The jagged peaks of the Rockies jutted above them, the narrow winding road barely visible against the sheer mountainsides.

Tommy squinted out through the dusty windshield, hands clenched tight on the wheel as he navigated a cliffside turn.

Laila shifted beside him, one hand pressed against the dashboard as she peered from the window. “You sure this route was the best call? We could topple into a ravine and no one would ever find us.”

“Yeah, it’s risky,” Tommy said. “But we gotta take the back ways to avoid the worst of the dead-heads.”

Jimbo snorted from the backseat. “Fat lot of good that does us if we plunge to our deaths instead.”

Static crackled over the walkie-talkie. “T, you read me?”

Tommy grabbed for the radio. “Loud and clear, Nix. What’s up, man?”

“We need to pull over. Zero says we need to reassess our route. The terrain’s worse than we thought. We keep burning fuel at this pace, we'll be walking before Idaho.”

Tommy chewed his lip. They couldn’t afford delays. “Alright, next clearing, we’ll stop to talk strategy.”

He caught Laila side-eyeing him. “We don’t have time for this. We need to be past this before dark.”

“I know.” Tommy sighed. “But we gotta be smart. No use getting stranded up here, easy pickings for the first horde that wanders by.”

Up ahead, the road widened into a small turnout nestled against the mountains. Tommy pulled in and killed the engine. The others gathered as he spread his worn map over the hood.

Roxy joined him and jabbed at the tangle of back roads. “If we keep on this route through the high passes, we’ll burn through our fuel. We should backtrack, take the interstate.”

Tommy shook his head. “Too risky. I don’t fancy running into any more robbers on I-70. We’d be sitting ducks.”

“So what, we just drive off a cliff instead?” Laila threw up her hands.

“There’s got to be another way,” Nix said.

Micky peered over Tommy’s shoulder, tracing possible routes with his finger. “What about this road here, cuts through the valley? Looks mostly flat, could shave time off too.”

Tommy considered it. “Alright, let’s give it a try. But we got no room for error. Everyone stays sharp.”

Murmurs of assent all around. They piled back into the vans.

Tommy revved the engine, casting a wary glance at the darkening sky. The winds had picked up, carrying a biting chill that seeped into the van. As they set off again, following the new route Micky had suggested, the first flakes of snow began to fall, swirling all around them.

The road ahead was less treacherous but no less daunting, snaking through the valley. The snowfall thickened, blanketing the landscape in a silent, ghostly white.

Laila pulled her coat tighter around her. “I hate snow,” she muttered, her breath fogging the glass.

The radio crackled again, Zero's voice barely audible over the static. “Visibility’s getting bad. We should consider stopping until this lets up.”

Tommy's grip tightened on the wheel. "If we stop now, we lose precious time. We push on."

The snowfall grew into a blizzard, the world outside reduced to a blur of white. Tommy strained to see the road.

As they drove, wind shrieked around them, lashing the vans as they crawled along the mountain pass.

Tommy clenched the wheel, tension etched into every line of his body. Squinting into the blizzard, he struggled to keep them on the precarious road.

Laila leaned forward. “We can’t keep going like this, Tommy.” She snatched up the radio. “Guys, we need to find shelter till the storm breaks.”

“Copy that,” Nix said through the radio. “See any place we can hole up ahead?”

Tommy scanned the snow-swept slopes and shook his head. “There’s nothing.”

“Down there.” Laila pointed to a road just visible through the snow.

He turned them down the narrow drive. The Minks’ van crawled in behind.

Killing the engine, Tommy stared at the swirling flakes.

“Alright, let’s hustle,” Jimbo said, tugging his collar up against the chill. “Storm’s only getting worse.”

Tommy’s gaze lifted to the surrounding peaks, obscured behind veils of snow. Somewhere out there, he knew the dead still roamed.

“Remember that blizzard outside Fargo?” Micky said. “Never thought I’d be caught up in snow banks again.”

Laila scowled into her scarf. “Let’s just pray this one doesn’t trap us here.”

The wind screamed through the pass, kicking up a blinding swirl of snow.

Tommy could barely make out the dim outline of the other van pulled up beside them.

"Well, I guess we're stuck here for a while," Micky said, breaking the silence.

"I hate this,” Laila said.” Trapped god knows where while a blizzard rages outside."

"We shouldn't have stopped," Tommy muttered. "We need to keep pushing east."

Laila shook her head. "Not in this visibility. We'd drive right off a damn cliff."

Tommy stared out at the featureless white beyond the windshield. Somewhere in its depths, faint moans echoed between gusts of wind.

Laila tensed. "You hear that?"

"Just the wind playing tricks on us," Tommy said.

They sat listening to the storm whirling around them. The minutes crawled by at a glacial pace.

Micky rummaged under his seat and emerged with a bottle of whiskey. "Might as well settle in," he said, taking a swig. "Could be here a while."

