The rhythmic drumming of heavy rain brought Tommy from his sleep. He blinked and rubbed his eyes as he peered out at the water-streaked world.

Roxy leaned forward, squinting into the downpour. The wipers slashed back and forth, struggling to keep up with the deluge.

“Damn, it’s really coming down out there,” Tommy said. “Can hardly see a thing.”

“Just keep your eyes peeled,” Zero said, his gaze never leaving the road ahead. “Weather like this, it’s the perfect cover for an ambush.”

Tommy shifted in his seat, his muscles stiff. He glanced over at Laila, huddled against the window. “Hey. You okay?”

Laila startled at his words, blinking as if coming out of a daze. “Yeah, I’m just…I’m tired, Tommy. So damn tired.”

Tommy’s chest tightened at the weariness in her voice. He opened his mouth to respond, to offer some words of comfort or encouragement. But before he could speak, Roxy let out a sharp curse, slamming on the brakes.

The van lurched and skidded, hydroplaning before coming to a juddering halt.

“What the hell, Rox?” Zero braced himself against the dashboard.

“Look!” Roxy pointed through the windshield, her finger trembling.

Tommy leaned forward, squinting through the rain-streaked glass.

At first, he couldn’t make out anything beyond the grey curtain of water. But then, just visible through the downpour, was a seething mass of bodies.

Hundreds of them, maybe more, milling and shambling in the road ahead.

“Holy crap, dude,” Jimbo said. “That’s gotta be the biggest herd we’ve seen.”

Tommy swallowed hard. “We can’t go through that. We’ll never make it.”

“We’ll have to backtrack,” Zero said. “Find another way around.”

Roxy nodded, already throwing the van into reverse. But as she hit the gas, the engine revved and whined, the wheels spinning uselessly in the mud.

“Come on, come on.”

But it was no use. The van was stuck fast, mired in the soft, waterlogged earth.

“Damn it.” Zero slammed a fist against the dashboard. “We’re trapped.”

Tommy twisted in his seat, peering back the way they’d come.

The road behind them was gone, swallowed up by the rising waters.

The rain turned the highway into a churning river.

“We can’t go back. The road’s washed out.”

A heavy silence fell over the van, broken only by the drumming of the rain and the distant moans of the herd.

“So what do we do?” Laila asked. “We can’t just sit here and wait for them to find us.”

Tommy rubbed a hand over his face, his mind racing. “We need to draw them away. Create a distraction, lure them off the road so we can get through.”

Zero frowned. “And how exactly do you propose we do that, Tommy boy?”

Tommy held up a hand. “We use the storm to our advantage.”

Roxy cocked an eyebrow. “How do you figure?”

“Think about it. The rain, the wind, the thunder…it’s the perfect cover. We can draw them away from the road, and then use the storm to mask our escape.”

“That’s actually not a terrible idea,” Roxy said. “Dangerous as hell, but it might work.”

Laila shook her head. “I don’t like it. Too many things could go wrong.”

“You got a better plan?” Zero asked. “Because I’m all ears.”

Laila closed her eyes and shrugged.

“Alright then,” Tommy said. “Let’s do this before we lose the light completely.”

They gathered what they could from the van—flashlights, a few precious road flares. Anything that could cut through the rain.

Then, with a last shared look, they stepped out into the deluge.

Wind whipped at Tommy’s face, cold and sharp. In seconds, he was soaked through, his clothes plastered to his skin.

He squinted through the stinging rain, barely able to see more than a few feet ahead.

They fanned out along the highway’s edge, scavenging the derelict vehicles for anything that gleamed. Side mirrors, chrome fittings, CDs—they took it all, stuffing their pockets until they bulged.

As they worked, Tommy caught glimpses of Roxy and Zero binding rags and branches into makeshift human shapes.

He darted from car to car as the zombies’ moans carried on the wind.

“Tommy!” Roxy appeared at his side, rain streaming down her face. “We’re ready. Let’s move.”

