They were here!
Sosuke Kitahara's eyes narrowed. A sudden rush of wind whistled past, followed by the blur of a frantic figure plummeting straight from the fifth floor. Headfirst, it slammed into the ground with a sickening thud, splattering like rotten fruit.
"Hahaha, what an idiot."
The onlookers burst into schadenfreude-laced laughter. They were still afraid of zombies, of course, but after so long in the apocalypse, a scene like this barely stirred their nerves. Even watching zombies devour people was no longer shocking so long as they weren't the ones being eaten.
But their smiles froze in an instant.
From various floors above, more than a dozen zombies appeared. The mall's railings were low barely chest height for an adult so the creatures vaulted over without hesitation, toppling to the ground one after another. Each impact echoed like a drumbeat.
Most of them didn't die from the fall. Even with broken bones, they dragged shattered limbs toward the group with relentless determination. More and more were appearing, dropping from above, scrambling upright with guttural roars, and charging forward.
"Fujishima, there are too many of them. Shouldn't we fall back?"
Tsumura's voice trembled as he edged closer. Fujishima's expression faltered too, but Sosuke Kitahara glanced at them sharply and said in a low, steady voice, "No. We deal with them here in the mall. Luring them outside risks too many variables, and it wastes time. It's almost two o'clock, we don't have much left."
Without another word, he gripped his blade and charged. Two zombies fell instantly beneath his swings.
Hiratsuka Shizuka's frown deepened, clearly about to object, but when she saw Haruno and the others rush forward to join him, she stomped her foot and shouted after them, "Yukino! Haruno! Don't be reckless!"
"Hurry! While they're still down from the fall, kill as many as you can!"
Kitahara wasn't throwing them into danger without thought. He knew that even without feeling pain, a zombie that fell from that height breaking bones and twisting joints wouldn't be able to run. They weren't here to flee; they were here to gather supplies. If they didn't strike now, then when?
At the front, Kitahara's long blade flashed, felling multiple zombies with each swing. Haruno and the others worked with seamless coordination any zombie that managed to struggle upright met the edge of a gleaming machete.
Even Fujishima, initially resentful of Kitahara's unilateral decision, felt his blood boil at the sight. "If even a bunch of high school kids aren't afraid to fight, are we worse than them? Brothers, with me!"
"You've got to be kidding me… I thought we were breaking up a street fight, not fighting zombies!"
Cursing under his breath, Tsumura joined the charge, only to trip flat on his face after two steps, nearly dropping his blade. Takahashi Hiromi leapt over him, yelling, "Idiot! Your shoelace is untied tie it before you get yourself killed!"
"Kill them!"
Hayama Hayato clenched his teeth, gripping his shovel as he moved forward. If he backed down now, he'd never shake his weak reputation. He even positioned himself instinctively to shield Hikigaya Hachiman behind him.
But two zombies suddenly lunged from the adjacent escalator. Hayama dodged without thinking, and in doing so left Hachiman exposed.
"Damn it!"
Hachiman was slammed to the ground, the zombie landing on top of him. Pure bad luck. But thoughts of Komachi waiting back at the base flashed through his mind. If he died here, what would happen to her? He couldn't allow that.
The dead-fish eyes usually filled with apathy now burned with grim resolve. Anticipating the zombie's bite, he jammed his steel pipe into its mouth, shoving its head aside before drawing his knife from his waist. Without hesitation, he drove the blade home, twisting it viciously for good measure.
Splurt.
The other zombie was yanked away by Kitahara, who swung his blade in a clean arc, severing its head. Hachiman gave him a brief, wordless nod of gratitude better to save his breath for killing more of them. Still, he subtly moved further from Hayama, unwilling to trust him with either his back or his front.
"Sosuke, our numbers are dropping fast!" Kasumigaoka Utaha called as she cleaved another zombie.
Kitahara had already noticed. They'd entered the mall with more than thirty people. Now, with the flood of zombies, some cowards had bolted through side doors. Those remaining included Kitahara's group of four and maybe eight or nine from Fujishima's team.
Truthfully, these first-tier zombies weren't as terrifying as they seemed. Once you got used to them, killing them was like bungee jumping the first couple of times were terrifying, but eventually the fear dulled.
They were straightforward, driven only by hunger for flesh, with none of the cunning cruelty of humans.
This was why Kitahara had no interest in building a settlement just yet. The apocalypse was a sieve cowards and dead weight would be filtered out over time. Early settlements would always be filled with such people, still clinging to pre-apocalypse notions of civility.
In a few months, desertion like this would be punished by feeding the offender to the zombies. But here? With nearly four hundred mouths to feed, Fujishima wouldn't dare inflict real harm. At worst, the cowards would face some token punishment before being welcomed back.
"Up the escalator!"
Kitahara's command rang out. Zombies were dropping faster and faster from above, and he wasn't about to let the ones who remained take unnecessary losses. He led the charge onto the moving escalator.
They met more zombies on the second floor, but the numbers weren't high. Without needing further instruction, the group rushed to engage.
Kitahara grabbed Hayama, who had been charging blindly upward. "Stop running! Hold this floor you find the main group!"
For once, Hayama didn't argue, gripping his shovel and rushing to help the others.
The zombies below scrambled after them, but here, in the narrow choke point, their numbers meant nothing.
Standing at the escalator entrance, Sosuke Kitahara looked every inch the war god. His expression was unreadable as he adjusted his breathing rhythm, blade flashing in relentless arcs. Every strike was aimed squarely at the head, and with each swing, another zombie toppled, its skull split by cold steel.
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