Clara bound over the grid of trampolines away from the melee. Two trampolines away, Abigail climbed out of the pit where she’d fallen. Inside, chunks of multicoloured foam obscured a dozen child zombies, too small to ever climb out. One still clung to Abigail’s massive legs, only the size of a human baby. Abigail kicked it off like a bucking horse, sending it cascading over the pit with a hiss. Then she laid flat on the trampoline, panting. Despite her Augmentation, the fighting had taken its toll.

Sax stood guard over her, shortsword in hand. Around them lay the bodies of the dead. Minutes earlier, zombies had streamed into the warehouse from outside, forcing them to retreat up the stairs to a cafe area and down the other side into a trampoline park. Many more zombies had been trapped inside the cafe room above, and when one of Clara’s stray rounds had shattered the window, they came pouring out over the trampolines, bounding like locusts towards their prey.

Abigail had fought bravely with Sax at her side, who dipped in and out to cut the stragglers down. The Grizzlies tribe specialised in melee combat, deft in tight spaces while Clara struggled to hit accurate shots in the dark. It seemed like they’d won, when with one misstep, Abigail had fallen backwards into a pit of foam and lurking zombies.

Now, she lay on her back clutching her chest. The veins in her hands bulged an ugly purple. Her spear lay at her side. She’d been bitten, so she was doomed. But maybe being Augmented gave her extra defences against this infection? It was impossible to know. Every apocalypse was different, and humanity’s knowledge of Augmentation technology was limited. Perhaps she could fight the infection for a little longer, perhaps even overcome it?

A zombie loped towards Sax, who knelt over Abigail, frantically gutting a first aid kit. Clara braced her legs on the unstable trampoline and fired her submachine gun at the zombie. After a burst of shots, her target staggered backwards and went down. Clara’s weapon clicked dry. She slung the submachine gun over her shoulder and drew her sidearm–a basic .45 calibre pistol.

Suddenly, an explosion detonated from behind the cafe, near the entryway. It must have been Andy. He must be nearby. Clara unhooked her radio and clicked it to transmit. “Abigail is bitten. I need backup. The trampoline park is-”

Clara ducked on instinct as something collided with her side. She rolled upright and fired at the attacker. Before she knew it, her pistol magazine was empty. Clara cursed, she’d panicked and spammed the trigger. Reloading quickly, she breathed heavily, trying to snuff the adrenaline pumping through her veins. Clara scanned the trampoline park in the glow of her headlamp. It was too dark, too easy for something to sneak up on her.

Sax screamed. Abigail was on her knees, clutching his skull in one massive hand. She pulled his arm with the other, tearing the joints and ligaments in his neck and shoulders until his scream was cut off with a snap. She kept pulling, kept tearing his body until she ripped his head free of his shoulders with a spray of blood. The huge woman dug her face into the cavity, gorging herself on his flesh.

What a way to go out. Clara’s stomach turned and she fought not to vomit, raising her pistol. She fired at Abigail, trying to pick her shots, but it was like shooting the dirt–there was no reaction, no sign that she’d done any damage.

Abigail dropped Sax’s corpse and rose to meet Clara’s gaze. The zombie hulk launched itself towards Clara, bounding over the trampolines. Frantically, Clara aimed for the head, but she couldn’t draw a bead. Remembering Andy’s advice, switched to the legs, emptying her magazine at the raging bull.

Zombie Abigail barrelled into her. Clara jumped, but a massive arm struck her in the chest. Clara tumbled over the trampolines, skidding to a halt above a foam pit. Beneath her, children zombies swarmed for her flesh like piranhas in a tank. One grabbed her ponytail. Clara screamed, but then a muscular hand clutched her by the ankle and dragged her away.