He nodded, and together they crept forward, placing their assembled lures in a wide arc before the stalled van. The highway’s shoulder dropped away into a steep, wooded embankment, choked with underbrush. They worked their way down the slope, stabbing branches into the sodden earth to hold the decoys upright.

The zombies shuffled closer.

Tommy hardly dared to breathe as he adjusted a final dummy.

A hand clamped down on his shoulder and he nearly cried out. He spun to see Zero, crouched low, his finger to his lips.

Zero pointed back towards the road. Towards the idling van.

Tommy followed his gaze and his stomach dropped.

Another pack of zombies weaved between the abandoned cars.

And they were headed straight for the van.

A piercing scream tore through the rain.

Laila.

Tommy charged up the embankment, slipping and clawing at the mud.

Zero and Roxy pounded at his heels.

They crested the rise to find Jimbo on the van’s roof, his golf club whirling as he battered at the grasping hands clawing at him from all sides.

Laila fought next to him, delivering clubbing blows with her tyre iron..

The zombies swarmed the van, their fingernails screeching against the metal as they fought to reach their prey.

Tommy leapt forward with a hoarse shout, his bat connecting with the nearest zombie’s skull. He drove his foot into a knee joint, feeling it crumple.

All around him, the air sang with the wet smack of metal on flesh as the others laid into the monsters.

Roxy hacked in a frenzy of silver. Zero fired shots, taking zombies down..

“Get in the van!” Tommy swung his bat. “Move!”

Jimbo clambered down, using his golf club to clear a path. He wrenched the passenger door open and all but flung Laila inside. “Go, go!”

Tommy and the others fell back, forming a tight half-circle around the van.

The zombies pressed in, heedless of the blows that rained down.

A gnarled hand caught Tommy’s sleeve and he lashed out blindly, feeling his bat sink into something soft.

Behind him, the van’s engine coughed and sputtered. Then it roared to life.

“Tommy, come on!” Roxy reached back to seize his collar.

She hauled him backwards and he stumbled.

A zombie lunged, its jaws snapping inches from his face. He shoved it away, gagging on the stench of rot.

Another stooped to grasp at his legs and he drove the bat’s handle into its eye socket.

Roxy yanked him again and he fell backwards, sprawling onto the van’s rain-slicked floor.

“Drive!” Zero slammed the rear doors shut, twisting to brace his shoulders against them as the zombies threw themselves against the other side.

The wheel spun in the mud and the tyres screamed as Jimbo stamped on the gas.

They rocketed forward, ploughing through the zombies that tried to block their path.

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Bodies crunched under their wheels, bones snapping and skulls popping.

Gore sprayed up to coat the windows in blurred crimson streaks.

“Is…is everyone okay?” Laila asked.

“Still here,” Roxy said. “Zero?”

He made a grunt of affirmation.

Tommy just closed his eyes and let his head thunk back against the wall. His whole body ached, a bone-deep throb that spoke of new bruises layered over old.

Jimbo slammed on the brakes. “That wasn’t the main herd, dudes.”

Tommy’s eyes snapped open at Jimbo’s words. “What do you mean, that wasn’t the main herd?”

Jimbo pointed through the windshield, his hand shaking. “Look.”

Tommy leaned forward, following Jimbo’s gaze. At first, all he could see was the grey curtain of rain. But then, movement caught his eye. A shimmer, a ripple in the downpour.

And then the zombies came into view. Dozens, scores, hundreds—a seething, writhing mass of decaying flesh and grasping hands. They shambled up the highway towards them.

“Oh God,” Laila said. “There’s so many.”

Roxy’s hand found Tommy’s, her fingers icy and trembling. “What do we do?”

Tommy swallowed hard, his mind racing. They couldn’t stay in the van—it was a death trap, an easy target for the horde. But to abandon it, to flee into the storm…

“We run. We lead them away from the highway. It’s our only chance.”

Zero nodded. “Tommy’s right. We stay here, we’re dead.”

They gathered what weapons they could, Roxy’s machete. Zero’s rifle was empty, the last precious bullets spent in the melee. He slung it over his shoulder anyway, a grim set to his jaw.

