Chapter 4: The City of the Dead

  The night stretched over the city like a bck veil, smothering what little hope remained. Fires burned in the distance, sending columns of smoke twisting into the sky. The screams had begun to die down, repced by an eerie silence, broken only by the distant groans of the infected.

  Sam stood on the rooftop, gripping his bat, his heart pounding against his ribs.

  Trey crouched beside him, scanning the streets below. “We need to move before sunrise. The dead get more active during the day. Something about the noise, the light… draws them out.”

  Sam swallowed hard. “You’ve dealt with this before?”

  Trey exhaled, eyes dark. “Yeah. Afghanistan. Different kind of enemy, but the rules are the same: Stay quiet. Stay low. And never fight if you don’t have to.”

  Sam nodded, gripping the bat tighter. He wasn’t a soldier. Just a guy who had woken up in a nightmare.

  But he had to survive. He had to find Riley.

  The Pn

  The rooftop spanned three connected buildings. If they moved carefully, they could get a few blocks closer without touching the streets. Trey pointed toward a distant high-rise.

  “There’s an old hardware store at the corner of Seventh and Main. We stop there first—grab supplies, maybe a weapon better than that bat. After that, we figure out our next move.”

  Sam hesitated. He wanted to argue, to say that they should head straight for his sister. But he knew Trey was right. Running blind into the chaos was suicide.

  He nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  Trey led the way, moving across the rooftops with practiced ease. Sam followed, his sneakers skidding slightly on the gravel surface. Every step felt too loud, every movement a risk.

  Then—metal groaned beneath his feet.

  The fire escape ahead of them sagged under its own weight, rusted and barely holding together. Trey tested it with his boot. “Damn thing’s about to fall apart,” he muttered. He turned to Sam. “We’ll have to jump the gap.”

  Sam’s stomach twisted. The next rooftop was at least eight feet away. Not an impossible jump, but one wrong step meant a three-story drop onto the pavement below.

  Trey went first. He took a few steps back, sprinted forward, and leaped. His boots smmed onto the rooftop, his knees bending to absorb the impact. He turned back, motioning to Sam.

  Sam’s palms were sweaty. He backed up, inhaled deeply, then ran.

  His foot hit the edge of the roof, and for a split second, he was weightless.

  Then—impact. His knee hit the ground hard, but he made it.

  Trey offered a hand, pulling him up. “Not bad,” he said. “You do track or something?”

  Sam shook his head. “Just pyed baseball.”

  Trey chuckled. “That’ll work.”

  The Hardware Store

  By the time they reached Seventh and Main, the streets below were even worse. Dozens of infected shuffled between the abandoned cars, their heads twitching at every distant noise.

  The hardware store sat at the corner, its front door wide open. That wasn’t a good sign.

  Trey motioned for silence, then led the way down a fire escape. Sam followed, gripping the bat so tight his knuckles ached.

  They slipped through the broken doorway, stepping over shattered gss. The inside of the store was ransacked—empty shelves, broken registers, blood smeared across the floor.

  Sam moved cautiously toward the aisles, his heartbeat hammering. “What exactly are we looking for?”

  Trey knelt by a fallen shelf, shifting through the mess. “Anything useful. Knives, rope, a crowbar if we’re lucky.”

  Sam turned a corner—and nearly tripped over a body.

  He stumbled back, his breath catching in his throat. The man on the ground was already dead—his face pale, his throat torn open.

  But something was wrong.

  The blood was fresh.

  Then, a sound.

  A slow, shuddering breath.

  Sam’s head snapped toward the back of the store. A figure was hunched over, its back to him. At first, he thought it was another body—until it twitched.

  The thing turned.

  Its face was half-rotted, its jaw unhinged, blood dripping from its lips. The infected let out a low, wet growl—and lunged.

  Sam swung the bat on instinct. CRACK. The wood connected with the thing’s skull, sending it staggering back. But it didn’t stop.

  Trey cursed, pulling his crowbar free. “Headshots only!” he barked.

  The infected lunged again. Sam swung harder this time. The bat struck its temple with a sickening crunch. The skull caved in. The thing dropped.

  Panting, Sam stumbled back, chest heaving.

  Trey cpped him on the shoulder. “You hesitated,” he said. “Next time, don’t.”

  Sam swallowed, nodding.

  Trey went back to looting. He pulled out a hunting knife, a length of rope, and—miraculously—a revolver. He checked the chamber. “Two bullets. Not much, but better than nothing.”

  Sam took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. His hands were still shaking.

  Then a noise from outside made them both freeze.

  A scream.

  A woman’s scream.

  Sam’s stomach clenched. His mind fshed to Riley.

  He ran to the window, looking out.

  A woman was trapped in a crashed car, hammering on the window as infected swarmed around her. She had a deep cut on her forehead, blood dripping into her eyes.

  Trey grabbed his arm. “Don’t.”

  “She’s alive!” Sam hissed.

  “She’s as good as dead,” Trey shot back. “We go out there, we’re next.”

  Sam’s jaw tightened. Every instinct screamed at him to help.

  Then the woman locked eyes with him.

  For a split second, she saw him. And he saw the sheer, desperate terror in her face.

  She pounded on the gss. “Please!”

  Sam’s grip on the bat tightened.

  Then the infected swarmed the car, dragging her out. Her screams turned into something worse.

  Sam turned away, his stomach twisting.

  Trey put a hand on his shoulder. “We can’t save everyone, kid.”

  Sam stared at the blood pooling in the street, his throat tight.

  Then he whispered, “I’m not leaving my sister.”

  Trey sighed. “Then let’s make sure we don’t end up like her.”

  Sam clenched his fists.

  He didn’t know if Riley was still alive. But as long as there was a chance, he wasn’t giving up.

  Not now. Not ever.