As Jake inched toward the back of the shop, the sounds grew louder, a sickening combination of scratching and low groaning. His curiosity turned to an unshakable need to find the source. Every nerve in his body screamed danger, but his legs moved without permission. His breath grew shallow as he pressed his ear to the door, catching faint, animalistic growls. It was as if something—or someone—was desperate to claw its way out.
Unbeknownst to Jake, Steve had been watching. Curious about Jake’s strange behavior, he followed at a distance, making sure his own steps were as quiet as possible. When he, too, began to hear the sickening noises from behind the door, a shiver crawled up his spine. His heart pounded, and he whispered, “Jake... Jake, what are you doing?”
Jake didn’t respond. His focus was glued to the door, the sounds pulling him in like a magnet. His hand, trembling, reached for the knob.
“Jake, stop!” Steve hissed, louder this time. But Jake, hypnotized by the groans, twisted the knob and began to pull the door open.
A low creak echoed through the shop as the door inched open, revealing two figures stumbling forward, their eyes clouded and dead, their jaws slack with hunger.
Before Jake could react, Hunter charged from the front of the shop, his voice desperate, filled with an agony that shook the walls. “Stop! STOP!” he screamed.
But it was too late. The door swung open, and the two ZedHeads staggered into the room. Hunter collapsed to his knees, his voice breaking into sobs. “No… no… not them…”
Martha turned pale, her eyes darting between the ZedHeads and Hunter. “Oh my God… his parents,” she whispered, horrified.
One of the ZedHeads—a woman with rotting flesh and blood-stained clothes—lurched toward Jake. Her teeth gnashed together as she advanced. Before she could get any closer, Steve stepped forward, gripped the spear in his hands, and yelled, “Eat this, Zed!” He drove the spear straight through her skull, the sharp tip slicing through decayed flesh and bone like butter. Her body fell limp as Steve continued to stab, his adrenaline surging with each blow. “Yeah! How’s that for a victory!” he shouted; his face twisted with a wild grin.
Jake stumbled backward in terror, losing his balance and hitting the ground hard. The male ZedHead loomed over him, its decayed hands reaching out, its jagged nails tearing into Jake’s shirt. “Help! HELP!” Jake screamed, kicking wildly as the ZedHead tried to sink its teeth into his neck.
Eli and Travis darted into action. Travis ripped an ax from the wall display, while Eli grabbed a hammer from a section that was filled with tools. Together, they lunged at the ZedHead. The ax bit into the creature’s back, while Eli brought the hammer down with brutal force. Blood and bone sprayed across the floor, painting it in a thick, blackened crimson. They didn’t stop until the ZedHead was motionless, its body a mangled heap.
Jake gasped for breath, shaking as he tried to comprehend how close he had come to death. Eli reached down, helping Jake to his feet. “You, okay?” Eli asked, his voice steady but concerned.
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“Yeah… I’m okay,” Jake muttered, still trembling. “That was too close.”
As the group caught their breath, they turned to find Hunter cradling the bodies of the ZedHeads, his face buried in their bloodied clothes, sobbing uncontrollably. “I’m so sorry… Mom… Dad…” His voice cracked as he rocked back and forth, clutching their corpses like a child holding a broken toy.
The air grew thick with the weight of grief and unease. The group stood in stunned silence, unsure of what to do or say. Paris’s mind raced. Why was he keeping his parents here? Were they ZedHeads all along?
Eli motioned for the group to gather near him. His voice was low, filled with tension. “What do we do now?”
Janice, her eyes sharp with determination, spoke up. “I still want to know what he meant by not trusting the military. He’s hiding something, and I intend to find out what.”
Paris nodded. “Me too. There’s more going on here than we know.”
Jake, still shaken, added, “I’m with you guys… whatever you decide.”
Steve, standing a bit away from the group, shrugged. “To be honest, he’s probably pissed. We killed his parents, and when he snaps out of it, he might try to kill one of us. Maybe even Jake.” Steve’s gaze drifted toward Jake, who gulped nervously.
Martha, ever the pragmatist, chimed in. “The kid’s got a point. Right, Booger?” She glanced at Travis, who crossed his arms.
“If someone did that to my mom… yeah, I’d be ready to kill. We should prepare to leave, ask him our questions on the way out, and get ready for the worst,” Travis said firmly.
The group murmured in agreement. But before they could act, Martha walked over to Hunter, hoping to soften the mood. “Hunter, honey, we—”
Suddenly, Hunter’s body stiffened, and his grief morphed into raw anger. His eyes flashed with fury, his chest heaving as he stood up with unsettling speed. In a blur, he was on Jake, his hands clamping around Jake’s throat. Jake’s eyes bulged with panic as Hunter lifted him off the ground, choking the life out of him.
“YOU KILLED THEM! YOU KILLED MY PARENTS!” Hunter’s voice was a feral roar, his grip tightening as Jake’s face turned red, his gasps for air growing weaker.
Jake felt the tightness of his grip, he began to have flashes of a memory. A foggy sight of Familiar hands wrapping around a neck, squeezing into it so tight with nails started to pierce its skin. The face and his surroundings linger as a distant familiarity, but nothing he could recognize in his amnesic state.
The group rushed forward, trying to pry Hunter’s hands from Jake’s neck, but his strength was terrifying. “Hunter, STOP! You’re killing him!” Paris screamed, her hands slipping on Jake’s sweat-soaked shirt.
Martha, her voice calm but firm, stepped closer. “Hunter… sweetheart, listen to me. This isn’t what your parents would want. Let him go. Please.”
Travis joined in, his voice steady despite the chaos. “Hunter… you don’t want to do this. We’re not your enemies. Jake didn’t mean for this to happen.”
Hunter’s grip wavered for a moment as Martha placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, honey. You’re hurting. But this isn’t the answer,” she said, her voice soft like a lullaby.
Slowly, Hunter’s rage began to melt away, and flashes began to fade from Jakes memory as Hunters’ hands loosened around Jake’s neck, and Jake fell to the floor, gasping and coughing as he sucked in precious air. The group pulled Jake away, shielding him from Hunter, who collapsed to his knees once again, tears streaming down his face.
Before anyone could speak, a deafening crash shattered the tense silence. The glass windows at the front of the shop splintered and cracked under the weight of countless ZedHeads, their grotesque forms slamming into the glass, clawing and gnashing in a frenzy. The door held—for now—but it wouldn’t last.
The group turned toward the noise, hearts pounding, blood rushing in their ears.
Paris’s mind raced. What are they going to do? What had Hunter been hiding about the military? And would the door hold against the ZedHeads for long?