C10 Survive the Siege!

"Roar!"

The first flash of lightning was followed by a thunderous roar that set the zombies off. They began to howl uncontrollably, their movements growing more aggressive and wild.

"Bang! Bang!"

Loud crashes echoed from below as the zombies, reminiscent of a previous stormy night, went into a frenzy. The only thought their decayed brains could process was that food was upstairs!

One by one, the zombies relentlessly battered every part of the building. Their frenzied pounding continued unabated, only ceasing if their heads were destroyed. Willett watched as some zombies' heads burst from the impact, only for two or three more to take their place, relentlessly assaulting the structure.

Despite being made of reinforced concrete, the building couldn't withstand the relentless onslaught. In under ten minutes, it began to sway, and the ceiling started shedding layers of plaster.

"Damn, this is insane. It's like a human demolition crew! Were these zombies part of a demolition team before they died? They're still hell-bent on destruction in death!" Willett swore as he dashed into the bedroom, grabbed his backpack, and armed himself, ready to make his escape.

By the time he reached the rooftop, the building's tremors had intensified. He had never imagined that the zombies' madness could be so destructive as to bring down a building. Thankfully, though the lightning had driven them into a frenzy, the thunder drowned out their heightened hearing, allowing him a safer escape from the sea of corpses.

Gasping for air, Willett clambered onto Welborn's rooftop. His heavy breathing was due to the intense anxiety, not exhaustion. The building was shaking so violently it seemed on the brink of collapse.

"Boom!"

A sudden loud noise made him whip around. His family's five-story house, after enduring the relentless efforts of countless zombies, had finally given way, collapsing into rubble. The zombies within were crushed into a pulp, their purple-black blood mixing with the rainwater to form a small stream.

"Shit! My house! I will never stand with the zombies!"

Willett cursed furiously, his anger palpable as he watched the home his parents had worked so hard to build reduced to nothing but debris.

In that moment, there wasn't time to consider anything else; as long as he was alive, there was hope. Willett grabbed a wooden plank from the ground, wielded his knife in his right hand, and secured the short spear on top of his backpack before charging downstairs.

"Damn, there's a whole sea of zombies!"

Willett muttered as he deftly sliced a zombie blocking his path in half with his sharp machete. The zombies had been gathering around his house for days, and several had even made their way into Tucker's home. He had already taken down eleven zombies, and he was only on the third floor.

Peering down the staircase, Willett saw that Tucker's place was swarming with zombies too—there were at least twenty on the lower floors. He was sure he could take them out, but it would be a drain on both time and energy. His house's collapse had taken out many zombies, but still, thousands remained, refusing to disperse. It was a race against time; he needed to escape before they realized he was there and formed a complete encirclement. Otherwise, being surrounded by thousands of zombies would render him helpless, no matter what he did.

Reaching the third-floor window, Willett looked down. Thankfully, there were fewer zombies toward the inner street, maybe just twenty or thirty, and the residential buildings weren't too tall—the third floor was only about six meters high. With his enhanced physique, jumping down shouldn't pose a problem. Without hesitation, he climbed to the window ledge, aimed for an open space below, and leaped.

"Damn!"

Mid-jump, Willett's heart sank as he spotted a zombie charging out from a dark corner below, positioning itself right where he was set to land.

"Thud!"

He landed—safely! Willett made intimate contact with the zombie, plunging into its foul embrace. Luckily, his weight combined with his heavy backpack made him a veritable human bomb, and with the force of his fall, he flattened the zombie beneath him into a pancake—a stroke of luck amidst misfortune.

"Ugh!"

Despite his numerous close-quarters battles with zombies, Willett had never experienced such proximity. The sight of the reeking zombie fluids and dark, purplish blood covering him was enough to turn even his seasoned stomach.

Willett sprang to his feet, his eyes scanning the zombies that had been drawn by the noise. Without a second thought, he slung his backpack over his shoulder and made a break for it. He remembered a corner in the backstreets that led to a broader avenue. Seizing the opportunity while the zombies from the main street were distracted by his house, he risked it all and dashed towards his uncle's place.

His uncle resided in the most upscale district at the heart of the city center, having made a fortune in the construction materials business. He had purchased a fine residence in an upscale neighborhood. Despite knowing that heading to the city center was akin to a death wish, Willett couldn't bear the thought of fleeing Depridge for safety without checking on his uncle. He felt compelled to see for himself how his uncle was faring, regardless of the risks.

Willett bolted down the alley ahead and rounded the corner onto the main road. Even though he had seen the chaos through his binoculars countless times, witnessing it in person was still shocking. The once spacious road was cluttered with abandoned cars, each empty and marked with telltale bloodstains of the catastrophe that had unfolded. Knowing how to drive was one thing, but navigating through this mess was impossible; running on foot was his best bet.

As he made his way, Willett encountered a scattering of zombies but swiftly bypassed them, unwilling to squander precious time on these soulless husks. His plan was to hit the supermarket first. With the zombies momentarily elsewhere, he needed to quickly find a suitable vehicle, like a mountain bike or an electric scooter, to conserve his energy for the lengthy journey to the city center and any unforeseen challenges. A motorcycle would have been ideal, but with Depridge's long-standing ban on them, that option was off the table.

Approaching the supermarket, a bone-chilling sensation crept into Willett's core, causing his skin to crawl. He had the unnerving feeling that he was being watched.