steady but urgent. "This is what we need."

The group crowded around as she pried open a cabinet. Inside, there were still some antiseptics, bandages, a few sealed syringes, and most importantly, a small stash of antibiotics. Morgan grabbed a handful, stuffing them into her pack.

"Got what we need for now," she said, breathing out a sigh of relief. "Let's get the hell out of here."

But as she turned to leave, the faint scent of smoke wafted through the air.

"Shit," Evan said, his eyes flicking to the makeshift torch in his hand, which was burning low, the flames flickering dangerously close to the floor.

Before anyone could react, the sound of a shrill alarm pierced the silence.

BEEEEEP—BEEEEEP—BEEEEEEP!

The fire alarm was blaring at full volume, its shriek echoing through the empty store. Everyone froze, a cold rush of panic flooding their veins. For a moment, no one could move, their bodies locked in terror, eyes wide with disbelief.

"That's not good," Jordan hissed, his eyes darting nervously around. "That's—shit! That's not good!"

"Get the torch!" Morgan barked, her voice sharp and commanding as she grabbed her pack. "Put it out! NOW!"

But it was too late. The fire alarm's scream was relentless, and in the distance, from beyond the broken glass of the store's entrance, came the unmistakable sound of the horde. Faint at first, but growing louder, their guttural growls and shuffling feet reverberating through the streets.

"Fuck," Tyler muttered, his voice shaking. "That's the last thing we needed. They'll be here in minutes."

"We need to move," Morgan said, pulling her pack tighter. "Now."

Without a second thought, she sprinted to the door, but before anyone could follow, a deafening roar came from outside, and the ground seemed to tremble. They weren't just close; they were right outside.

"I'll carry her," Trev said, already bending down and lifting Ms. Heather into his arms. "I'm not leaving her here."

Morgan didn't hesitate. "Good. Stay close, and keep moving."

Everyone was scrambling now, their instincts taking over. The moment they heard the first guttural growl from outside, panic spread like wildfire.

Evan glanced back at the door, his heart racing. "This is not how I wanted to die," he muttered, his voice wavering as he took a deep breath and followed the others.

Jean and Akira were already ahead, their eyes wide with terror as they sprinted down the aisle toward the back exit. Akira was silent, her face twisted in focus, but Jean's panic was obvious. "We're gonna die. We're gonna fucking die!"

Blake grabbed his arm. "Shut the fuck up, Jean, and keep moving!"

They all ran through the aisles, their footsteps pounding in unison with the sound of the horde's approach. As they neared the back door, Blake swung it open, and cold air rushed in, mixing with the heat of their breath. The sound of the undead was louder now, the screeches and growls impossible to ignore. It was too late to hide.

"We go now!" Morgan shouted, already heading toward the alleyway behind the store. The others followed, pushing past each other in a frantic sprint.

Blake, still carrying Ms. Heather's weight, wasn't as fast as the rest. Trev, holding her in his arms, was a little slower too, but his focus was unwavering. He glanced at Ms. Heather, her face pale and drenched in sweat, her leg dragging limply behind her. She winced with each step, but she didn't scream. She couldn't afford to.

"We need to keep going!" Tyler yelled, glancing over his shoulder at the increasing volume of growls. "They're getting closer!"

Evan was running hard, but he was slowing down, his panic evident. "What the fuck is that sound?" he shouted. "What is that? Are they—are they right behind us?"

The first of the zombies shuffled into view from the corner of the alley. Their decaying faces twisted with hunger, their arms outstretched like ragdolls, driven by instinct and not thought.

"GO!" Morgan shouted.

There was no more time for anything else. They were already in full sprint, their legs burning, adrenaline pushing them past the limits. The sound of their footsteps was drowned out by the low, guttural moans that echoed behind them.

"Move!" Blake hissed, his muscles straining as he carried Ms. Heather, sweat dripping from his forehead. "Fucking move! Faster!"

Behind them, the horde had finally reached the street, a mass of shambling bodies spilling into the open. The first one of the undead lunged at them, missing by inches as Jean kicked it out of the way.

"Fuck!" Jordan screamed, as he turned to face the horde. "I don't wanna die today!"

Chloe, surprisingly, wasn't freaking out. She was running like hell, but there was no panic in her eyes. Just determination. She was going to survive this, and everyone else could suck it.

"Are you guys coming or what?" she yelled, glancing back with a grin that didn't quite match the panic around her.

"Fucking hurry!" Trev snapped, carrying Ms. Heather through the alley as the undead picked up speed. They were faster than they'd ever been, closing the distance with terrifying speed.

The sound of their rotting feet hitting the concrete grew louder, and the group was dangerously close to being surrounded. The alley was narrow, and the horde was fast. Too fast.

"Left!" Morgan ordered, pushing them down another alley, hoping for a way out.

They all turned, their feet pounding in unison, their bodies barely keeping up. And just as it seemed like they were going to make it, an eerie, guttural growl echoed from the mouth of the alley.

Jean's heart stopped.

There were more.

The dead had cut them off.

"Shit, we're surrounded!" Jean screamed, panic rising in his chest.

"We keep moving! Don't stop!" Morgan shouted, her eyes hard and focused. "Move!"

But the horde was closing in, their moans growing louder as the dead shuffled toward them, slow but relentless.

"Fuck!" Tyler cried, his breath ragged as he whipped around to face the advancing zombies. "This is the end, man! This is the fucking end!"

Morgan didn't hesitate. She grabbed a broken pipe from the ground and handed it to Blake. "Cover us."

The sound of the group's breath, harsh and ragged, filled the air as they pushed forward. Their legs burned, their hearts thumping in their chests like drumbeats of impending doom. The last thing they saw as the world turned into a blur was the horde closing in behind them.

And then, there was nothing but running.

Q: Are you good at long distance runs?