Robbie burst out of the store, immediately rolling to the ground and firing off several shots in quick succession. Bullets whizzed past where he had just been, sparking off the pavement. One of Robbie’s shots hit the back door of the truck, while the other two grazed the side. The last of Brook’s men, a white guy in his mid-twenties armed with an AK-47, had been alert. The moment Robbie emerged, the man fired a few rounds before ducking behind the truck for cover. Robbie’s shots missed their mark.

  To the south, zombies were already spilling into the intersection. They weren’t numerous yet, but their guttural growls and flailing arms signaled the advance of the horde. They were about 200 meters away—likely the vanguard of the massive zombie swarm. Zombies moved at varying speeds depending on their physical condition before death, so some were faster than others. As this small wave of zombies entered the street, more poured in behind them.

  The man hiding behind the truck was positioned at an angle that made it impossible for Robbie to get a clean shot. Every so often, the man would poke his gun out and fire, forcing Robbie to scramble for cover. The street offered little protection, and Robbie was running out of options.

  Within seconds, the man had moved to the left side of the truck, while Robbie was on the right. The truck’s tires and body provided perfect cover for the man, and Robbie knew that trying to flank him would be suicidal. The man’s bullets wouldn’t miss.

  “Damn it!” Robbie muttered, quickly ejecting the magazine from his pistol to check the ammo. It was empty, with only one bullet left in the chamber. The gun was a SIG P210, which only held seven rounds. Time was running out. The zombies were closing in, and Robbie couldn’t afford to play a game of cat and mouse.

  Robbie made his move. He sprinted forward, twisting his body 180 degrees as he neared the truck’s cargo bed. He dropped to the ground, sliding under the truck on his back. As soon as his upper body cleared the other side, he fired at the man crouching behind the tire.

  *Bang!*

  The bullet entered the back of the man’s skull and exited through his forehead. A clean kill.

  “Move, move! Zombies are coming! Get out now!” Robbie shouted, springing to his feet with a quick kip-up.

  Inside the store, Vincent had cut the ropes binding the older man and his daughter. With them freed, there were now eight people huddled in the back of the store, crouching to avoid stray bullets. Manuela had handed the shotgun to Vincent, who kept it trained on the staircase. At Robbie’s shout, everyone scrambled to their feet and rushed outside.

  The zombies were getting closer. The southern intersection was now filled with them, and the leading edge was less than 150 meters from the truck.

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  “Everyone, get in the truck’s cargo bed! Now!” Vincent yelled, running toward the SUV. Robbie was already inside, hot-wiring the vehicle. Without keys, it was a tricky task, but Robbie was skilled at “borrowing” cars. Within five seconds, the SUV roared to life. Robbie revved the engine and glanced back at the truck through the rear window.

  Laura and Old Mike were in the truck’s cab, with Mike fumbling to start the engine. He wasn’t as quick as Robbie, likely due to nerves. The engine sputtered once but died again.

  The others quickly climbed into the truck’s cargo bed, and Jason slammed the door shut.

  *Bang! Bang! Bang!*

  Suddenly, gunfire erupted. Bullets struck the SUV, punching holes in the body. Vincent and Robbie ducked instinctively, then looked toward the store. Brook had come downstairs, firing at them. His men followed, but Brook quickly stopped them, shouting in frustration, “Damn it, it’s zombies! How are there so many here?”

  Brook and his men retreated upstairs, abandoning their pursuit of Vincent’s group as the zombie horde closed in.

  By now, the zombies from the south were less than 120 meters from the truck. To the right, another wave of zombies poured into the street, their growls merging into a terrifying chorus.

  “God, they’re coming from both sides!” Vincent exclaimed, looking at the advancing horde. The zombies in front were about 200 meters away, while those behind the truck were closing in fast.

  The truck still hadn’t started. Old Mike was too panicked, and the engine kept stalling.

  “Damn it!” Vincent slammed his hand against the car door in frustration. He realized that the gunfire had likely drawn multiple waves of zombies, trapping them on both ends of the street. He jumped out of the SUV and ran toward a nearby alley. Peering down it, he saw more zombies flooding in from both directions.

  The street was surrounded. In less than 30 seconds, the horde would engulf everything. Vincent knew that trying to drive through the zombies would be suicide. The vehicles would get stuck, and the people inside would be doomed.

  “Get out of the truck! We’re going upstairs! Now!” Vincent shouted, running back to the truck. He had no radio, so he had to yell to be heard. “Jason, open the door! Everyone, get down! We’re out of time!”

  “Grab the guns and ammo! Don’t forget the emergency bags!” Vincent added, remembering the backpacks they had prepared earlier. Each person had a small pack with essentials like food, water, and medicine—just enough to survive if they had to abandon the vehicles.

  With only 20 seconds left before the zombies reached the truck, everyone jumped down from the cargo bed. Jason carried a large duffel bag filled with guns and ammo, while the others shouldered their emergency packs.

  “Quick, into the store!” Vincent yelled, leading the group back to the shop they had just left. It was the only building on the street with intact windows and an open door. They rushed inside, pulling the rolling shutter down behind them.

  Inside the dimly lit store, Vincent, Robbie, and the older man pushed a heavy shelf against the shutter to reinforce it. Meanwhile, Jason dumped the duffel bag on the floor, and everyone quickly armed themselves.

  *Bang! Bang! Thud!*

  The shutter shook violently as the zombies slammed against it. The sound of their growls and pounding fists filled the air, creating a cacophony of terror. The shelf wouldn’t hold up for long. The sheer number of zombies meant their combined force would eventually break through.

  “Move! Upstairs, now!” Vincent ordered, leading the group toward the staircase. As they ran, the shutter began to buckle. A zombie managed to squeeze halfway through, its arm flailing wildly as it tried to reach them.

  “Go, go! To the roof!”

  They raced up the stairs, knowing the roof might be their last stand. The narrow staircase would slow the zombies down, but it was only a matter of time before the horde overwhelmed them. The building was seven stories tall, and by the time they reached the third floor, the shutter and shelf had given way. Zombies flooded into the store, their relentless pursuit echoing through the building.

  The group’s only hope was to reach the roof and barricade themselves in. But with the zombies closing in, their chances were slim. The race against time—and the undead—had begun.