Two Days Later
It was noon when Phase Three was officially complete.
I had positioned my controlled walkers across five strategic points: Old State Route 76, Western Freight Route, Pine Creek Trail, Coastal Service Road, and the North Highway Route. Each location now served as a chokehold—corridors of death.
These weren't just your everyday moaning meatbags. My system-controlled units had started herding the wild ones into place like undead sheepdogs. Over 10,000 walkers were now spread across those five zones—and the number kept climbing like a death-themed pyramid scheme.
Why? Because I'd programmed the system to attract and collect free-roaming walkers like they were on a Black Friday sale. The horde was no longer static. It was moving. Breathing. Hungry. Like your ex at a buffet.
But the real problem—the wild cards—were the mutated walkers.
I'd seen a few while moving between zones. Bigger, and faster. One even looked like it had been doing CrossFit in hell.
Some showed coordination. One mutant even tried to throw a rock at me. Missed, of course—but still. Evolution's a real bastard when it works against you.
I couldn't risk letting those freaks run loose.
So, I picked a location: a hidden valley, only accessible through a narrow pass. Thick ridges and collapsed rock walls blocked every other route. It was remote, isolated… perfect. Like a zombie retirement home.
I lured the mutants there—every last one I could track—and sealed them in. Then, I stationed ten heavily-armored, system-bound walkers at the pass. Their job?
Guard the door, kill anything that isn't already rotting, and keep herding more walkers inside, my three mutants are also there. Basically, undead bouncers for the worst nightclub ever.
That valley is now a time bomb. A horror zoo with no exit.
And one day, when the moment's right…
I'll let them out.
Because nothing says "surprise invasion" like a pack of walkers rage-beasts crashing the party.
With Phase Three secured and the walkers in position.
I cracked a small grin.
Time to head back—after all, I had a date to catch tonight. And believe it or not, she prefers I show up without blood on my boots... or at least not fresh blood.
Even in a world like this, where the undead moan louder than most love songs—some things were still worth showing up for.
I finally reached home. My body ached—every step felt heavier than the last. The weight of the past few days was catching up to me fast. All I wanted now was to rest, to drop everything and pass out on the nearest couch.
As I stepped past the gates, the guards immediately snapped to attention. One of them gave me a salute, the other gave me a small smile.
"Welcome back, sir."
I gave them both a nod, exhaling slowly. "Good work holding the line. Is Max inside?"
"Yes, sir. He's waiting for you," one of them replied.
"Take me to him."
The younger of the two stepped forward and began leading the way.
"What's your name?" I asked.
"Eli, sir," he replied without missing a beat.
"Good name."
He didn't respond, but I noticed the slight pride in his stride now.
Eli led me through the compound until we reached the central lot, where Max stood in conversation with a few others—looked like the carpenters and engineers. They had a k8 rolled out on a crate and were pointing at various parts, discussing something intently.
Max noticed me approaching and immediately excused himself from the group. Eli gave me a nod and stepped away, leaving the two of us.
"Sir, you're finally here," Max said, his tone relieved. "How'd it go?"
"It's done," I said.
Max gave a small grin and a nod of approval.
I excused myself and made my way to one of the buildings—specifically the one where Taylor was staying. I knocked on the door three times, trying to keep it casual and not like a guy who practiced his knock timing. No answer. Either she wasn't home, or she was strolling in the Federation.
I turned around, shrugging to myself, when fate—or more accurately, Taylor—collided with my chest like she was a surprise boss fight in a dating sim.
"Whoa!" I said, catching my balance. She looked equally startled, her eyes wide for a second before we both laughed.
"Guess I should've knocked too," she said, brushing her hair back.
I grinned. "I'm back—and I'm ready for our date tonight at 7 p.m.," I said, trying to sound smooth but probably sounding more like a game show host.
She blushed, eyes darting to the floor like they were trying to escape the situation. Then she gave me a shy nod, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Yes," she said softly.
I swear I heard romantic music in the background—either that or someone down the hall had their soap opera volume way too high.
After that, I headed to my own room, planning to take a quick bath and then a short nap. You know, something civilized. But the moment I hit the bed, exhaustion said, "Surprise! You're unconscious now," and that was the end of that.
A full week of nonstop work had finally caught up with me. My body gave up faster than a Wi-Fi signal during a storm.
And that's when the nightmare began—though not your typical horror flick with dramatic music and jump scares. No, mine had attitude. I found myself surrounded by walkers on all sides, groaning and shambling toward me like they were my unpaid interns looking for revenge.
I fought back, swinging like I was in an action movie with a terrible budget—skulls cracking, limbs flying, me yelling, "Stay down!" But these zombies? Persistent. One had its head dangling by a single chunk of zombie spaghetti neck, and it still came at me like it had something to prove.
And then, mid-fight, one actually bit me. On the arm. Rude.
I screamed, panicked, flailed dramatically like I was auditioning for a soap opera, and just when I braced myself to say goodbye to my arm—and possibly my sense of humor—I jolted awake.
Covered in sweat. Gasping for air. Clutching my very unbitten arm.
It took me a full ten seconds to realize it was just a dream.
I sank back against the pillow and groaned, "Great. Even my nightmares are sarcastic now."
I flopped back onto the bed, hoping to squeeze in a few more minutes of sleep—but just as I was dozing off again, a jolt of realization hit me like a punch to the face.
The date.
My eyes snapped open. I shot up from the bed, heart racing, and looked at the clock. Morning sunlight was already pouring through the window.
"Shit," I muttered, dragging a hand down my face. "I overslept."
The date was long gone—vanished like my motivation on a Monday morning. I had missed it completely. Just like Captain America frozen in ice, I had basically time-traveled through the night... except instead of waking up in the future to save the world, I just woke up late and alone, with bed hair and regret.
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