"We can't afford ‘a while,’" Laila snapped. "We're burning precious fuel just sitting here. Every minute is a minute we don't make it through these damn mountains."

The storm showed no signs of letting up, but their idling vans became more vulnerable by the minute.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

“Let’s play a game,” Jimbo said. “I spy with my little eye, something beginning with 'S'.”

“Snow,” Micky said, not even bothering to look up from his hunched position.

“Damn, you got me.” Jimbo chuckled, but the laughter died in the cold air.

They shared a can of cold beans, eating more out of necessity than hunger.

The silence was heavy, punctuated only by the sound of the wind howling outside and the occasional crackle of the radio.

Jimbo took the can from Micky and downed the rest of the beans before tossing the can into the back. “At least if we freeze to death, we won’t have to worry about the dead-heads anymore, eh?”

Laila sighed deeply. “We should’ve stayed on the main roads.”

Tommy shook his head, his voice low. “No. That would've been a death sentence of another kind. This…this is just bad luck.”

He traced the snowflakes as they slammed against the glass, a relentless, hypnotic dance.

As the hours dragged on, the storm showed no signs of abating.

Fuel was running low, and the cold was seeping in, no matter how tightly they wrapped themselves in their coats and blankets.

Outside, the world was a blur of white, the storm a seemingly endless onslaught.

A sudden scream cut through the radio. “Zombies! Heading right for us!”

Tommy grabbed his bat and threw open the door, the frigid wind biting through his jacket.

He leapt out into knee-deep snow as the first zombies lurched through the blizzard.

Rotten faces turned toward him, gnashing teeth stained red.

He swung his bat in a wide arc, crushing the first zombie's skull with a sickening crunch. “One down. Twenty more to go.”

Laila was beside him in a flash, tyre-iron whistling through the air. "Fore!" She clubbed one clean off its feet, sending it flailing backwards into the snow.

More zombies descended, a shambling horde emerging from the swirling veil of white.

Roxy, Nix and Spike charged in, weapons at the ready.

Micky cracked a zombie across the jaw with a crowbar, knocking its head clean off in a spray of gore. The headless body staggered forward, arms grasping blindly. "Strike one, dead-head!" Another swing sent it crumpling.

Laila brained two at once, then stomped one's head into the snow.

"Come on, you dead freaks!" Tommy swung wildly, taking out zombis left and right. Behind the horde, he spied the snow-laden pines fringing the turnout. "Laila, the trees! Help me drive them that way."

Together they battered the zombies back toward the woods. Roxy caught on and joined them, wielding her machete.

"Timber!" Jimbo shouted as he shoulder-checked a zombie right into a pine trunk. It toppled backwards into the snow and lay still.

"Strike three, ya dead lugnut!" Micky bludgeoned one, then turned and walloped another. "Yer out!"

They pushed the horde further back until the trees hemmed them in. Then Tommy and Laila moved in sync, clubbing the zombies from both sides.

The snow-heavy branches crashed down, crushing flailing bodies.

Soon, at least twenty more bodies lay motionless.

The blizzard swirled around them, coating everything in a fresh layer of powdery white.

Laila dusted the snow off her gore-spattered jacket.

Micky leaned against a tree trunk catching his breath.

Nix trudged through the trampled snow. "Everyone still breathing?"

“I think we’re good.” Spike spat a wad of blood and wiped his split lip.

"Remind me not to get on your bad side," Jimbo said to Roxy as she shook brain matter off her machete.

Tommy did a quick head count. By some miracle, they'd all survived more or less intact. Around them, the storm continued to rage. “I guess that’s one way to get warm.”

"And here I thought the dead didn't like the cold," Micky said.

Roxy, Nix, and Spike trudged back through the snow toward their van.

They were halfway to the van when Spike stopped, raising a hand. "You hear that?"

Faint on the wind came the sound of guttural moans.

Roxy tensed, gripping her machete tighter. "More of them. And sounds like a lot more this time."

Forms appeared through the veils of snow—first a few, then a dozen, then what looked like an entire horde emerging from the trees.

Tommy gripped his bat tighter. "Alright everyone, looks like we're not done yet. Form a line and get ready."

He took position at the centre of their makeshift battle line in the snow, with Laila and Jimbo flanking him on either side. Micky stood beyond Jimbo, crowbar at the ready.

The zombies shambled toward them, some in ripped ski jackets and snow boots.

"Steady now…" Tommy said as the creatures drew nearer. He eyed the closest one, a male zombie in a torn puffer jacket.

When it came within reach Tommy swung his bat, feeling the crunch of breaking bone as the zombie's head exploded in a spray of blood and brain matter.

Laila cheered as she bashed in the next one's skull. Micky and Jimbo joined the fray, crushing and smashing the rotting horde with focused intensity.

"They just keep coming!" Micky yelled over the snarls and howls of the horde.

More emerged from the swirling snow, tripping over the piling corpses of their broken brethren.

Tommy grimaced as fetid blood and gore splattered his jacket. "Take them two at a time if you have to, just keep swinging!"