Abigail’s twisted face loomed above her, mouth agape, soaked in blood. Clara was trapped beneath her, clutching for a dagger. She stabbed Abigail in the heart, unable to reach her face. It had no effect. Abigail’s eyes were glazed over, but pin-point pupils looked down at Clara from murky depths. There was still something going on in her mind–still a scrap of humanity behind those eyes, bathed in carnal desire.

Abigail’s head snapped to the side with a crack. Three more rounds struck her in the shoulder and chest, lifting her off Clara with enough force that she could make an escape. Climbing out from under the corpse, she spotted Andy atop the cafe’s balcony aiming down the barrel of his rifle. There were two others with him, each dressed in lab coats.

“Fire exit,” Andy shouted, pointing at the far wall. Clara reloaded her pistol with her final magazine while she waited for him to catch up. Together, they made a run for it. The four of them bounded across trampolines until they got to the edge. Her ribs ached but nothing felt broken. Hopping off the trampolines, Andy barged through the fire exit into the cold night air.

Outside, zombies meandered towards the buildings’ entrance, drawn by the sound of the explosion, but without a clue of what route to take. Andy ran forward, clearing a path towards their jeep. Clara slid inside the vehicle and started the engine–she’d left the keys in the ignition for a quick getaway. She kicked on the gas and they sped out of the car park with a growl.

“You alright?” Andy said behind her. His eyes were wild, she rarely saw him look so afraid.

“I’m good.”

“Not bitten?”

Clara shook her head, quickly checking her hands and arms. “I’m good, you?”

Andy relaxed back into the middle seat between the two scientists. “Peachy,” he winked.

“You two?” Clara turned around in her seat. “Are you bitten?”

Each of them shook their heads, eyes wide, seeming to understand the implication. The woman rolled up the sleeves of her lab coat, presenting her hands.

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“No,” she said. “Just scratched.”

“Are there anymore?” Clara said.

“No, I’m not bitten.”

“No, I mean people. Anyone else out here?”

“No,” the man said, eyes fixed on the road. “Drive.”

Clara had a dozen more questions, but figured the scientists needed a little more time to recover. The woman held her head in her hands, softly sobbing, while the man watched out of the window. He had a shocked expression on his face, terror subdued by exhaustion. Clara breathed deep and focussed on her driving. The road ahead quietened, and in the dark, she replayed what had just happened in her mind. Sax was dead. Abigail had been bitten. Andy had killed her. She ran through a checklist, organising things until she felt a semblance of control. Had the scientists been bitten? Probably not–she could trust that Andy would have shot them immediately if they had. How was their ammunition? Andy was already replenishing his rounds from their cache in the boot. She wondered how he kept so calm in situations like this. It wasn’t just his Augmentation either, he’d been like it since the beginning of the cataclysm, even before he’d injected the serum. Clara took a deep breath and wound her window down, but the glass creaked where it was held together by duct tape since their encounter with the carnivorous plants.

Miles away from Marsay city, the roads grew quiet. The night was peaceful, but gunshots and explosions still echoed in Clara’s mind. She felt like she couldn’t quite relax yet; all it took was the smallest mistake, and you might fall into a pit and get bitten. Clara shivered and took a sip of water.

“Could I…” The woman in the back started, but seemed unsure of herself. “Please, I’m very thirsty.”

“Of course.” Clara handed the bottle. “Share it around. There’s plenty.”

“Thank you.” Her voice fell heavy with relief. The woman’s silky black hair fell over her shoulders like a veil, thin and unruly. “God bless you.”

“That’s alright,” Clara said. “I bet you’re wondering who we are?”

“You must be angels,” she said, rubbing a golden bangle on her wrist.

“Mercenaries, actually. You worked for Old Blue Eyes, yeah?”

“That’s right.”

“We were in your research facility this afternoon looking for you two. We’re the reinforcements. It’s our mission to rescue you and the tech you’ve been working on. My name’s Clara. That’s Andy.”

“Riddhi,” she said. Finishing the water, she handed it to her colleague. “Do you have a hair band I could borrow please, Clara?”

