The city, once bustling with life, now teemed with the undead. Skyscrapers bore scars of explosions, their wounded frames a testament to the chaos that had unfolded.
A crow, perched atop a dead biter, pecked at its decaying flesh with gusto. Nipping at its neck, it savored its grotesque meal until a distant rumble disturbed the eerie silence.
A truck thundered into view, its roar shattering the city's stillness. Startled, the crow cawed and took flight, abandoning its feast.
As the truck approached, its military insignia came into focus, soldiers bracing themselves on board. Suddenly, one soldier banged on the side. “Let’s check here, boys,” he declared, leaping off.
The driver, Doro, emerged, masked and armed, his gaze fixed on the nearby grocery store. “You think there’s enough to feed all of us?” a soldier inquired.
“Considering the lack of people around, I’d say so,” Doro replied, a grin playing on his lips. Beside him sat Riot, his attention briefly caught by the rearview mirror before he disembarked, slamming the door shut.
“Riot, you're with me,” Doro commanded, eyeing another soldier, Frost. “Frost, you too.” Frost nodded, hefting his assault rifle as they prepared to enter.
“The others will secure the back in case things turn ugly,” Doro directed, gesturing to the remaining soldiers. “Storm, Hawk, Viper, move out.” The trio wasted no time, disappearing into the alley.
“Keep on channel 16,” Doro reminded, tapping his walkie-talkie. As they approached the door, Frost glanced at Riot. “Riot, you haven’t been the same since you came back. Are you okay?” he ventured.
Riot's response was curt. “Let's focus on the mission,” he deflected, avoiding Frost's gaze. “No time for chatting. Time for food,” Doro interjected, nudging them toward the entrance.
Riot stepped forward, about to knock, but Doro swung the door open, setting off the overhead bell. Inside, growls echoed as a dozen biters lurched into view. Doro readied his weapon, but Riot acted first, shoving Doro aside and seizing a biter by the hair, slamming it against a shelf with unbridled ferocity.
“Hey!” Doro's voice thundered, fury pulsing through him. Riot paid him no mind, pressing on as a biter lunged at him. With swift reflexes, Riot seized the biter's shirt, wrenching it to the side.
Knee strikes rained down on the biter's head, each blow accompanied by a sickening crack until the growls subsided. Riot dropped the limp body, only to face two more lunging at him. Unfazed, he grappled with them, his movements swift and precise.
With a powerful yank, Riot tore off one biter's arm, using its own bone to pierce its eye socket. As the second biter closed in, Riot's head met its own, sending it reeling backward into the fray.
Frost attempted to intervene, but Doro blocked his path, shaking his head solemnly. Frost's protests fell on deaf ears as he resigned himself with a heavy sigh. “Don’t you dare die!” he shouted after Riot.
With a snicker, Riot countered the biter's grasp, leveraging his elbow to shatter its limb. Then, wielding a rolling pin like a weapon, he crushed the biter's jaw, silencing its guttural cries with a final, gruesome act.
As the last few biters closed in, Riot's relentless assault continued, culminating in a crescendo of violence. Brain matter splattered with each stomp, each slam, until finally, the backdoor creaked open.
“The back is clear!” Viper's voice pierced the chaos, drawing the attention of the remaining biters. Seizing the opportunity, Riot surged forward, crushing their heads together with brute force.
With a final thud, the bodies crumpled to the ground, the air thick with the stench of death. Riot turned to Doro, his expression unreadable. “It’s clear,” he declared.
Doro's glare bore into Riot, but Frost rushed over to check on him. “No bites?” he inquired, his touch gentle. “The undead won’t be the ones who end me,” Riot assured him, offering a subtle pat on the shoulder before turning his attention to the task at hand, looting the shelves.
Back in the forested town, Cody leaned against the windowsill, the moon casting eerie shadows on the deserted streets below. “No biters yet,” he remarked, glancing over at Lucifer. She grinned and nodded. “Let’s see if we stumble upon any treasures in this place,” she suggested, giving Cody a playful pat on the back as they exited what appeared to be a bedroom, its disarray evident from the toppled bed and blood-stained walls.
With his flashlight in hand, Cody detected the sound of snoring emanating from downstairs. “Guts is out like a light,” he observed with a smirk. “Surprised a biter hasn’t mistaken his snores for a midnight snack.” Lucifer chuckled in agreement.
“I bet Mars will give him a wake-up call soon,” Cody predicted, and as if on cue, a resounding slap echoed through the house, followed by Guts's disgruntled protests. “You cheeky bastard,” Guts groaned.
Mars lowered his hand, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I’ll perform a tonsillectomy myself if I have to, Snore Boy,” he threatened playfully. Guts retorted with a yawn before promptly drifting back into slumber.
“Did he really conk out mid-conversation?” Mars marveled, glancing at Guts in amusement.
“Well, it’s our first decent night’s sleep in ages,” Lucifer pointed out. “You two should catch some shut-eye soon. I’ll keep watch and wake you up, Luci.” Mars offered a reassuring smile.
“We will, just gonna snoop around for a bit,” Cody assured her, and with a stretch, Lucifer headed toward what appeared to be an office, its glass-paneled door beckoning.
Pushing open the door, Cody scanned the room, his eyes falling on an old radio resting on a desk. “Think this relic still works?” he pondered aloud, gesturing to Lucifer. “Only one way to find out,” she replied, gesturing for him to give it a try.
Cody examined the radio, noting its lack of batteries but intact antenna. With a flick of the switch, static crackled to life. “Looks like this ancient thing still has some fight left in it,” Lucifer remarked with a grin.
Cody adjusted the dials, tuning in to different frequencies until he paused, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. Pressing the transmission button, he spoke tentatively into the mic, “Hello? Anyone else out there?”
Meanwhile, back in the city, the military truck trundled along, its lights piercing the darkness as it made its way back to base. Suddenly, it lurched to a stop, the gas meter registering empty. Frost glanced toward the rear, concern etched on his face. “Trouble?” he inquired.
Doro checked the meter and sighed, “Out of fuel,” he confirmed. “Everyone, fan out and scavenge for gas,” he instructed, stepping out with rifle in hand and flashlight ablaze.
Surveying the surroundings, Doro grinned. “Time to see if these vehicles have any juice left,” he declared. “Riot, check the other side.”
As Riot began his search, a voice crackled through his walkie-talkie, causing a collective pause among the group. “Hello? Anyone else alive?” the voice called out.
Doro's eyes widened as he seized his own walkie-talkie, a snicker growing on his face, responding promptly, “Yes, we're still kicking.”
