Sean flicked a playing card between his fingers. Flick, flick, flick. A calming rhythm amidst the sea of death stretching across Interstate 85. The stench of roasting flesh under the Georgia sun had become his daily perfume, and the low groan of hundreds of the undead ahead was just background music.
They were slow and stupid.
"They're getting closer!" A voice from inside a sedan next to him sounded panicked, almost breaking. "Oh God, we're going to die!"
Sean did not even turn his head. His sharp eyes, the only part of him visible as the other side of his face was covered by his long bangs, were locked on the leader of the horde. "Dying is boring," Sean replied, his tone flat and cold. "But you, if you do not shut up, will be the first to taste it."
He stopped flicking the card. A single King of Spades was wedged between his index and middle fingers. A thin, crackling purple energy enveloped the card, barely visible under the glaring sunlight.
"What are you..."
SWISH!
Sean threw it. The card shot like a bullet, cutting through the hot air and hitting the kneecap of the leading undead. There was no big explosion, just a sickening CRACK like a bone being forcibly broken. The corpse fell, and two behind it stumbled, creating a small, chaotic domino effect.
Enough. That gave him a few seconds.
"Get out of the car," Sean commanded, finally turning towards the sedan. Inside, a young man, perhaps in his early twenties, stared at him with wide eyes of horror. "Now. I'll make a path."
"A path to where? It's all hell!"
"I like hell," Sean replied with a thin smirk. "At least it's warm there."
He did not wait for an answer. Three more cards jumped from the deck into his hand, the Queen, Jack, and Ten of Spades. He channeled kinetic energy into all three at once, making their edges glow with a dangerous purple light.
"Stay behind me. Do not fall. Do not scream," he hissed at the young man who was now out of the car, shaking. "And do not touch me."
With that, Sean moved.
He did not run. He danced between the wrecks of cars. His movements were nimble, almost unreal. Every step was calculated. One card shot to the left, shattering the ankle of a corpse that tried to ambush him from the side. Another slid straight ahead, exploding another corpse's knee and making it crumple.
The young man was panting behind him, trying hard to keep up. "How do you do that?"
"Practice," Sean answered shortly. He leaped onto the hood of a car, landed soundlessly, and kicked another car's door open, knocking down an undead that was blocking the way. He did not waste his energy on the unnecessary.
Their goal was clear: a Ford F-150 pickup truck parked at an angle about fifty meters ahead. The key was in the ignition. Stupid, but lucky for them.
"Almost there!" the young man shouted, his voice full of hope.
The horde began to close in. The gap he had created was narrowing. Five undead were blocking their path to the truck, too close to get through.
"Damn it!" the young man cursed.
Sean only clicked his tongue. "Noisy." He took the rest of the cards in his hand, about twenty of them. A thicker purple energy enveloped his hand, making the air around him vibrate. He did not throw them one by one.
He fanned them out like a dealer at a poker table.
The cards rained down on the five undead. Each card exploded on contact, not with fire, but with pure kinetic force. POP! POP! POP! POP! The sound of small, muffled explosions tore through the rotting flesh, broke bones, and forced all five to fall in a pile of crippled limbs.
The path was open.
Sean jumped into the truck's driver's seat, not minding the bloodstains on the dashboard. The young man quickly followed, slamming the door shut. "My name is Alex," he said, out of breath.
"I do not care," Sean replied, his hand already turning the ignition key. The truck's engine roared to life, the most beautiful sound they had ever heard. Without hesitation, he rammed the car in front to clear a path, then steered the wheel roughly, heading for the nearest exit ramp.
The truck sped away, leaving the sea of undead behind. Alex stared at Sean, a mixture of fear and admiration. "Who are you?"
Sean smirked, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "Someone who hates traffic."
Just then, the truck's broken radio crackled. Static filled the cabin, interspersed with the voice of a desperate man.
"...anyone out there... if anyone hears this... we're in Atlanta... there's a refugee camp... outside the city... I repeat, there are survivors..."
Sean's smirk faded. His eyes narrowed. Atlanta.
