Zombie survivor

[93] Surprise around the corner

The faint clatter of a can rolling on the tiled floor echoed again through the darkened aisles of the superstore. The five froze, their flashlights sweeping across the shadowy wreckage as they formed an outward-facing circle. Tension gripped the air, every creak and rustle amplified in the oppressive silence.

Jean's heart pounded in his chest as he gripped his pistol tighter. "Alright, what the hell is out there?"

"Probably some raccoon or something," Chloe muttered, though her grip on her shotgun betrayed her nerves. "Or, you know, something worse."

"Definitely worse," Evan whispered, his voice trembling as he scanned the darkness. "I hate this."

"Stay calm," Blake said, trying to sound authoritative. "Whatever it is, we'll handle it."

Akira, her twin knives glinting in the dim light, moved closer to Jean, her eyes darting between the shadows. "If it's dangerous, we deal with it. Together."

"Guys," Chloe hissed, her voice sharp. "Shut up. Over there!"

Her flashlight beam caught a flicker of movement—a shadow darting between the shelves at the far end of the aisle. It was fast, too fast to be a zombie, and definitely too big to be a raccoon.

"There it is!" Jean barked. "Go!"

The group moved quickly but cautiously, their boots crunching on broken glass and debris as they pursued the figure. Flashlights bounced wildly, illuminating glimpses of the shadow as it darted out of sight and into another aisle.

"Damn, it's quick," Chloe muttered, pumping her shotgun.

"It's leading us somewhere," Blake said, his tone uneasy. "This feels like a trap."

"Then we spring it before it springs us," Jean replied, his jaw tight. "Keep moving."

The chase continued, the group weaving through the aisles until the shadow led them out of the store and into the open street. The early morning light cast long shadows across the crumbling pavement as they followed the figure into a nearby building—a two-story structure that looked as if it had been a small office complex.

"Are we seriously chasing this thing in there?" Evan asked, panting as he lagged behind.

"Unless you wanna wait out here by yourself," Chloe shot back, already stepping through the shattered doorframe.

Evan groaned but followed, his revolver clutched tightly in his hands. The building's interior was just as decrepit as the rest of East Kelowna. The air was stale, and the faint smell of mildew mixed with something metallic lingered in the dim hallway. The sound of their footsteps reverberated off the walls as they climbed a narrow staircase, the creaks under their weight sounding ominous.

The noise came again—this time a shuffle, followed by a faint scraping sound. It was coming from behind a door at the end of the hall.

Jean held up a hand, signaling for the group to stop. "Alright," he whispered, his voice low. "Whatever's in there, we're about to find out. Stay sharp."

The group nodded, their weapons raised. Akira positioned herself near Jean, her knives at the ready. Chloe stood to the side of the door, her shotgun aimed at the handle. Blake and Evan took positions behind them, their flashlights fixed on the doorway.

Jean counted down with his fingers: three... two... one.

Chloe kicked the door open with a loud crash, and the group surged into the room, weapons drawn. But instead of finding the shadowy figure they'd been chasing, they were met with something far more immediate—and far more dangerous.

A man with a crowbar stood in the center of the room, his makeshift weapon leveled at them. Behind him, several other people—men and women of varying ages—raised their own weapons, which ranged from rusty machetes to bats wrapped in barbed wire. The group froze, startled by the sudden intrusion.

"Hold it!" the man barked, his voice harsh. "Drop your shit, or you're dead!"

Before Jean or the others could react, the doors to the adjacent rooms burst open, and more people poured into the hallway behind them. Within seconds, they were surrounded. There had to be at least twenty of them, each armed and glaring with suspicion—or outright hostility.

"Shit," Chloe muttered under her breath, her shotgun still raised. "This is bad."

"No kidding," Evan whispered, his voice shaking.

The man with the crowbar stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he sized up the group. "You've got five seconds to drop your weapons," he growled. "Don't make me repeat myself."

Jean's heart raced as he assessed the situation. They were outnumbered four to one, and while their firearms gave them an edge, there was no way they'd get out of this unscathed if a fight broke out.

"Hold on," Jean said, lowering his pistol slightly but keeping it in his grip. "We're not here to fight. We thought this place was abandoned."

"Well, it's not," the man snapped. "And you've got a lot of fucking nerve barging in here like you own the place."

"We're just scavengers," Blake interjected, his hands raised in a placating gesture. "We didn't know anyone was here. We're not looking for trouble."

"Trouble's all you're gonna find if you don't drop your guns," one of the other men growled, stepping forward with a rusty knife in hand.

"Fine," Jean said reluctantly, glancing at his team. "Put them down. Slowly."

"What?" Chloe hissed, her grip tightening on her shotgun. "You can't be serious."

"We don't have a choice," Jean said through gritted teeth. "Do it."

One by one, the group placed their weapons on the ground, their movements slow and deliberate. Chloe glared at Jean but followed suit, her shotgun landing on the floor with a heavy thud. Akira hesitated, her fingers clenching around her knives, but Jean gave her a sharp look, and she reluctantly complied.

Evan fumbled with his revolver, his hands shaking as he set it down. Blake was the last to disarm, his pistol clattering onto the floor as he raised his hands.

"Smart move," the man with the crowbar said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Now, you're gonna tell us what you're doing here."

"Like we said," Jean replied, his voice steady despite the fear knotting in his stomach. "We're scavengers. We're looking for supplies—food, medicine, anything we can find."

"Bullshit," a woman from the group spat. "You're spies for another crew, aren't you? Here to scope us out."

"No, we're not," Blake said quickly, his voice calm but firm. "We don't even know who you are."

"That's the problem," the man with the crowbar said, his smirk fading. "You don't know who you're fucking with. And now we've got a decision to make."

The group tightened their circle around the teens, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife. One of the men stepped forward and grabbed Jean by the arm, pulling him roughly toward the hallway.

"Let's see how much they know," he said, dragging Jean along as the others barked orders for the teens to move.

"Hey!" Akira shouted, stepping forward before two men shoved her back. "Don't touch him!"

"Do what they say," Jean called over his shoulder, his voice firm. "Stay calm."

As they were herded out of the room and into the hallway, Jean's mind raced. They were outnumbered, outarmed, and completely at the mercy of this hostile group. But one thing was clear: they needed a way out. And fast.

Q: What would you do in this situation?