Ron raced through the narrow back alley of New Haven City, dragging Imani along with him, their legs struggling to find enough strength to continue running after seeing that abominable creature. Ron clutched his rifle tightly, his breath coming in ragged gasps, and his heart pounded in his ears as he sprinted. He stumbled, narrowly avoiding shooting himself as he tried to maintain his footing. Ron and Imani crashed to the hard asphalt, scanning the back alley for any sign of danger amidst the shadows and the chaos of the urban jungle.

That ‘thing’ had been chasing their rear end just moments ago, but now there was no trace of the massive creature. Ron's heart sank, realizing zombies were not the only thing he needed to worry about in the midst of the zombie-infested city. And to be fair, he thought that ‘thing’ was also a zombie in a way. A mass of several zombies patched up together like a botch Frankenstein and he was not going to face it.

The stench of the zombies filled Ron's nostrils as he cautiously rose to his feet, his senses on high alert. He could hear distant moans of what sounded like a couple of those infected to his right, but he knew better than to rush towards it without a plan. A strong force suddenly brought him to glance to the side. Imani was by his side, their hands interlocking together. She was heaving for her breath as she must be terrified after seeing that ‘thing’.

“Hey, you okay? Are you hurt?” Ron asked.

She shook her head. The only audible thing from her mouth was her harsh panting. She was dragged along in his escapade and now the weight of responsibility bore down on him as he tried to formulate a plan.

An empty soda was kicked, and Ron spun around, rifle at the ready, eyes scanning the figures that were just a few feet away from him. Their strides brought them closer and their teeth were coming for him. Yellow, bloody teeth with pieces of human flesh and entrails stuck in between, and the owners, the zombies raced for more.

"Shit," said Ron as he shouldered his rifle. They were coming in fast and he had to make a decision. Cursing inside, Ron took a quick shot at the approaching zombies, trying to gun them down in the face. Missing a few and luckily ended some. But with the blasting gunshot echoing in the alley, more were coming. He threw his eyes around, searching for a way out of this.

“Behind!” Imani shouted as another zombie came lunging from the other side.

The zombies to close in on him at any moment. He scrambled up, breathing hard, his heart pounding in his chest. Ron reacted quickly, swinging the butt of his rifle at its head with all his strength, smashing its skull and sending it sprawling to the ground. He grabbed Imani's hand and pulled her behind him. Shielding her as he gave a few shots in the zombie’s head.

Ron quickly assessed the situation. He knew he needed to find a place to hide from these relentless zombies before their numbers overwhelmed them. He spotted a door not far from where he was.

“Run to that red door!” he said. Imani didn’t hesitate and ran. Ron covered fire, spewing bullets at these relentless zombies, taking them down to the ground while more were drawn in by the loud noise.

Ron's heart pounded in his chest as he pulled the trigger of his rifle, only to hear the hollow click of an empty magazine. He cursed under his breath, realizing he had run out of ammunition at the worst possible moment. Without missing a beat, he made a split-second decision. Rather than wasting time reloading in the same spot, he dashed towards Imani, who was struggling to open a door for them to escape.

"Step aside!" Ron roared at Imani, his voice filled with urgency. He swiftly drew the gun from his side holster and took aim at the doorknob, which was the only thing standing between them and safety. He fired at point-blank range, the gunshot echoing through the desolate streets of New York City. The doorknob shattered into pieces, and the door swung open, providing them with an escape route.

Ron didn't waste a moment, pushing Imani from behind and charging through the now-open door. “Guard the door,” he said. Ignoring her immediately as his adrenaline-fueled movements were swift and calculated, navigating to the rooms on the sides with his gun in hand. He found what he was looking for and called out for Imani. She ran over and saw Ron pushing a gas stove over.

"Help me with this," he urged, sweat trickling down his forehead. They both braced themselves, gripping the sides of the gas stove tightly. With a synchronized effort, they heaved it forward, toppling it over to block the door. The heavy appliance scraped across the floor, creating a makeshift barricade. The moans and groans of the hungry zombies grew louder, their insistent scratching and pounding on the door sending chills down Ron's spine.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

With adrenaline pumping through their veins, they continued to press against the gas stove, their muscles straining as they fought to hold the line against the relentless force of the undead.