The horde pressed in around them.

Adrenaline fuelled Tommy's blows as he felled one zombie after another in quick succession.

Beside him Laila screamed in fury, cracking her tyre iron through a zombie's jaw with savage force. "This is like the world's worst snowball fight."

“Dude, you’re a genius!” Jimbo grabbed handfuls of snow, packing them into tight balls. "Hey dead-heads! Think fast!" He pelted two zombies in their faces. The snow exploded in puffs of white, momentarily blinding them.

"Good thinking!" Tommy called. "Use the snow, distract them."

Jimbo, Spike, Micky, and Nix set to work bombarding the zombies with volleys of snowballs while dodging grasping arms. The zombies snarled and flailed, decayed hands swiping at empty air.

Seizing the opening, Tommy and Laila moved in with their weapons swinging.

Laila smashed her tyre iron through one zombie's skull while Tommy crushed another with a cracking blow.

Roxy joined in, alternating between slicing zombies with her machete and nailing them in the face with snowballs.

The snow flew as the group tag-teamed the remaining zombies.

Snowballs pelted rotting flesh just before bats and tyre irons came crashing down.

"Finish them off!" Tommy smashed his bat across the temple of the nearest one while Laila brained the second to last with a final swing of her tyre iron.

Spike wound up and hurled one last snowball right between the eyes of the final walker. It teetered back before toppling face-first into the blood-speckled snow.

Roxy slashed her machete through its skull for good measure. "Strike! That's the game, bitches!"

Tommy wiped his bat on the snow, a small grin on his face. "Well, that was invigorating."

Laila nodded. "Nothing like a bit of exercise to warm you up."

Micky brushed the snow from his coat. "Let’s hope they don’t have more friends nearby"

Nix shook his head. "I'm just glad everyone's still standing."

"For a minute there I thought we were goners." Jimbo clapped Tommy on the back.

The snow had finally stopped falling, only occasional gusts of wind swirling the white powder now.

Tommy lowered his bat, surveying the scene. Bodies lay strewn about, the snow stained red in places. "I think that's the last of them.”

Laila let her tyre iron drop into the snow. "About time. My arms are killing me."

Micky stretched his back. "You said it. I'm gonna be sore for days after that workout."

Roxy glanced around. A grin crossed her face. She scooped up a handful of snow, packed it tight and let it fly, nailing Tommy on the forehead.

"Oh, you think that's funny, huh?" Tommy grabbed his own handful of snow and lobbed it at Roxy, catching her shoulder.

She retaliated, pelting him again.

"Snowball fight!" Jimbo joined in the barrage against Tommy.

Snowballs flew in all directions amidst laughter and shouts.

Laila got off a perfect shot that exploded against Micky's chest. "Bullseye! Eat snow, Micky!"

Spike slipped and face-planted into the snow, coming up with a mask of white.

Through cackling laughter, Nix lobbed snowballs rapid-fire, his throws going wide more often than not. "I never was much good at this."

Tommy dashed behind a tree to avoid being hit again. "Alright, I give up! No more!" But the snowballs kept coming.

After a few more freezing volleys, the snowball flurry finally died down. They were all dusted in white, breathless, flushed, and laughing.

"Haven't done that since I was a kid," Laila said, brushing snow from her hair.

From the van door, Zero gave a shout. "Hey kids, storm's blown over! We should hit the road before any more dead-heads show up."

His words were met with a fresh barrage of snowballs from all sides. "Oh no you don't.” Jimbo charged towards him. "You can't escape!"

Zero retreated into the van, one hand raised. “Seriously, children. We need to move out.”

Their laughter echoed off the mountainsides now that the winds had calmed. For a moment, it felt just like old times.

Tommy clasped Jimbo's shoulder, their breath fogging the air. "Come on, let's get moving. Zero's right, we shouldn't linger."

They clambered back into their respective vans, peeling off snow-soaked layers.

Laila shivered as she wrung melted snow out of her hair. “I hate blizzards. And I hate zombies. Put ‘em together and—"”

“You get a slushie of fun,” Jimbo said.

Over the radio, Nix’s voice cut through. "I’ve checked the scores and it looks like Roxy won the snowball fight. She gets the prize."

“What’s the prize?” Tommy asked.

“Honour, of course. You think we’ve got trophies to give out?”

Tommy smiled. “Well done, Rox. And good work everyone, we showed those dead bastards who not to mess with.”

“Damn straight,” Jimbo said. “And I haven’t had that much fun since the world went to crap.”

Tommy keyed the radio. "Alright gang, let’s blow this popsicle stand."

"You got it, T." Nix said.

Tommy started the engine, allowing it a minute to warm up before shifting into drive. Beside him, Laila pulled her scarf up over her nose, eyes gazing out at the snowy landscape ahead. "Let's hope the road stays clear,” she said. “I've had enough snowstorms and zombies to last me a lifetime."

"You and me both."