Tommy approached the Minks’ van, the asphalt black and silent beneath his feet.

As he neared, the stench hit him—a miasma of death and decay that clawed at the back of his throat.

Inside, the van’s guts were laid bare in disarray. Instruments lay scattered. The space where Kim had been quarantined was now a void.

A pang of loss twinged in his chest, not just for Kim, but for the semblance of life the instruments once represented.

He reached out to right an overturned guitar, its neck cracked, its strings limp. “Smells like the grave.”

Roxy leaned against the van’s frame, her arms folded across her chest. “We should’ve never let her stay back here alone, not like this.”

Tommy nodded. “We thought we were doing the best for her…for all of us.” He glanced at Roxy, her features drawn tight. “We need to find her. We can’t just leave her out there, not knowing.”

Roxy’s eyes met his. “Then we find her,” she said, pushing away from the van. “Let’s just hope to hell she’s still…” Her voice trailed off, leaving the unsaid words hanging between them. “She’s gone. Kim’s gone.”

“It’s like she evaporated,” Spike said, peering into the murky glass of the van’s rear window.

“This isn’t good,” Dee said. “Not good at all.”

Tommy scanned the others’ faces, their expressions tight with a dread that twisted his insides. “Alright, listen up. We’re not splitting up, we’re not getting sloppy. We move as one, and we find Kim. Eyes open, stay sharp.”

“Bad idea.” Laila’s expression hardened as she stepped forward. “She can’t have gone far, not on her own. We should spread out in small groups. Do a quick sweep of the area.”

Tommy nodded. “Alright. But we shouldn’t be alone. We need to have each other’s back, alright?”

They branched out into two groups, feet crunching over debris. Shattered glass littered the lot, reflecting back the pallid light.

Tommy let his instincts lead, Roxy and Zero close behind.

The bushes at the edge of the lot bore the scars of a struggle— branches snapped, leaves trampled, a path of disruption in the otherwise untouched foliage.

The grip on his bat tightened with each step.

“Kim?” Roxy’s voice cracked the silence.

“Here.” Tommy stopped and gestured to a discarded bandage, stained with darkening blood. Boot prints staggered and swirled in disarray.

“Over here,” Roxy said, her voice low and urgent.

Tommy’s pulse hammered in his ears as they stepped through the bushes.

But as they emerged into the clearing, they found nothing.

“We’ll keep looking,” Tommy said. “We’ll find her. We owe her that much.”

They pressed on. And after a minute or so, Roxy stopped and held up a hand, her head tilted to one side.

Tommy joined her. “What is it?”

“Shh!”

A soft rustling came through the trees.

A collective pause, a shared intake of breath, and then the sound came again.

Tommy exchanged a glance with Roxy and Zero, and Zero gave a silent nod towards the movement.

Amid the dense growth, a shadowy figure sat huddled, poking something on the ground.

“Kim?” Roxy’s mouth gaped as Kim turned to them, the remains of a crow hanging from her mouth.

Tommy met those milky eyes and his throat turned dry.

Roxy’s hand flew to her mouth, and Zero’s expression hardened.

Kim’s skin, once the colour of warm life, was now a sickly pallor. She gazed emptily at the group.

The change was undeniable—she was one of them.

Tommy stood frozen.

Zero stepped forward, his eyes hard, his rifle drawn.

Tommy glared. “What are you doing, Zero?”

“There ain’t another way. This is it. This is what we do, what we have to do.”

Roxy shoved him aside. “Come on, there’s got to be something we can…we can’t just…”

Zero held his rifle firm. “But we can. She’s gone. What’s left ain’t Kim. It’s a walking corpse.”

“She’s one of us,” Tommy said. “We don’t just give up on our own.”

“No.” Zero’s voice came out in a flat tone. “She’s one of them.”

“We can’t rush this. There’s no coming back from this, Zero.”

“Back from what?” Laila’s voice cut through the tension, Micky, Spike, Dee, and Jimbo close behind.

Tommy gestured towards Kim. “She’s turned. And Zero wants to take her out.”

Laila looked between Zero and Kim. “Ain’t no way I’m going to let you shoot her.”

Zero sniffed. “You speak like she’s still alive. She’s gone and that thing is a danger to us.”

“I’m with Zero,” Spike said. “She said if she turned this is what she wanted. For us to survive, to not…not end up like that.”

“What if it were me?” Micky gestured to Kim. “Would you do the same, just leave me to be that?”

Zero’s jaw clenched. “If it gets to that, yeah. It’s what any of us would have to do.”

The crease on Laila’s brow deepened. “What if there’s a cure, or something? Some way to…”

“To what? Turn her back?” Zero shook his head. “This ain’t a fairy tale. There ain’t no magic kiss to wake her up.”

Kim rose to her feet, a groan erupting from within.

The crow’s remains tumbled from her mouth.

She stepped forward, her movements disjointed, jerky.

A single shot rang out through the trees.

Kim fell, a marionette with severed strings.

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Time stuttered.

Everyone stood motionless.

Laila’s eyes met Tommy’s, but neither of them spoke.