But a shadow figure rushed at them from within the bowel of this building. Ron's instincts kicked in, and he raised his gun with practiced precision. His finger tightened on the trigger, and a shot rang out, hitting the figure square between the eyes. It crumpled to the ground, motionless. But it was just the beginning. The noise had alerted the other inhabitants of the building, and more shadowy shapes began to converge on Ron and Imani.

“Keep the door close!” Ron shouted.

Imani, her eyes wide with fear, used every ounce of her strength to press her body against the gas stove, bracing against the onslaught of the undead trying to break in. Her heart pounded in her chest as she felt the relentless force of their desperate attempts to gain entry, the cold metal of the stove pressing against her back.

At the same time, Ron's hands moved with practiced speed as he expertly reloaded his empty rifle, his eyes never leaving the door. He could hear Imani's labored breaths, and his mind raced with the gravity of the situation. He knew that a single moment of hesitation could be fatal. With a resounding click, the rifle was loaded, and Ron raised it to his shoulder, his eyes narrowing as he took aim at the first zombie that emerged into this hallway.

He squeezed the trigger, and the shot pierced through the air, hitting its mark. The creature stumbled back, momentarily stunned, but Ron was not stopping. He rained bullets at the undead and the moment its brain shattered by one of the bullets, it dropped on the floor.

But it was not the end. The sound of frantic footsteps echoed from above, growing louder and closer with each passing moment. Ron's grip on his firearm tightened, his senses heightened. He kept his eyes fixed on the opening, ready to react at a moment's notice. But when the figure finally emerged, Ron's heart sank.

A small figure appeared at the far end of the hallway, moving with unnatural speed. Ron's heart sank as he realized it was not just any zombie, but a child, no older than ten years old. Blood smeared around its mouth, a haunting sight that sent a chill down Ron's spine. It had clearly feasted on another human being, turning them into yet another creature of the undead.

Ron's mind raced, conflicted with the moral dilemma of facing a child-turned-zombie. He knew he had to defend himself and Imani, but the sight before him was heart-wrenching. He took a step back, his instincts warring with his emotions.

But it had to be done. The shot rang out, and the child zombie crumpled to the ground, lifeless. Ron's chest tightened with a mixture of relief and sadness as he watched the small form slump to the floor. He knew this was the harsh reality of the world they now lived in, where even the innocent were not spared.

“Hey,” Ron handed over his bag to Imani. “Fill it up with any food you can find. I’ll hold the door for a while.”

Imani did as told and by the time she was back, the bag was full to the brim. If it wasn’t for his various equipment, the bag could have been filled up with more food supplies.

"We're going up," Ron said, his voice low but resolute. He led the way, taking the stairs two at a time, his senses on high alert. His mind raced, calculating their options and scanning for any signs of danger. They reached the top floor, and Ron quickly assessed the layout. He motioned for Imani to follow him, and they moved swiftly.

They reached the master bedroom, and Ron wasted no time in securing the door, reinforcing it with a heavy dresser pushed against it. It would buy them precious moments if the creatures managed to breach the lower floors. He ransacked the closet and found a backpack for hiking. He threw it on the floor and glanced at Imani. “Half the food supplies in each bag,” Ron said. He proceeded to check the bathroom and see if the water still work.

The water flowed without a hitch. For now, this was their best hiding spot, but Ron knew it wouldn't last forever. He would have to come up with a plan, and soon. Since a bigger danger loomed closer with each passing second. He had to kill that humanoid invader if he wanted to stay alive at the end of this whole situation.

"We're hunkering down here for now," he said. Imani nodded, her face grim, as she wordlessly went about her tasks, carefully dividing the supplies they had scavenged between their bags.

As Ron headed to the door, grabbing the doorknob. Imani usual composed demeanor cracked, and she spoke up, her voice filled with urgency. "Wait," she called out, catching Ron's attention. "Are you leaving?”

“For a while,” Ron said. “I still need to find the bastard who did all this.”

“Will you return?”

“I will,” Ron said. “But if I don’t come back, stay here and keep quiet. I’m sure the First Heroes will come and save the day.”

The mention of the First Heroes made Imani’s face contorted. She returned to her calm face. Gazing at Ron's clear eyes. “If you are so sure that the Heroes will come then why bother hunting for that monster?”

Ron could not tell her the truth. She would freak out in despair if he said their deaths were imminent if they let things stand as they were.

“It’s what a hero does,” Ron said, shedding a weak smile. “We try to save the day.”