Chapter 22 Trapped in the Dead Zone


    110 Free Chine


    They patched up the tire, strapped the hostage to the truck’s roof, and piled inside. Ahead, Theresa had blocked the road with a mess of vehicles. Without hesitation, they floored it. The truck crashed through with a deafening boom.


    It felt too easy. There was no resistance, no shots fired.


    For a moment, they almost let themselves believe they’d gotten away with it.


    Then–thank!


    An arrow whizzed past and embedded itself in the truck’s door. The tip was coated in fresh chicken blood. dripping down the side. Worse, it had pierced the frame, locking the door shut.


    Everyone inside froze.


    Before they could react, more arrows struck.


    Bang!


    The tires blew out, and the truck spun violently before grinding to a halt.


    Blood now covered the entire vehicle, and a thick metallic stench hung in the air. The zombies didn’t take long to catch on. They started closing in from every direction.


    Inside the truck, panic erupted.


    “We’re trapped!”


    “She set us up! That girl sold us out!”


    “Can we get out?!”


    “The d*mn doors won’t open!”


    Realizing the danger, Tigre didn’t wait. He rolled down the window and squeezed out, yet not before grabbing a hostage to use as a shield.


    Once outside, a half–rotted zombie lunged at him from the ground, snagging his leg. Tigre shoved the hostage forward, used her as a distraction, and dodged the attack just in time.


    Then, whoosh!


    Another arrow zipped through the air, aimed at his back. Tigre barely ducked in time. His instincts kicked in–he couldn’t let go of the hostage now. She was his only cover.


    Dragging her along, he sprinted/down a narrow path and weaved through the trees. After running for what felt like forever, he finally spotted a hidden bunker.


    The ce looked like a fortress, with tall wire fences, security cameras, and a thick iron gate. Inside was a small farm with rows of vegetables, clucking chickens, and even a few ducks waddling around.


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    14 38 Wed, 6 <b>Aug </b>


    Chapter 22 Trapped in the Dead Zone


    Tigre was elupined.


    419 Free ging


    7 know it? Someone bought this ce, fortified it, and got everything ready for the apocalypse<i>. </i>This isn’t just some lucky coincidence. But… did they actually <i>know </i>the zombie outbreak wasing<i>? </i>That doesn’t even make sense…


    His thoughts were cut short when the hostage suddenly bit down on his hand.


    Theresa watched through her scope from a distance, trying not tough. She had noticed earlier that the zombie had bitten the woman, which was all part of her n.


    She let Tigre run straight to her bunker, knowing full well what would happen next.


    Now, she watched the woman transform, turning on him and sinking her teeth into his arm.


    Karma. She smirked as she watched Tigre’s crew through the scope, ready to fire an arrow at anyone who dared try to escape, helping the zombies in their hunt.


    Theresa wasn’t here to y hero. In this world, she believed in one thing–payback. Cross her, and they’d regret it–tenfold.


    Perched high in her watchtower, she surveyed the chaos below. Most intruders had already been wiped out, but one guy had managed to stay alive–the broker.


    He was still inside the truck, huddled in fear while the others had been torn apart.


    Theresa spotted him through her scope. She calmly loaded another arrow, took aim, and fired.


    <i>Crack</i><i>! </i>


    The arrow shattered the truck’s windshield.


    The sound drew every nearby zombie, including the now–turned Tigre. Blood–crazed, they swarmed the vehicle, wing and pounding against the ss!


    Inside, the broker panicked. He could barely breathe as the undead pressed against the truck, desperate to get in.


    Regret hit him like a truck. <i>Why </i><i>did </i><i>I </i><i>ever </i><i>bring </i><i>them </i><i>here</i><i>? </i>


    He’d always been the weakest in the group, clinging to them for survival by providing whatever resources they needed.


    Yet now, he thought back to the bunker he’d rented out a month ago.


    It had been a joke at the time–a young girl had taken it, rambling about growing mushrooms in the middle of nowhere. He’dughed at her naivety.


    He had even imagined that when they reached the bunker, it would be filled with a thriving crop of mushrooms–and that naive young girl waiting there.


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