The mutant howled, and Alex flinched back, hitting the gas pump with a loud thud. Fear paralyzed him. But Sean did not move. His sharp eyes locked onto his target, analyzing every rotting muscle and every threatening movement.
"You ugly monster," Sean hissed.
He did not wait. The entire deck of cards in his hand, all fifty-two of them, glowed with a dazzling purple light. He channeled all his energy into the stack and released it in one powerful burst.
"Royal Flush," he muttered.
The cards shot forward not as separate projectiles, but as a concentrated beam of kinetic energy, forming a kind of spinning purple spear. The attack hit the mutant's chest with the force of a speeding car.
CRACK!
The monster's ribs were shattered into pieces, and it was thrown back several meters, crashing into a parked sedan and denting it. But it did not fall. It was not dead.
It got up, the gaping hole in its chest beginning to emit the same black smoke as the previous corpses. Its growl turned into a deafening scream of rage.
"It did not work?" Alex stammered, his face pale. "Oh God, we're going to die!"
"Shut up and get in the truck," Sean snapped, his tone sharper than before. He could feel a slight exhaustion after such a massive attack. He could not keep doing it.
The mutant charged again, this time faster. Sean jumped to the side, avoiding a claw that could have easily torn metal. He landed nimbly on the hood of the dented sedan, giving him a little height.
He needed something bigger. Something with mass. His eyes darted around. A wrench lay on the ground next to a flat tire.
He jumped down, snatching the wrench. As his kinetic energy flowed into it, the metal began to vibrate and glow purple.
The mutant turned and lunged at him. Sean did not back down. He swung the wrench like a baseball bat.
CLANG!
The sound of kinetically reinforced metal hitting the mutant's skull echoed throughout the gas station. Cracks ran through the thick bone, and the monster staggered sideways, its head lolling at an unnatural angle.
Sean did not give it time to recover. He leaped onto the monster's back, wrapping his arm around its thick neck, and channeled his remaining energy into one final, focused attack: a concentrated high-frequency vibration.
The mutant's head shook violently. Flesh began to come off the bone, and its cloudy eyes burst in a spray of black liquid. Finally, with a wet CRACK, its neck broke. The gigantic body collapsed to the ground like a sack of meat.
Sean jumped down, breathing heavily. Sweat soaked his forehead. He stared at his slightly trembling hands. That was more difficult than he thought.
"You... you did it," Alex whispered from the half-open truck door.
"I always do," Sean replied, trying to cover his fatigue with arrogance. He walked to the truck and snatched a bottle of water from Alex's hand, downing it in one gulp.
That was when they heard it.
Not one growl. Not one howl.
But hundreds.
From the woods, from the road behind them, from every direction. The fight had been too noisy. Too flashy. And it had attracted the attention of every undead within a one-mile radius.
They were no longer facing a slow horde. They were facing a sea of running undead, drawn by the sound of battle. And in the front ranks, Sean could see the silhouettes of several other mutants as large as the one he had just killed.
Alex slammed the truck door shut. "Start the engine! Quick!"
Sean had already turned the ignition key. The engine roared. He floored the gas pedal, the tires screeching on the asphalt as he spun the truck around and sped back onto the main road.
In the rearview mirror, he could see the sea of undead flooding the gas station, swarming the mutant's corpse and tearing it apart in a vicious act of cannibalism.
"This isn't just a refugee camp," Sean said, his eyes fixed on the road to Atlanta. "This is a war zone."
The silence in the F-150's cabin was heavier than any undead growl. Alex sat stiffly in the passenger seat, his knuckles white from gripping the dashboard. His eyes were glued to the rearview mirror, as if the sea of corpses chasing them could reappear at any moment.
Sean, in contrast, seemed calm.
"They... they're running," Alex whispered, breaking the silence. "And those big creatures... what are they?"
"Evolution," Sean replied without taking his eyes off the road. "The virus is getting smarter. Or angrier. I do not care which."
"We should not go to Atlanta," Alex continued, his voice trembling. "That radio message could be a trap. What if it's worse there? What if that's the source of all... those creatures?"
"Maybe," Sean said indifferently.
His cold demeanor frustrated Alex. "Maybe? That's all you've got? We just escaped death!"
Sean finally turned his head, his sharp, cold eyes piercing Alex. "Listen. Out there, on these empty roads, we're just prey waiting for our turn. There's no food, no safe shelter, nothing. In Atlanta, there's something. Whether it's a refugee camp or a monster nest, at least it's a goal. I'd rather die fighting than die starving while waiting."
The short, sharp monologue silenced Alex. There was a brutal, undeniable logic in Sean's words.
They kept driving. Rusty road signs indicated they were getting closer to the outskirts of Atlanta. However, a new problem blocked their way. The highway ahead was completely blocked by an abandoned military barricade, barbed wire, sandbags, and several burned-out Humvees. There was no way to get past it.
"Damn it," Alex cursed. "We have to turn back."
"No turning back," Sean said firmly. He looked at an old, folded map on the seat. "There's a small road here. It goes through a town called Fairburn. We can cut through and get back to the main highway after the barricade."
