Chapter 14: Blood in the Streets

  The alley was dark and narrow, littered with debris and the broken bodies of long-dead infected. Sam’s lungs burned as he ran, his boots smming against the pavement, Carter and Grace right behind him.

  Behind them, gunfire and screams filled the night as Marcus’s men fought—and lost—against the hulking monster that had ambushed them.

  Sam didn’t look back.

  Didn’t want to see.

  All that mattered was getting away.

  They burst out onto the main road, their sudden movement kicking up dust and old papers that fluttered in the wind. The city was silent, but only for a moment.

  Then, from the darkness, the infected howled.

  It was like the explosion at the depot had woken up the entire city.

  Sam cursed under his breath. “We need to find cover. Fast.”

  Carter’s breathing was bored. “There,” he said, pointing toward an abandoned diner across the street. Its front windows were shattered, the inside barely visible in the dim moonlight.

  Grace didn’t hesitate. She sprinted forward, rifle at the ready.

  They followed, weaving between abandoned cars and rotting corpses, their footsteps echoing through the empty streets.

  Sam reached the diner’s entrance first, ducking through the broken doorway.

  Inside, the air was thick with dust and decay.

  Old booths were overturned, ptes of rotted food still sitting on the tables. The stench of death and mildew clung to everything.

  Sam pressed himself against the wall, gripping his bat tightly. Carter and Grace followed, panting, their faces slick with sweat.

  Outside, the infected swarmed the streets, drawn to the sounds of chaos.

  Grace peeked through a crack in the wall. “They’re everywhere.”

  Sam forced himself to breathe, gripping his knees. His heart was still hammering from the chase.

  Carter checked his shotgun. “We’re pinned down. They’ll catch our scent soon.”

  Sam wiped sweat from his forehead. Think.

  They had two options:

  1. Stay put and wait for the horde to pass.

  2. Find another way out before they surrounded the building.

  Neither choice felt great.

  Then a new problem made itself known.

  A voice.

  “Hello?”

  Sam whipped around, raising his bat.

  A girl—maybe sixteen or seventeen—stood near the back of the diner, her hands raised cautiously.

  Her clothes were torn, her face smeared with dirt. She had a hunting knife strapped to her thigh and a backpack slung over one shoulder.

  Sam blinked. “Who the hell are you?”

  The girl took a slow step forward, eyes flicking between them. “I—” She hesitated. “I heard the gunfire. Thought you might need help.”

  Carter narrowed his eyes. “Or you thought we had supplies.”

  She didn’t deny it.

  Sam exhaled, gncing at Grace. She was tense, her finger hovering over her rifle’s trigger.

  “Name,” Grace said ftly.

  The girl hesitated, then: “Lena.”

  Sam studied her. She looked tired, but not weak. There was something sharp about her—like she’d been surviving on her own for a while.

  “Lena,” Carter said. “You alone?”

  A pause. Then a nod.

  “Bullshit,” Grace muttered.

  Lena’s jaw tightened. “I don’t have time to convince you. If we stay here, we’re dead.”

  Sam sighed, rubbing his temple. He already had too many problems—a new stranger wasn’t helping.

  But she was right.

  Outside, the infected were gathering. The sound of shuffling feet and guttural growls filled the air.

  Then—a loud THUD.

  Something smmed into the diner’s exterior wall.

  Sam’s breath caught.

  Then another THUD.

  Then another.

  The infected had found them.

  Nowhere Left to Run

  “Shit,” Carter hissed. “They’re coming.”

  Lena backed toward the kitchen, motioning for them to follow. “There’s a way out. Through the basement.”

  Grace gred. “You could be leading us into a trap.”

  Lena rolled her eyes. “Fine. Stay here and die.”

  Sam didn’t hesitate. “Let’s go.”

  They rushed through the kitchen, stepping over old, rotting food and shattered ptes.

  At the back was a heavy metal door with an old chain looped through the handle.

  Lena pulled a key from her pocket and unlocked it.

  Carter raised an eyebrow. “You knew this was here?”

  She didn’t answer.

  Sam didn’t care. The infected were already tearing through the front of the diner, their growls echoing off the walls.

  Lena pushed the door open, revealing a narrow staircase leading down into darkness.

  “No other way,” she said.

  They descended fast, closing the door behind them.

  The basement was cold and damp, the walls lined with old food storage shelves and rusted appliances. A single flickering ntern sat on a wooden crate, casting eerie shadows.

  Sam’s stomach twisted. “Lena, what is this pce?”

  She exhaled. “It was a hideout. A long time ago.”

  Grace crossed her arms. “For who?”

  Lena hesitated. Then, quietly:

  “My group.”

  Silence.

  Sam studied her. “What happened to them?”

  Lena’s hands tightened into fists.

  “They’re dead.”

  Carter muttered, “Figures.”

  Lena ignored him. “There’s a tunnel through the back. It leads to the sewer system. We can get out from there.”

  Sam sighed. Great. Sewers.

  Grace was still watching Lena with suspicion. “And you’re just… helping us? Out of the kindness of your heart?”

  Lena’s face hardened. “I need to get out of this city too. I figure we have a better shot together than alone.”

  Sam exchanged gnces with Carter and Grace. She wasn’t wrong.

  Then—a noise.

  A soft scraping sound.

  Sam tensed. Carter raised his shotgun.

  Then—a low growl.

  It came from the far side of the basement.

  In the dim light, something moved.

  A shape emerged from the shadows—slow, deliberate.

  At first, it looked like a normal infected. But then it stepped into the ntern’s glow.

  Sam’s stomach dropped.

  Its skin was peeled away in sections, revealing yers of wet muscle underneath. Its mouth was stitched shut, but dark, bck tendrils curled from the gaps, writhing unnaturally.

  Its eyes—milky white, but aware.

  Then—

  It moved.

  Fast.

  Straight toward them.

  Sam barely had time to shout before it lunged.

  Trapped Underground

  The creature smmed into Carter first, knocking him hard against the shelves.

  Grace fired—BANG! BANG!—but the bullets barely slowed it down.

  Lena dove for cover, yanking a knife from her belt.

  Sam swung his bat, aiming for the thing’s head—but it dodged, its movements too fast, too calcuted.

  Then it turned toward Sam.

  It tilted its head, studying him.

  Then it whispered.

  Not wor

  ds.

  Just a horrible, wet, rasping noise—like it was trying to speak, but couldn’t.

  Sam’s blood ran cold.

  This wasn’t a normal infected.

  It was something else.

  Something worse.

  And now?

  They were trapped with it.