Chapter 4The Hated Ex-Boyfriend

The truck screeched to a halt in a desolate, ruined city.

The streets looked completely dead and abandoned. Was there actually anything left to scavenge here?

I eyed the men suspiciously as they prepared to disembark.

I desperately wanted to stay in the vehicle, but I was too terrified to remain alone. If a horde swarmed the truck, these men would absolutely never come back to save me.

After weighing my terrible options, I shakily followed them out.

We entered a massive, crumbling department store.

The shelves were completely barren and coated in a thick layer of grey dust. It looked like the place had been picked clean years ago.

Suddenly, a violent tremor shook the concrete floor beneath my feet.

By the time I realized what was happening, the men were already sprinting toward the exit at top speed.

My brain short-circuited. Pure instinct took over, and my legs carried me after them.

The men piled into the truck, slammed the doors, and the engine roared to life. They were not waiting for me!

They intentionally brought me out here to dispose of me!

The realization hit me like a physical blow. Uncontrollable, suffocating terror gripped my throat.

"Do not leave! Wait! Please do not leave me behind!"

I sprinted after the tires with everything I had, but the truck left me entirely in the dust.

They were gone.

And I was completely surrounded by the undead.

As the rotting, foul-smelling corpses dragged their feet closer and closer, I accepted my fate and squeezed my eyes shut.

The ruined city was blanketed by a thick, oppressive layer of grey clouds.

Amidst the gloom, a gust of wind carrying the stench of blood and decay swept through the street. A large, reinforced cargo truck slowly pulled to a stop nearby.

The noise attracted a few straggling zombies on the road. Before the monsters could even lunge, a group of people hopped out of the truck, wielding heavy blades. With terrifying efficiency, they severed the rotting heads from their bodies.

Startled by the commotion, I peeked through the narrow crack of the rusted dumpster I was currently hiding inside.

Their combat movements were brutally efficient. The three men in the group barely even blinked, decapitating zombies with single, fluid strikes.

After clearing the immediate area, the group began packing up, preparing to leave.

Panic surged through my chest. I did not care if they were saints or murderers. This city had been dead for years, and who knows when I would ever see living humans again.

I scrambled out of the filthy dumpster and sprinted awkwardly toward them.

Hearing footsteps, they instantly assumed I was a running mutant. One of the men whipped out a machete and swung it directly at my skull.

I shrieked, dropping to my knees and covering my head. "Please do not kill me! I am human! I am a good person!"

The sharp blade halted a millimeter above my scalp. A few strands of my severed hair fluttered to the asphalt. I sat completely paralyzed on the ground, a cold sweat drenching my back.

The man stared down at me, his face an absolute mask of ice, and slowly lowered his weapon.