The repair shop was dark, filled with the faint smell of rust and motor oil. Their stomachs groaned in protest, reminding them of what they had left behind — supplies, food, everything — abandoned in the bloody chaos of the hospital.
No one spoke as they lay down on the cold, oil-stained floor. Each of them kept a careful distance from the others, casting quiet glances over their shoulders as if they were just as afraid of one another as they were of the undead outside.
"I'll keep watch," Lexi said at last, her voice steady. The others didn't protest. They were too tired, too broken to argue.
Lexi slipped outside, her steps light, her face unreadable. The streets were quiet for now — just the faint wind whistling through broken windows and the far-off shuffle of the dead. She settled into a corner where the shadows covered her and reached into her jacket pocket. Her fingers closed around something small and crinkled.
She pulled it out — a Snickers bar, the one she had hidden back at the mall when the others weren't looking. She unwrapped it slowly, the faint crackle of plastic sounding deafening in the silence, then bit into it. The sweetness filled her mouth, the taste of life in a world of rot. Her eyes glimmered faintly as she chewed.
Not sharing it didn't bother her. Not even a little.
When the bar was gone, she climbed up onto the roof, moving like a shadow among the broken shingles. She found a spot between two collapsed beams, curled up with her knees tucked in, and closed her eyes. Sleep came quickly, deep and dreamless.
Sunlight bled pale and weak through the cracked roof of the shop. The others stirred awake, hollow-eyed and sluggish. Their stomachs groaned louder now, and their lips were cracked with thirst.
Kelvin rubbed his temples, pacing. His movements were restless, his mind racing. "We can't keep going like this," he muttered. "We need weapons. Food. Shelter. If we don't find other survivors, we're finished."
His voice was sharp, carrying an edge that silenced Tori and Lisa immediately. They just nodded, their faces pale and withdrawn.
Lexi climbed down from the roof, silent, her expression calm as though she hadn't gone hungry like the rest of them. She said nothing, only watched.
They set out again, their steps dragging over cracked asphalt. The streets were littered with broken glass, twisted bicycles, and abandoned cars. The smell of rot clung to the air.
Then, Lisa pointed. "Look."
An old sedan sat at the edge of the road, its windows intact, its body only slightly dented.
Kelvin's eyes sharpened. He rushed over, tugging at the handle. The door creaked open. He slid into the driver's seat, fingers running along the wheel. "No key." His jaw tightened. Then he crouched, pulling wires from under the steering column.
"Wait—" Tori began nervously.
"Shut up. I've done this before." His hands moved fast, stripping wires, twisting them together. A spark jumped. The engine coughed, then roared to life.
The sound split the silence like a scream.
Almost instantly, a chorus of moans rose in the distance. The dead stirred. From alleys, from doorways, from the shadows of crumbling buildings — they emerged, staggering, snarling, their milky eyes snapping to the noise.
"They're coming!" Lisa shrieked.
"Get in!" Kelvin roared.
Doors slammed. Lexi slid into the back seat as the first of the infected sprinted toward them. Kelvin slammed his foot down on the pedal, the tires screeching as the car jolted forward.
The streets blurred. Bodies slammed against the sides of the car, hands clawing at the glass. One hurled itself at the hood, its rotting face pressed against the windshield as it clawed and snapped.
"Get it off!" Tori screamed.
Kelvin swerved violently, the car lurching left and right. The zombie slid across the hood and was flung onto the pavement with a sickening crack — but three more replaced it, slamming themselves against the metal as if desperate to tear inside.
"Too many!" Lisa cried.
"Shut up and hold on!" Kelvin's knuckles were white on the wheel.
The moans grew louder, a wall of sound. Hands pounded against the glass. The smell of decay seeped in through the vents.
Kelvin took a sharp turn. Too sharp.
The car screeched, spun, and slammed into the side of a collapsed building with a thunderous crash. Metal screamed, glass shattered. The impact threw them all forward.
Silence fell, broken only by groans of pain.
Lexi blinked, dazed but conscious. Blood trickled down Lisa's forehead. Tori clutched her side, wincing. Kelvin gritted his teeth, pushing himself upright, his breath ragged.
The car was wrecked. The dead were closing in again.
And they were wounded, exhausted, and out of luck.