I hit the ground hard and threw up the second I got my breath back. My stomach twisted as I looked around.
'Back again…? No. Wait. This isn't the same place. I'm in the city this time. So when I die… the checkpoint changes? Damn.'
"Anyway," Tom said, voice steady like nothing had happened. "We gotta head toward the hospital. We're supposed to meet someone. There's a helipad on the roof—if we make it up there, maybe we'll actually find somewhere safe."
I nodded along like I agreed, but inside?'Safe, huh? These bastards left me to die without hesitation. Pops abandoned his own niece. That hate burns deep. But… I still need them. Numbers mean survival. And I still have to see Jaloni again.'
Time dragged on, our footsteps echoing through cracked streets. I got bored and started predicting Frank's dumb stories word for word. He nearly shit himself, swore I'd heard them before. I just smirked.
Then I froze."Wait. Banshee up ahead. Get down," I whispered.
The group listened, crouching low.
"So… what's a banshee?" Tom muttered.
After I explained, we watched it pacing, growling, too close for comfort. My hands weren't steady enough for the shot.
"Tom. Take it."
BANG.
The banshee's head exploded, body dropping like a puppet with its strings cut."Nice. Let's keep moving," I said, maybe a little too cheerfully.
But above us, on some rooftop, a shadow moved. Watching.
"Finally, the building," Frank sighed in relief. Too early. Inside was crawling with more of the dead.
"Down. Now." Tom's tone turned sharp, commanding. We crept toward the stairs.
"It's working. They're not attacking us," Jojo whispered. "We might actually make it—"
She never finished.
Because on the stairs, a monster blocked the way. A massive zombie, body stretched wrong. Legs like pillars, arms like boulders—and stitched all over with writhing corpses fused into its skin.
Frank screamed first."HOLY SHIT! RUN!"
RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
The floor trembled as it charged. We bolted through a side door into the fourth floor. Seven total. Only way up was across the building or… the elevator.
The fused abomination didn't slow. "SHOOT IT! IT WON'T STOP!" Pops roared, firing his rifle. Bullets hit but did nothing. Beds and equipment cluttered the hallway, slowing us down.
Four minutes. That's how long we sprinted, weaving through wreckage, unloading every bullet we had. Finally—stairs.
"GO, GO!" Tom yelled, holding the door open.
The beast didn't bother with doors. It smashed straight through the wall, bringing a swarm of groaning corpses with it. Its roar shattered the air.
The stairs cracked under its weight as it climbed, closer and closer. I swear I pissed myself a little. Fifteen feet of nightmare barreling after us like a gorilla on crack—who wouldn't?
Destruction followed it, chunks of concrete flying. Pops slipped. He grabbed the railing, hanging on by one hand. No one stopped. No one looked—except Jojo. Tears streamed down her face. She didn't even cry his name.
By the time Tom threw open the next door, Pops was gone. No scream. Just silence.
We collapsed, panting. Jojo's eyes found mine, guilt pressing down like chains."I'm sorry," I muttered, unable to meet her gaze. "I couldn't react… it was too fast."
She shook her head. "We just met. I didn't expect you to. It's fine…" Her voice cracked.
I let it drop. Talking more would only make me hate myself worse.
"Tom. When's that rescue coming? We didn't fight for nothing, right?"
Nothing. Just silence.
"Tom?" I stepped closer. "You… do have a way out, don't you?"
Still nothing. His back stayed turned.
I snapped, grabbed his shirt. "TELL US! TELL ME THIS WASN'T ALL FOR NOTHING!"
Finally, he whispered, broken. "Pops had it…"
"What? Speak up!"
"POPS HAD THE RADIO! THE ONLY WAY TO CALL THEM! HE'S GONE, DON'T YOU GET IT?!"
Silence. Again. It drilled into my skull. Tom stared at nothing. Frank sat slumped against the wall, too quiet. Too still.
Jojo shuffled closer, head low. "Hey… I'm hungry. Please tell me you have food."
My chest tightened. "I… I only have enough for me. Not even enough to split with Frank. And like you said—we just met." Selfish. But survival's selfish.
The silence stretched. Then—her gun was in her hand.
"I wasn't asking. Give me your stuff or you'll end up like him."
I froze. Looked at Frank again. His eyes were open, but his body was limp. My stomach dropped."…What did you do?"
"I stabbed him in the head. Propped him against the wall so you wouldn't notice." Her voice cracked, but her aim didn't.
I backed toward the edge. "You don't have to do this. I didn't wrong you. You're still good inside—I know it."
"Stop acting like you care. You didn't even try to save Pops. None of you did." Tears mixed with rage.
I glanced at Tom. "Tom! DO SOMETHING! SHE'S LOSING IT!"
But Tom just… stared.
'What the hell is happening?'
Jojo stepped closer. "Drop your stuff. Then jump."
"What if I just give it and go downstairs? You don't have to kill me—"
"No. You'll come for me later. I'm done with this. Jump or die."
I broke. Dropped to my knees, sobbing. "Why me? Even after they left you, you still avenge them?"
"You've lost your mind," she spat.
I laughed bitterly. "Oh right… you don't know. Nobody knows. I've died. Over and over. Just to end up here again. And now… in the hands of the one I saved."
I screamed at the ceiling. "ARE YOU WATCHING?! IS THIS THE JOKE?!"
BANG.
My body staggered. Blood filled my lungs. My vision dimmed.
"Crazy bastard," Jojo muttered. "Guess you wanted it this way. Say hi to Pops for me."
And then… pain. But also peace. My heart slowed. My breath slipped away.
'Finally… maybe this time, I'm free.'