Roxy stared down at Kim lying face-first in the dirt. “Is she…”

Zero gave a single nod. “It’s over.”

Roxy whirled on him, fury etched across her face. “You didn’t have to do that! We could have helped her, we could have…” Her voice broke and tears rolled down her cheeks.

Zero lowered the rifle, his jaw set. “There was no helping her. She was already gone.” He gestured to Kim. “That wasn’t Kim anymore and you all know it. I did what had to be done.”

“By murdering her?” Roxy shot back. “She deserved better than that.”

“Yeah? And what about what we deserve?” Zero’s nostrils flared. “Or does our safety not matter anymore?”

“Of course it matters,” Tommy said. “But we’re family. We don’t just give up on each other.”

Zero let out a hollow laugh. “Family? Is that what you think we are?” He shook his head. “I’m looking to survive. That thing.” He nudged Kim’s body with his boot. “Would have ripped us all apart given the chance.”

Tommy’s hands curled into fists. He moved towards Zero but Laila grabbed his arm, holding him back.

“Arguing won’t help anything now,” she said. “What’s done is done.”

Tommy wrenched his arm free. “Yeah, Zero murdered Kim. That’s what’s done.”

Zero sneered. “Get off your high horse. I did what I had to do to survive. Not all of us can afford your precious morals.”

“Maybe we should keep moving,” Spike said. “The gunshot was loud. It might attract more of them.”

A guttural moan echoed through the trees, followed by the sounds of snapping twigs and rustling underbrush.

Everyone froze, exchanging alarmed glances.

Zero hefted his rifle. “Just more to put down. I’m not afraid to do what needs doing.”

Spike grabbed his arm. “Don’t be stupid, man. There could be dozens of them out there. Save your ammo.”

More moans filtered between the trees, seeming to come from multiple directions.

Tommy pointed towards the parking lot. “Back to the vans, now!”

They took off running, stumbling over the uneven ground.

The moans grew louder behind them, mixed with the sounds of pursuit.

“Go, go!” Tommy crashed through the underbrush, branches whipping against his face.

Risking a glance back, he saw the zombies shambling after them.

Beside him, Roxy slipped on a mossy log and went down with a cry.

Tommy skidded to a stop and hauled her to her feet, just as a zombie lurched from the bushes towards them.

Gripping his bat, Tommy swung with all his might, the crack of the impact ringing through the woods.

The zombie collapsed, its skull caved in.

“Come on!” Tommy pulled Roxy along as they sprinted to catch up with the others.

Just ahead, Spike gave a strangled shout as gnarled hands grasped at his jacket from behind a tree.

Laila rushed to his aid, plunging her tyre-iron into the zombie’s eye socket, black ichor spurting.

The group ran on, the snarls of the undead horde at their heels.

Tommy broke through the tree-line into the parking lot.

But between them and the vans staggered at least a dozen zombies, blank white eyes turning towards them.

“We gotta fight through!” Tommy shouted. “Watch each other’s backs! We get to the vans no matter what!”

With cries of effort and determination, they charged into the shambling mob, weapons swinging.

Tommy smashed in head after head, the crunch of bone, the splatter of rot.

All around him, band mates battled for their lives.

A zombie latched onto Dee’s arm.

Micky slammed a shoulder into its ribs, sending it sprawling.

Another grabbed Jimbo’s leg.

Roxy darted in and hacked at the zombie’s wrist with her machete, severing its hand.

But for every zombie they took down, more seemed to arrive.

Tommy bashed a path to the lead van’s door. “Get inside, hurry!”

One by one they scrambled in, Jimbo bleeding from his mouth.

Tommy vaulted into the driver’s seat last and gunned the engine.

“Floor it!” Laila said.

The van’s tyres spun, kicking up gravel as they shot forward.

In the side mirror, Tommy glimpsed another cluster of zombies break from the treeline.

They staggered after the vehicles, but quickly fell behind, disappearing as the convoy sped away.

He turned to Jimbo in the back. “What happened to your mouth? You haven’t been—”

“No, dude.” Jimbo raised his hands. “Got smacked in the mouth by a thorn bush or something.” He wiped the blood with a sleeve. “Damn it, that stings.”

Laila dragged a tissue from the glovebox. “Here.”

Jimbo dabbed his mouth. “Thanks.”

They drove without speaking, putting as much distance between themselves and the supermarket as possible.

The reality of the situation—Kim dead by Zero’s hand, the group once again fleeing into the unknown—threatened to overwhelm him.

He pushed it down. They needed leadership now more than ever. And there was no way he’d let Zero take charge.

After fifteen tense minutes, Tommy cleared his throat. “We should pull over soon, figure out our next move.”

Jimbo’s eyes stayed fixed on the road. “Where? Those things are everywhere.”

“I know…it’s Kim, man. I can’t get her out of my head, you know?”

Jimbo leaned forward. “What choice did he have, Tommy? Kim was one of them. That wasn’t Kim anymore.”

Laila sniffed. “And what if there’s a cure out there? What if we just need to hold on, keep them secure until then?”

