Dogdangit, it was faster than me.

I could hear the zombie guardian gaining with every ragged step. I pushed further into the warehouse, darting around broken crates and tipping over pallets. My heart thrummed in my chest like a caged wolf.

And the zombie slid ever closer.

This thing was too strong for me to take head on. I could practically feel the power emanating off of it. Maybe if my stun wands were usable, but they still had a few minutes left on cooldown. Until then, stopping, even for a Claw Slash, would likely mean destruction.

In desperation, I turned sharply and dove between some pallets. I wriggled, and squeezed, and had almost made it to the other side of the shelf when I felt a gooey hand wrap around my hind leg. I let out a yelp of surprise and kicked. The hand dragged me backwards. It got struck trying to maneuver around the pallets, and I kicked again. This time, I broke free.

As I tumbled into the empty row beyond, I risked a look back. The zombie was oozing its way between boxes, either subsuming the material or simply gliding over and around. The process barely slowed it.

I ran again, heedless of where I might be going. All I wanted was to get away.

Had I been more in my right mind, I might have made for the exit then. If I had, likely I would have died, run down in the open parking lot with nowhere to hide, no object to slow down the boss’s exorable advance.

Luckily, I didn’t. The open door of the warehouse office yawned in front of me, and I dove through it just as the zombie cleared the last of the shelf and lunged for me.

My legs hit the office carpet and rolled under me. I spun about several times before slamming into the wall, my vision left twirling as the rest of me lay there heaving for breath. Slowly, my eyes settled back to normal, and focused on the door.

The zombie guardian slammed into both door and window with enough force to shake the building. Glass shattered, spraying inward, though none of it got far enough to reach me.

Neither did the boss’s arms, which strained towards where I lay, but fell—just barely—out of reach. I watched with heart pounding, only relaxing when the arms retracted. The zombie let out a moan of frustration, then lurched away out of view.

I lay there, the minutes stretching out, afraid to even move. Only when the sound of the boss’s slimy shuffle faded into the distance did I risk standing up. It was several more minutes before I approached the door.

Part of me expected to see that wall of goo and bones reappear in my vision the moment I stuck my head out the door, but the lane was quiet. I could still see it in the distance, though.

It was standing—mounding?—back in front of the entrance.

Waiting for me.

Only one way into the warehouse, and one way out. I knew it. The boss knew it. Heck, the fire marshal had probably known it, not that they’d apparently ever done anything about this death trap of a building...

Huh. That gave me an idea.

I turned and padded over to where the corpse of the human lay. Like I’d seen before, they’d left several bottles of whiskey unfinished. Most were open, and I ignored these, after a cursory sniff told me they likely didn’t have enough alcohol left for what I had planned. But there were two unopened bottles near the back. Perfect.

Now came the challenging part—getting them open.

You know what humans have that dogs don’t? Hands. You know what we use instead? Our teeth.

So when I nearly cracked a tooth trying to gnaw one of the tops off the dang things, it was all I could do not to howl in frustration. I eventually managed it by turning it on its side, gripping the bottle in my paws, and wiggling the top back and forth. Then I nearly wasted it all before I could get the bottle upright again. Aggravating, to say the least.

But soon I had both bottles ready.

I hadn’t wanted to get too close, but a search around the corpse hadn’t turned up what I needed. So, I nosed up close to the dead human and began sniffing around. Whew... for better or worse, this one was definitely not fresh, and my lips curled back in disgust as I nudged around inside its coat. Dried blood dusted off around me like bits of gray confetti.

Finally, after a short search I found what I was looking for. A small box of matches.

Back to more mouth action. Now I had to be careful. I had no idea whether these would still work if they were wet, but trying to get the box opened with paws alone was an impossible challenge. I didn’t want to destroy it utterly, or risk harming the matches inside.

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With the tip of my nose, I managed to nudge it open. I took one of the sticks as gently between my teeth as I could.

My first three attempts yielded nothing. No matter how I dragged the match along the box, I couldn’t get it to light. Even gripped between my paws, the box managed to wriggle too much. There wasn’t enough force behind it.

I ended up dragging the match on the cement wall to get it lit. When it did flare to life, I was so surprised I dropped it. The match fell to the carpet, burned for a brief second, then went out.

With a sigh, I returned to the box and tried again.

Several matches later, I’d discovered a flaw in my plan. The match only burned for a second or two before going out. I wasn’t sure that would be enough time.

I tried lighting one of the cigars instead, thinking it might have a slower burn to it, but it wouldn’t light. It occurred to me that perhaps the matches hadn’t been meant for the cigars, and I did find a lighter lying on the floor nearby, but there was no way I’d manage to get that started with my paws and teeth. So, matches would just have to do.