"A town? Sean, a town is a bad idea. It's bound to be full of them."
"Then we'll get through it quickly," Sean replied, already turning the steering wheel and guiding the truck to the exit for Fairburn.
The town was as Alex expected: dead. Cars were abandoned in the middle of the road, store doors were wide open, and not a single soul was visible. But the silence was the most frightening thing. There were no growls, no shuffling footsteps. It was empty.
"This is weird," Alex whispered. "It's too quiet."
"Stay alert," Sean ordered, slowing the truck as they navigated the narrow main street.
That's when he saw it. In the middle of the town square, in front of the city hall building, there was a pile. A pile of undead. Hundreds of them, stacked like firewood. Some were charred, some were torn apart, but all of them were dead, truly dead.
"Who... who did this?" Alex asked in horror.
Sean did not answer. He stopped the truck. His eyes scanned the scene, looking for details. He saw a pattern in the corpses' wounds. Large claw marks, bone-crushing bites. This was not a human's work. This was the work of the mutants.
It was as if they had "cleaned" this town of the weaker undead.
Suddenly, from the rooftop of the city hall building, a shadow moved.
Large. Muscular.
It was one of the mutants. It stood there, staring straight at their truck. It stood and observed, as if assessing the threat.
Then, another one appeared beside it. And another.
Three mutants stood in a row on the roof, staring at them with a cold, terrifying intelligence. One of them raised its large hand and pointed directly at Sean. It was not a random gesture. It was a command.
From the alleys on both sides of the street, the regular undead began to emerge. They were not running blindly. They moved in formation, blocking the road in front of and behind the truck, trapping them.
Sean gripped the steering wheel. A thin but tense smirk formed on his lips.
"So," he hissed. "They can think."
"So, they can think," Sean hissed, his eyes not leaving the three mutants on the roof. His smirk was no longer a sign of arrogance, but of the exhilaration of having found a worthy opponent.
"Think? They're commanding!" Alex shrieked, his hands gripping the door handle. "They're trapping us! We have to get out of here, Sean!"
"Getting out is the plan, genius," Sean retorted. He did not look at Alex. His focus was a hundred percent on the leader mutant in the middle, which had just pointed at him. "But not by retreating."
The truck engine was still running, its idle hum the only sound in the chilling silence. The undead in front and behind them began to walk in unison, narrowing their space. They no longer moved like individuals, but like a single unit.
"They're going to destroy us!" Alex said in despair.
"They can try." Sean let go of the steering wheel. He took the only remaining playing card from his pocket, the Joker. The card looked striking with its bright colors. "Hold on tight."
"What?"
Sean did not answer. He pressed his free palm to the truck's dashboard, right above the radio. A thick, crackling kinetic energy, much stronger than before, began to flow from his body into the entire metal frame of the F-150.
A thin purple light began to envelop the entire vehicle. The metal began to vibrate. The windshield rattled in its frame. Alex could feel the vibration creeping up his spine.
"Sean, what are you doing?!"
On the roof, the leader mutant tilted its head, as if sensing something was wrong. It let out a low growl, a command. The undead began to run.
"A little field modification," Sean said. He wedged the Joker card between his thumb and the dashboard, then channeled the rest of his energy into that single focal point. The entire truck was now glowing with a menacing purple light. "Goodbye."
He stomped the gas pedal to the floor.
The truck exploded forward like a bullet from a rifle barrel. Its tires screamed as they collided with the energized asphalt, leaving a scorched purple trail.
BOOM!
The F-150 truck hit the undead barricade in front with the force of a bomb. The corpses were not just hit; they were pulverized on contact with the kinetically charged truck chassis. Rotting flesh and bones flew in every direction.
Alex was thrown back into his seat, screaming as the truck plowed straight through the crowd without slowing down one bit.
On the roof, the three mutants jumped back in shock. Their leader roared in anger. One of the mutants next to him jumped from the roof, landing in the street. It tried to intercept the truck.
"Too late," Sean smirked.
The mutant swung its large arm. But the truck was too fast. The glowing front bumper hit the mutant's leg. There was a terrible CRACK as a pole-sized bone broke. The monster was thrown to the side, crashing into a store wall and demolishing it.
They had broken through.
Sean slammed the steering wheel, making the truck take a sharp turn around the corner, leaving the town square and the angry mutants behind. The purple energy around the truck faded, and the vibration stopped. The engine coughed, protesting the abuse.
Alex was panting, his heart pounding. He looked back. The town of Fairburn and its new inhabitants were quickly disappearing from sight.
"That... that was incredible," he whispered. He looked at Sean with a look of deep admiration. "How did you know it would work?"
Sean held up the Joker card, which was now slightly singed at the edges. "I always bet on the wild card."
He returned his focus to the road, his expression back to its calm and cold state. But there was a new glint in his eyes. Something darker, more intense.
"The problem is no longer just surviving the dead, Alex," he said, his voice low and serious. "This is a war to reclaim the food chain."