Jimbo spread his hands. “I don’t know, dude. There’s so much we don’t know about any of this. We just gotta keep on keeping on, you know? And maybe that means we look out for the living until this whole thing’s done with.”

“But what if they’re still in there, somewhere? Aware, feeling... trapped?” Her question hung between them.

The thought twisted in Tommy’s mind. He hadn’t allowed himself to dwell on the possibility, the notion that each one they put down might be a prison of flesh, holding a consciousness screaming for release.

Laila sighed. “This isn’t just about survival anymore. It’s about who we are…who we become in the face of all this.”

The silence returned.

Jimbo looked down, his hands clasped between his knees. “Maybe Zero did us a mercy…maybe he spared her from becoming a monster in her own mind.”

Micky leaned back, his gaze distant. “It’s messed up, isn’t it? We’re fighting to stay alive, but what are we doing to keep hold of who we are?”

Tommy didn’t have the answers. He stared ahead, focusing on the road.

The empty highway stretched before them, a grey ribbon cutting through the landscape. Tommy’s fingers tapped on the steering wheel as he drove, keeping pace with the beat of his racing heart.

Beside him, Laila stared from the passenger window, her forehead resting against the glass. The horrors they had witnessed that day had taken a toll on her. He could see it in the hard set of her jaw, the tension in her shoulders, the haunted look in her eyes when she thought no one was watching.

In the back, Micky slumped in his seat. Every now and then his leg would bounce with nervous energy before settling again. Jimbo kept craning his neck to peer behind them, as if expecting the nightmares to come at any moment.

They were musicians, not warriors. It wasn’t fair. But the universe didn’t care about fair.

“How much longer until we stop?” Micky asked, breaking the tension.

Tommy shrugged. “Maybe sixty miles.”

Micky sighed. “I just wanna rest up somewhere, man. I’m sick of having to bash in zombie skulls. Is that too much to ask?”

Laila turned from the window. “We need to move forward together, not start questioning each other.”

“We’re still a long way from Philly,” Tommy said.

“Yeah, dudes,” Jimbo said. “Chin up and spirits high, yeah?”

Micky nodded.

The van roared down the empty highway. The stench of death and decay hung thick in the air despite their speed.

Looking out the window, he could see shuffling figures dotting the landscape—lone zombies wandering aimlessly or feasting on long-dead remains.

His mind drifted to images of Niamh and Sean. How long had it been since he’d spoken to them? Were they still alive?

He tried to push the thoughts from his mind and focus on the road ahead. Just get back to Philly. That’s all that mattered.

Rounding a bend, Tommy slammed the brakes as a mass of zombies swarmed the road. Rotting bodies packed together, oblivious to the van barrelling towards them.

“Bloody hell!” Jimbo gripped Tommy’s headrest. “Where’d they all come from?”

“There’s…there’s thousands of them,” Laila whispered.

Micky slumped back. “We’re screwed. Totally screwed.”

Jimbo elbowed him. “Stow it with the doom and gloom crap. We’ll get out of this. Tommy knows what he’s doing. Don’t you, Tommy?”

What could he say? The odds of fighting their way through a horde that size were zero. But giving up wasn’t an option. Not yet. They had to keep trying, had to keep moving.

“Hold on.” Tommy slammed his foot on the accelerator and the van surged forward.

The speedometer needle swept past 80 mph, 90 mph as the van rattled and shook violently.

Jimbo whooped. “Go, baby, go!”

Tommy yanked the wheel to the left, barely avoiding an overturned trailer.

“There’s too many of them!” Laila shrieked, her gaze sweeping across the undead horde ahead of them.

“Just keep driving, don’t stop!” Micky said.

The horde was a churning sea of gnashing teeth and grasping arms, threatening to overwhelm them if they slowed even for a moment.

Tommy jerked the wheel hard to the right, tyres screeching in protest as he took the off-ramp at breakneck speed.

“Hold on tight!”

Tommy yanked the wheel to the left and the van bumped up over the curb, rumbling back up over the grassy embankment to rejoin the highway.

When the other vans appeared in the side mirror behind them, Tommy let out a breath. “How’re you holding up back there?”

“We’re all good,” Jimbo said. “Looks like everyone broke through.”

“Micky?”

“I’m fine. Head hurts. But I’m fine.”

Tommy tapped Laila’s arm. “You okay?”

She turned towards him, her eyes bleary with exhaustion. “I’ll make it. We don’t have a choice.”

He nodded.

They lapsed back into watchful silence.

Eventually, Laila’s head started drooping.

“Get some sleep,” Tommy said. “I can keep going.”

She mumbled in protest but her eyes were already closing. Within minutes she was slumped against the window, breathing slowly in deep sleep.

They were alive. They were together. For now, at least, that was enough.

After a while, Jimbo opened the map on his knees and traced a long route towards the east coast with a finger.

“What you thinking?” Tommy asked.

Jimbo gave a wry smile. “How you at blackjack?”

Tommy frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Looks like we’re headed to Reno.”