Then, with a last shared look of desperate resolve, they threw open the van’s doors and spilled out into the rain.

The zombies were close now, close enough that Tommy could hear the wet rattle of their breath, could smell the sweet, sickly stench of decay. He hefted his bat, the wood slippery in his grip.

“This way!” He plunged into the wooded embankment, the others close on his heels.

Branches whipped at his face, snagging in his hair and clothes. Underbrush clutched at his ankles, almost dragging him down, the ground a slick morass of mud and rotting leaves.

Behind them, the zombies crashed through the woods. The storm seemed to spur them on, the howling wind and driving rain drowning out all other sound.

Tommy ran, slipping and staggering, half-blind in the deepening gloom, his lungs burning, his muscles screaming in protest.

But he couldn’t stop, couldn’t slow.

To falter now was to die.

Lightning speared the sky, throwing the forest into stark relief.

Thunder cracked a second later, so close it made his teeth ache.

A root caught Tommy’s foot and he went sprawling, the breath whooshing from his lungs as he hit the ground hard. His bat flew from his hand, vanishing into the undergrowth.

“Tommy!” Roxy’s scream cut through the storm. She skidded to a halt, whirling to face the oncoming horde.

Zero and Jimbo stopped too, forming a ragged line.

Tommy scrambled to his knees, his hands scrabbling in the muck for his lost weapon.

His fingers closed around a branch, rotten wood crumbling in his grip. He cast about desperately, panic clawing at his throat.

The zombies lurched closer, their moans rising.

Roxy slashed out with her machete, the blade hissing through the rain. It struck meat and bone, black blood spraying.

Zero wielded his empty rifle like a club, the butt cracking against skulls.

Jimbo shoved Laila behind him, then stepped forward with a wordless snarl.

And then the zombies were on them, a wave of clutching hands and snapping teeth.

Tommy rose to meet them empty-handed, his heart a jackhammer in his chest.

He lashed out with fists and feet, feeling skin split and bones shatter.

A zombie’s hand snagged his shirt and he twisted, using its own momentum to fling it into a tree.

Another’s jaws gaped inches from his throat and he rammed his knee into its chest, sending it staggering.

All around him, the others fought with desperate strength.

Zero swung his rifle in great, crushing sweeps, the stock smeared with gore.

Laila fought with a wild abandon, her tyre iron making pulp of rotting flesh.

Jimbo’s scream pierced the tumult, high and terrified. A zombie had broken through their line, its gnarled hands locked around his throat.

He thrashed and bucked, but its grip was iron.

Tommy charged forward, a roar tearing from his throat.

He crashed into the zombie, bearing it to the ground in a tangle of limbs. They rolled, a confusion of mud and snapping teeth.

Tommy ended up on top, his hands locked around its throat. He squeezed with all his strength, feeling cartilage crunch beneath his fingers.

The zombie thrashed, its jaws gaping, its breath a fetid wave. Tommy’s arms trembled with the effort of holding it down, his vision narrowing to a tunnel.

With a sickening crunch, its head lolled back, neck shattered.

Tommy released his grip, panting, his chest heaving. He looked up, blinking the rain from his eyes.

The others had formed a tight knot around him, a ring of battered bodies and dripping weapons. But the zombies pressed in from all sides, an inexorable tide of flesh.

“We can’t keep this up,” Zero said. “There’s too many of them.”

“We’ve got to make a break for it,” Roxy said. “Get back to the van.”

Tommy shook his head, struggling to his feet. “No. We have to lead them away.” He spotted his bat half-submerged in the mud, and hefted it.. “We keep moving. Draw them deeper into the woods.”

Jimbo let out a strained laugh. “Deeper? Dude, I can’t even see my own feet.”

Tommy gripped his bat tighter, rain streaming down his face.

Trees stood all around. The only light came from the fitful flashes of lightning.

But what choice did they have?

“Stay close. And if we get separated, head for high ground. Don’t stop moving.”