“I do.” Clara fished one out of her pocket.

The woman combed her black matted hair through her fingers, tying it behind her head. “We were overwhelmed at the laboratory. We had to evacuate. We tried to send Old Blue Eyes a transmission, but we don’t know if it worked. Then power to the whole building went out. What else could we do?”

“Evil forces,” the man said.

Clara inspected him. “It’s Linton, right?”

His head picked up. “That’s right. Who’s asking?”

“We work for Blue Eyes too. Don’t worry.”

Linton glanced at Andy wearily, who was slotting bullets into his rifle’s magazines, ignoring their conversation.

“So, the technology,” Clara said. “We were tasked to rescue you, and whatever else we could salvage.”

“I’s gone,” Linton said.

“Are we talking about the briefcase?” Clara asked. “I saw your final transmission when we got the power back on. You said something about a prototype, yeah?”

“That’s classified,” Linton said. “You are correct about the briefcase. My research is housed within a reinforced vacuum chamber, fitted with an explosive failsafe. If anyone tries to break in…” Linton made a mute explosion sound with his hands.

“Where is it now?” Clara said.

Linton clenched his jaw and lowered his gaze, glowering into the footwell.

“It was stolen,” Riddhi said. “A gang of cultists. They were riding motorbikes, they had weapons. I foolishly thought they had come to help.”

“I had assumed that they were just eccentrics,” Linton said through gritted teeth. “Goths.”

“When we asked for their help, they talked about devil worship.” Riddhi shivered and shrank back in her seat. “They stole it and shot Derek in the head.”

“Execution,” Linton said.

“No reason for it,” Riddhi said. “We had surrendered to them.”

“Scum,” Linton said.

Clara shared a glance with Andy in the mirror. He raised his eyebrows in mock shock towards Linton’s vitriol.

“Any idea where they took the briefcase?” Clara said.

“Yes.” Linton fished in the deep buttoned pocket of his lab coat and withdrew a small radio-like device. “The briefcase has a tracker installed.”

“Excellent,” Clara said. “Which way is it pointing?”

Linton inspected the panel. “East. So, you are pursuing them?”

“That’s correct. How accurate is the tracker?”

“I’ll be able to provide a more reliable reading once we’re closer to it.”

“But we’re heading in the right direction,” Clara said, trying on a positive tone. “Alright, we can still salvage this.”

Linton sat back, holding the tracking device to his chest. “Those goth degenerates won’t be able to get inside without the key. Not even with heavy tools. There’s a failsafe, should they try, which will detonate the contents should the inner casing become breached.”

“So we’re on the clock to retrieve it, before they start chiselling away?” Clara said.

“That’s correct.”

“What’s inside?” Andy said.

“I’ve already told you,” Linton said. “That’s classified.”

“Alright,” Andy said. “Is it a bomb?”

Linton scowled. “No.”

“Because I don’t want it going off in my hands while I’m running around with it.”

“It’s not a bomb.”

“Might it explode? Hmm?” Andy said, mimicking the scientist's accent for some reason.

“No…” he stammered. “Not unless you try to break into it.”

“So if I bang it on a wall, it’s going to blow up?”

“No-”

“What is this, twenty questions?” Andy leaned over, boxing Linton in by grabbing the headrest in front and behind him. “What’s in the briefcase, specs?”

“Research,” Riddhi answered behind him. “Just research.”

“Andy, chill it,” Clara said, but the intrigue got the better of her. “Augmentation research?”

Linton shut his jaw, refusing to look either of them in the eye.

“I can say this,” Riddhi replied. “If you recover it, and bring us back to Blue Eyes alive, we will make sure you are rewarded spectacularly. Isn’t that right, Linton?”

“I’ll put in a good word,” Linton said. “So long as you do your jobs properly.”

“Oh yeah?” Clara said. “The research is that important?”

Linton fixed Clara with a cold gaze. “It will change the world.”