People used to say the city never slept. The restless symphony of chatter, hurried footsteps, advertisement jingles, and car horns. Now, all rotted into silence.
Only occasional groans of the undead wandering aimlessly through the crumbling city remain.
A small group of survivors barreled through the empty streets, interrupting the apocalyptic silence. All huffing and puffing from exhaustion. Behind them, a crowd of undead followed. Their movements are jerky, but no sign of slowing down.
"That's the place!" Shouted one of them as he spotted a small convenience store up ahead.
Two of them turned around, raising their guns without hesitation, covering the group as they sprinted to the entrance.
Just as the last person slipping in a cold and bloody hand grabbed her sleeve. She turned, her gaze locking onto the young zombie's cloudy eyes.
"ha-hel," voice raspy and uncertain, seeming like an attempt to communicate.
SMACK!
A tall buffed man swung a shovel, landing a blow that sent the young zombie sprawling to the ground.
"Block it! Before more arrives!" someone shouted.
The group moved fast. They shoved a display shelf against the door. The late-arriving undead slammed into the glass entrance again and again. Trying to get in.
"Are you alright, Eillie?" The man with the shovel asked.
"Oh, Dave! Thank you!" she replied. Her elegant, pretty face was pale from fear. Throwing herself into the man's muscular arm to claim her heart racing from fear.
"Grab what you can! We don't have long before they break in!" one of them shouted, breaking the lover's mood.
The group quickly sweeps food, bottles of water, and first-aid kits into their bags. The store was half-looted, but there were still supplies left.
"Back there!" The leader guided the group to the door near the stockroom.
They burst into a narrow alley behind the store. Several motorcycles are parked against each other. It must have belonged to the no longer existing staff. Not in its best condition, but it was better than nothing.
"Keys!" someone shouted as they rushed to check the bike.
"Alright! This is such a bonus!" Another member cheered.
Dave helped Ellie onto the bike. She wrapped her slender arm tightly around his warm waist as he hopped onto in front of her.
"The zombie that grabbed me, I think it was trying to say something," she said, her soft angelic voice tinged with concern.
"You must be mishearing it, groaning," Dave replied calmly, his deep voice soothing even in the chaos.
"Hold on tight," Dave began to pedal. Ellie pressed her body closer to Dave's strong back for comfort.
"Hey," he said, his voice cool, calm, and steady. "We're gonna make it out of here, okay?"
Ellie nodded, brushing a lock of hair from her face, trying to give a smile.
"Yeah. We've always made it through, right?"
"Always," Dave replied.
The motorcycle peeled away from the alley, the sound of the engine cutting through the chaos as they left the dead behind. A scene that would make any action Hollywood director give a big applause and shed tears.
The world felt desolate again. The zombies walked away looking for another prey and left the fallen ones lying motionless on the ground.
Slowly, some of them began to rise, their wounds twitching as it regenerated, grotesque yet fascinating.
Among the rising, a young zombie struggles to push itself up. "This is harder than I thought," it muttered to itself.
"I…I want to go back to the lab!" The young zombie whined among the freshly risen undead that started to wander aimlessly again.