He plunged into the seething dark, the others crashing after him, their laboured breathing mingling with the rasp of the zombies and the pounding of the rain.

Mud sucked at his feet, threatening to drag him down with each step.

Branches whipped his face, drawing blood.

His world narrowed to the burn of his muscles, the fire in his lungs.

Behind him, the zombies came. An endless, relentless tide, their snarls and moans rising.

Time lost all meaning. There was only the next step, the next desperate gulp of air. The next flash of lightning, the next clap of thunder.

At some point, Tommy realised he could no longer hear the others. He was alone, running through shadows and rain. But still he didn’t slow, didn’t falter.

He ran through exhaustion, through pain. He ran until his vision blurred and his legs turned to rubber, until each breath was a serrated knife in his lungs.

He broke through the treeline and staggered to a halt, his hands braced on his knees as he gulped great lungfuls of air.

He was on a hilltop, the land falling away in a steep drop before him.

The storm still raged, the wind lashing the treetops below into a frenzy. But the rain had slackened, the lightning fading to distant flickers on the horizon.

He sank to his knees, his legs giving way.

Tommy closed his eyes, the rain mingling with the tears on his cheeks. “Please let them be okay.

But only the wind answered him.

Tommy stumbled to his feet, his legs trembling. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted into the wind. “Roxy! Zero! Jimbo! Laila! Can anyone hear me?”

His voice was swallowed by the storm, the words ripped away by the howling gale. He strained his ears, desperate for any sign of a response. But there was only the drumming of the rain, the creak of the trees, and the groans of the undead.

He tried again, louder this time. “Roxy! Zero! Jimbo! Laila! Where are you?”

Still nothing.

He couldn’t have lost them.

He refused to believe it.

They had to be out there somewhere, fighting their way through the storm, searching for him just as he searched for them.

He dug into his pockets, his numb fingers scrabbling for anything that might help. They closed around the smooth surface of a wing-mirror, the edge of a flashlight.

He dragged them from his pocket and flicked on the torch.

He tilted the mirror, angling it to catch the light.

Tommy waved it back and forth, sweeping the beam through the trees.

He kept at it, his arm aching with the effort. The rain pounded against his back, soaking through his already drenched clothes. His teeth chattered, his body shaking.

Out of the corner of his eye came a flicker of light. He whirled, the beam of his flashlight wavering.

Another flash, a glint of reflected light, winking at him from the depths of the forest.

“Tommy!” The shout was faint, almost lost beneath the wind.

“Roxy!” He screamed her name, his voice raw and desperate. “Roxy, I’m here!”

He raced down the hillside, slipping and skidding on the wet grass.

“Tommy! Where are you?”

“Here! I’m here!” He crashed through the underbrush. The beam of his flashlight danced wildly, illuminating brief snatches of rain-lashed foliage, glistening bark.

He saw them. Roxy, Zero, Jimbo, and Laila huddled together in a small clearing, their weapons clutched tight, their faces turned towards him.

He burst into the clearing. “I thought I’d lost you. I thought…”

“We’re here,” Laila said. “We’re okay.”

Zero clapped him on the shoulder. “We need to move.”

A moan drifted through the trees, low and guttural.

Tommy froze.

“Run.” Zero yanked Tommy’s sleeve. “Back to the highway. Move!”

They fled, crashing through the underbrush.

The moans grew louder, the wet snap of branches, the crunch of shambling feet.

Tommy pushed himself harder, faster, skidding onto the rain-slick asphalt of the highway, mere feet from the van.

“Get in!” Zero flung himself into the driver’s seat.

Tommy and the others piled into the back.

The doors slammed shut, muffling the moans of the oncoming horde.

The engine roared to life, the van lurching forward.

Zero stepped on the gas, tyres squealing.

They ploughed through the first rank of zombies, bodies crunching beneath the wheels.

But there were more, always more.

They surged around the van, an endless tide of grasping hands and gnashing teeth.

