The savage, guttural howls were getting closer—fast. The mixed horde of zombies had already surged to the mountaintop, crawling up from the edges like demons clawing their way out of hell.
Grotesque faces emerged one after another, quickly forming a dense, writhing mass. Blood stained many of their mouths, fresh from devouring flesh. They were in a frenzy—completely unhinged.
The moment they spotted the humans holding the line ahead, their excitement only intensified. They shoved and trampled over each other in a mad rush, like a tidal wave crashing down.
"They're here…"
Mia and the others stood at the entrance to the shelter. The mountain wind howled past, whipping their hair around. In their eyes, a flicker of grim resolve.
Then, from the loudspeakers behind them, an old man's voice rang out—steady and strong:
"Children… this is the moment of life and death. Don't cry. Grip your weapons tight, and keep fighting."
