At night, the junkyard was a bleak wasteland, with rusted metal scraps and abandoned vehicles strewn across the vast expanse. The sole light came from a few distant streetlights, which created spooky shadows across the rubbish piles.

There was a distinct sense of danger in the air as Roger, Katina, Labda, and Cilla approached the warehouse where Zombie Donnie was hiding. The terrain was uneven and filled with jagged debris, making each step crunch noisily. The sound reverberated throughout the vacant yard, alerting any potential enemies to their presence.

Other than their footsteps, the only sound was the distant howling of stray dogs, which added to the ominous atmosphere.

Cilla jumped in surprise when a stray cat rushed across their path. "This place gives me the creeps," she sighed.

"Stay alert," Roger said, his hand on his gun holster. "We don't know what we're walking into."

As they reached the warehouse, they noticed that the entrance was guarded by two goblin thugs who were smoking and casually chatting. They looked at the cops warily as they approached, but said nothing.

"Excuse me, we're looking for Zombie Donnie," Roger explained as he flashed his badge.

The goblins laughed. "What makes you think he's here?"

"We have grounds to suspect he's inside." Katina remarked this while standing up and staring them in the eyes.

The goblins shook their heads, still smoking. "Okay, go ahead. But keep an eye on yourselves. Donnie is not to be trifled with."

The cops nodded and proceeded to enter the warehouse through a creaky metal door. Inside, they discovered a dimly lighted, chaotic area packed with stacked crates and cartons. The air smelled musty and thick of oil and gasoline.

Shuffling and mumbling could be heard from deeper within the warehouse. As they moved closer cautiously, they noticed a bunch of zombie motorcyclists crowded around a table, playing cards and sipping beer.

Donnie Zombie sat at the head of the table, a fat cigar in his mouth. His head was a skull topped with a black mohawk. Red eyes gleamed in his empty eye sockets, and he, like his other members, wore a black leather jacket.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

As the cops approached, he narrowed his eyes. "What the hell do you want?" he exclaimed.

"We're here to talk about the angel's blood," Roger stated emphatically.

Zombie Donnie smirked. "Never heard of it."

"Don't play dumb," Labda said. "We know you were supposed to deliver it to someone."

The commander of the undead biker gang laughed. "What if I was? What does it mean to you?"

"We need to know who you were supposed to deliver it to," Katina continued, her weapon in hand.

Zombie Donnie rose to his feet, towering over his group. "You don't frighten me, three-headed lady. Do you believe you can just walk in here and demand answers?"

The zombie bikers all stood up at once, cracking their knuckles and baring their teeth. The cops stiffened up, bracing themselves for a battle.

But before anything could happen, there was a gunshot. The zombie bikers all froze and looked around, perplexed. Another shot was fired, and another.

They cautiously peered out the windows and saw a swarm of sirens coming.

"Looks like backup is on the way," Roger smirked.

As they retreated out of the warehouse, the zombie motorcyclists scowled at them.

“Damnit! They're escaping!" Katina yelled.

As the cops departed the warehouse, their hearts pounded with adrenaline as they dashed towards their truck. The noise of Zombie Donnie's motorcycles speeding away from the other side of the junkyard could be heard.

"Get in the back," Roger yelled to his teammates. "I'll drive."

Roger jumped into the driver's seat, fired the engine, and sped away as the three clambered into the truck bed. They quickly caught up to the biker gang, swerving in and out of traffic on the busy motorway. The undead motorcyclists pulled out firearms and began firing at the truck.

"Keep your heads down!" Katina yelled as bullets flew by.

Labda leaned over the side and retaliated, killing a couple riders in the process. Cilla drew a canister of gas from her rucksack and flung it towards the gang. The canister detonated, engulfing one of the bikes and sending the rider flying.

The chase lasted many minutes until they caught up with Zombie Donnie, who was leading the gang. Roger swerved the truck and used it as a battering ram, knocking the remaining motorcyclists off their bikes. They collided and landed on the pavement.

The vehicle squealed to a halt in front of Zombie Donnie, who revved his motor and prepared to charge. Roger leapt from the driver's seat and dashed towards the motorcycle. Before Zombie Donnie could pull the trigger on his shotgun, Labda hurled her knife, slicing off the biker's hand holding the rifle.

Roger collided with Zombie Donnie, and the two rolled across the ground in a hail of punches and kicks. The Cerberus partners entered the fight, taking on the remaining members of the biker gang. The fight was heated, but the suspect eventually gave up.

Roger stood up, his face covered with blood and sweat, and stared down at Zombie Donnie, who was defeated and laying on the ground.

"Who hired you to deliver the angel's blood?" Roger enquired.

Zombie Donnie spat blood and stared at the officer. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play dumb," Katina snarled. "We know you've got the blood. Give up."

Donnie Zombie grimaced anxiously. "I don't have the blood vial," he confessed. "It was taken from me by the Ironhoof gang. I swear I have no idea where it is now."

Roger took a step forward, his face solemn. "You'd better get started telling us everything you know about the Ironhoof gang and their leader, Dancer."

Donnie shifted uneasily. "They congregate inside a cave in Garden of Eden Park. They are, however, heavily armed and dangerous. You're not going to be able to defeat them on your own."

"We'll see," Katina responded calmly and confidently. "We've fought against centaurs before."

Labda shook her head as the cops returned to their police truck. "This case just keeps getting more complicated," she commented.

Cilla agreed with a nod. "But, at the very least, we're getting closer to finding the vial and the person who wants it."

They stepped into the vehicle, and Roger started the motor, driving back to the police station to brief Chief Rosetta on their findings. They also needed to sleep for the night.