Zero swerved, the van fishtailing, metal screeching as rotting fists pounded against the sides.

“Watch out,” Roxy said. “You’re going too close to the shoulder.”

Zero growled through gritted teeth, wrestling with the wheel.

The van shuddered, the tyres spinning uselessly.

Zero slammed his fist on the steering wheel. “We’re stuck!”

Zombies pressed in from all sides, their hands clawing at the windows. The glass spiderwebbed under the onslaught.

“Gun it!” Roxy shouted. “Get us out of here!”

Zero snarled, pumping the gas. “I’m trying.”

The engine screamed, the whole van shaking with the force of it.

Tommy braced himself against the door.

The van surged back onto the road.

Zero fought for control, wrenching the wheel hard to the left.

They careened around an overturned truck, the bumper screeching against the rusted metal.

Tommy risked a glance behind them. The herd receded into the distance. But they were still coming, their moans carrying over the rain.

“Faster!” Tommy shouted. “We’ve got to get some distance between us and them!”

Zero rocketed down the abandoned highway. The wipers struggled to keep up with the pounding rain, the world beyond a blur of black and grey.

He wove between the abandoned cars, scraping past on sheer momentum.

Jimbo cursed as they sideswiped a hatchback, the impact jostling them in their seats.

The van hurtled down the highway, the storm raging around them. Tommy stared out the window, watching the landscape blur past, his mind numb, his body aching.

Roxy clambered into the passenger seat. “That was too close. Way too damn close.”

Jimbo nodded, his face drawn. “That was intense, dude.”

“We got lucky,” Zero said. “If Tommy hadn’t come up with that plan, if we hadn’t been able to distract them…”

Laila shivered, hugging herself. “I thought we were done for. I really did.”

Tommy swallowed. “We made it. That’s what counts.”

“This time,” Roxy said. “But what about the next? Or the one after that?”

“Rox has a point,” Zero said. “Who knows what else is waiting for us out there.”

“Indianapolis isn’t too far from here,” Jimbo said. “We need to find somewhere to stop.”

“We will,” Tommy said. “We’ve come this far, haven’t we?”

Zero nodded. “We need to be adaptable. That’s the key. We can’t afford to get caught flat-footed again.”

“Easier said than done,” Roxy said.

“Maybe. But it’s our only choice.”

Silence decended on the van. Tommy let his head fall back against the seat, his eyelids heavy.

“You did good back there, Tommy boy.” Zero said. “Kept your head on straight, came up with a plan. We need that.”

Tommy felt a flush of shame. “I almost didn’t.”

Jimbo leaned forward, his hand falling on Tommy’s shoulder. “Almost, dude. You stayed strong. That’s what counts.”

Tommy shook his head. “It’s hard, man. Harder than last time.”

“I know. Believe me, I know. But you’ve got to keep fighting. For Niamh, for Sean, for all of us.”

“Jimbo’s right,” Roxy said. “We need you, Tommy. We need you clear-headed and sharp.”

Tommy squeezed his eyes shut, fighting against the sudden sting of tears.

“I’ll help you,” Jimbo said. “I’ll keep an eye on you, make sure you stay on the straight and narrow. We’ll get you through this, dude. All the way to Philly.”

Tommy opened his eyes, meeting Jimbo’s gaze. “You’d do that?”

“Of course. It’s either that or having you getting drunk and rowdy.” He opened his hands. “Trust me, dude. This is purely selfish. I wanna get through this—we all do—and you being crap isn’t going to help anyone.”

Tommy nodded. “Okay. Okay, I’ll try.”

“You need to do more than try,” Zero said. “There’s too much at stake.”

Tommy looked down. “I know.”

“We should find a place to stop for the night. Somewhere defensible, where we can catch our breath.”

Tommy thought of Niamh and Sean, out there somewhere. Were they safe? Were they even still alive? The questions gnawed at him, a constant ache in his chest.

But he couldn’t afford to dwell on them, couldn’t let himself be consumed by the fear and the uncertainty. He had to stay focused, had to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

What else could he do?