I padded to the open door and peeked out again. The zombie guardian hadn’t moved. I took a tentative step outside. Still nothing. Satisfied, I returned and grabbed one of the bottles between my teeth.

It took three trips to get everything ready. I moved a short distance back in the warehouse, not wanting to go too deep in case this failed, and I needed to hide in the office again. Finding an open space with plenty of broken pallets, I set to work.

Luckily, the goo-zombies had done much of the work for me, smashing crates and ripping pallets apart, so there was already a sizeable amount of wood lying in the area. I nosed and kicked it into a better position, wincing every time I made a noise for fear the boss would come running. But it didn’t, and soon I had everything laid out.

I loped towards the front of the warehouse, slowing down as I approached. The sooner I could snag the boss’s attention, the better it would be for me. I wanted as much runtime as possible.

Luckily, it seemed to sense me when I was still almost a hundred feet out. With a muffled groan, it started lurching in my direction.

I turned and ran, full pelt, trusting it to follow. Within seconds I was past my wood piles and in position.

The zombie guardian shuffled into range a moment later, barely seconds behind me. If I’d had less distance between us at the start this wouldn’t have worked. I still didn’t know if it would.

For all I knew, the goo that made up these zombies was flame resistant, or the boss had some other protection I was unaware of. Or my plan just flat-out wouldn’t work. There were a lot of possibilities.

Still, I stood my ground as the zombie guardian heaved forward. It reached the wood piles, sliding across a wet spot on the floor. My discarded whiskey bottles lay nearby.

Immediately, I fired off the first of my stun shots. It hit the boss right in the center, freezing him in place. Another factor I hadn’t known would work or not. Lucky day for me today, apparently.

Five seconds. I lowered my head, the match gripped tightly between my teeth. Four. Three...

The match dragged across the surface of the cement floor, igniting instantly. Two.

I dropped it. The whiskey caught fire. Flames rushed forward, licking up the broken pallets to either side of the boss. One.

I was already running. Zero.

The boss let out a shriek. Not a moan, and certainly not muffled. Even as I pelted between the crate-filled shelves, trying to get some space between me and the monster, I risked looking back.

Huh. It appeared the goo that made up these zombie was, in fact, flammable.

Behind me, the zombie guardian flailed. Its whole body was wreathed in flames, and the shriek I’d heard before continued to emanate from it as the boss slammed into first one shelf, then another. The first pitched over from the force, setting off a domino effect through the warehouse. I turned tail and ran, hoping I could stay ahead of the destruction.

And the boss.

Behind me, crashing noises continued, then I heard the shrieking begin moving in my direction. Quickly. Being on fire apparently didn’t inhibit the zombie guardian’s ability to move. The sound grew behind me at a faster pace than I’d have preferred.

But the opening to the warehouse yawned in front of me. And beside it, a button panel that I was fairly certain operated the doors.

I leapt as it came within reach, my paws scrabbling at the buttons. Overhead, the massive door began to slowly slide downward. Too slowly.

I glanced back. Then wished I hadn’t. The zombie guardian was rushing up the aisle, an enormous ball of flames careening into every shelf and pallet as it went. There were dozens of fires burning behind it, and already the warehouse was beginning to fill with smoke.

C’mon, c’mon! My paw pressed on the button harder, but the door didn’t oblige, just continued its slow descent. It was still a good ten feet from the floor.

The zombie guardian loomed behind me, the shriek painful in my ears. I spun and used my last stun against it. The shriek cut off as it lurched to a halt.

Five.

My paws pressed on the button again.

Four.

The door moved down to seven feet.

Three.

Now it was only six feet.

Two.

Five feet.

One.

I released the button and dove through the opening, which was still at least four feet from the ground.

Zero.

The zombie guardian roared and lunged forward. I hit the cement outside and scrabbled away as multiple arms flailed through the opening after me. Spinning around, I watched, unsure if it would be able to squeeze its flaming bulk through that small of an opening.

It didn’t. The arms continued to reach for me until flames spread down them enough that they fell away, burning to ash before they even hit the ground. The zombie shrieked, then retreated back into the warehouse. Smoke billowed from the opening in its absence, and the heat was intense enough I had to retreat even further.

I’d done it. Whether the boss died or not, I was safe. The entire building would have to come down on its head before that massive goo ball had any chance of freedom.

Which made the next notification that appeared all the sweeter.

You have defeated: Zombie Guardian (Advanced) — Level 8

600 XP, 1 Common Core, and 1 Green Quality Loot Box awarded.