"Shit! We've been made!" Hank's heart dropped like a stone. Panic surged through him. "Boss, we gotta run—now!"
But when he turned around, Ethan was already gone. The spot where he'd been standing was completely empty, not even a shadow left behind.
"...What the hell?!" Hank's face twisted in disbelief. This was bad—really bad.
Vexia was closing in, her expression icy cold, radiating murderous intent. Her rage was practically tangible as she advanced slowly, flanked by a pack of snarling zombie underlings.
"I know you're hiding there. Get your ass out here!"
"Shit..." Hank and a few of the lesser zombies stumbled backward, retreating from behind the boulder and pressing themselves against the entrance of a narrow tunnel. Fear flickered in their eyes as they scanned the horde closing in.
But the moment Vexia got a good look at Hank's face, her brows furrowed in disgust.
"You again?!"