The radio went back to static, but the message was delivered. False hope or a trap? He did not know. But it was a goal. And in this world, a goal was the only thing more valuable than a bullet.
The F-150 sped down the deserted road, leaving Interstate 85. Alex kept glancing at Sean, his mouth opening and closing a few times as if to speak, but no sound came out. Sean paid him no mind. His gaze was fixed straight ahead, one hand on the steering wheel while the other casually shuffled a deck of playing cards.
"You're not a soldier," Alex finally managed to say, more of a statement than a question.
"No," Sean answered curtly.
"Then... how can you... do that?"
"I'm talented."
The answer was clearly not satisfying for Alex, but he was smart enough not to ask further. He turned his gaze to the decaying Georgia countryside outside the window. Empty houses, overgrown lawns, and occasionally, an undead walking aimlessly in a field.
"So... Atlanta," Alex said, trying to fill the suffocating silence. "Do you think that radio message is real?"
"Hope is the first bullet you waste," Sean said, his eyes catching the fuel gauge that was almost touching the red line. "We need gas. And food. You look like you're about to pass out."
Sean turned the truck onto a small road leading to a seemingly abandoned gas station and convenience store. The "Dixie Gas" brand above it was rusted.
"Stop!" Alex hissed suddenly, pointing ahead. "Look!"
In front of the store, three undead were feasting. Not on a deer or some other wild animal, but on a fellow undead. They were tearing and chewing the rotting flesh from a fourth, crippled corpse on the ground. The sight was much more terrifying than the horde on the highway.
"Are they cannibalizing?" Alex whispered in horror.
"Something new," Sean muttered, his eyes narrowing. He parked the truck behind the building, hidden from view. "This changes the rules of the game." He turned off the engine and looked at Alex. "Listen. You go into the store, grab water, canned food, anything you can carry. I'll take care of them. No noise. Five minutes."
"You're going to kill them all?"
Sean gave a cold smirk. "I'm going to make them regret not being truly dead."
He got out of the truck. Alex watched him pick up a few sharp pebbles from the ground. Purple energy crackled between his fingers as he held the stones.
Alex swallowed and hurried toward the back door of the convenience store. The door was unlocked. Inside, the smell of mustiness and death greeted him. He moved quickly, grabbing bottles of water and putting them into a backpack he found on the floor.
Outside, Sean peeked from the corner of the building. The three corpses were still busy with their prey. They seemed more... alert. Their heads occasionally lifted, sniffing the air. These were not the usual stupid undead he was used to.
Sean did not use his cards. He needed something quieter, more precise. He flicked a single pebble. The stone shot silently, enveloped in kinetic energy, and lodged itself squarely in the temple of the first corpse. The corpse collapsed without a sound.
The two remaining ones immediately stopped. They looked up, low growls escaping their throats. They knew something was wrong.
Before they could react, two more pebbles shot through the air. One hit an eye, penetrating to the brain. The second shattered the base of the skull. Both fell on top of the first corpse.
Sean walked over to the pile of corpses. He noticed something strange. The flesh they were eating... was giving off a thin, blackish smoke. And there was a pungent, acidic smell.
Just then, Alex came out of the store, his hands full of canned food. "I got a lot!" he whispered triumphantly.
"Good," Sean said, his eyes still fixed on the strange corpses. "Now we leave."
Suddenly, from the woods across the road, the sound of a breaking branch was heard. A heavy sound. Too heavy for a normal undead.
Sean immediately pushed Alex behind him, a deck of cards already in his hand, glowing with a menacing purple energy. "Get in the truck," he commanded in a low voice.
From between the trees, a large creature emerged. It was almost seven feet tall, its body swollen with rotting muscles, and its jaw was torn, revealing blackened teeth. It was an undead, but it had mutated into something far more horrifying. Its cloudy, hateful eyes were fixed on them.
The creature roared, a sound that shook the air, and began to run toward them. Its speed was unbelievable.
"Atlanta," Sean hissed to himself, a cynical smile on his lips. "Of course it would not be that easy."