Chapter 598: Humans… here I co!
The stormy, snow-lashed night had finally passed. The land, already blanketed in white, now lay under a fresh layer of powder, glistening under the bright morning sun. The sunlight scattered across the snow, casting a thousand tiny sparkles like stars fallen to earth.
Across Canada, the Zombie Horde was on the move—converging from every direction, the air thick with a grim, murderous tension.
On the vast, snow-covered plains, a dense mass of figures stretched as far as the eye could see. The undead sward over hills and valleys, their low, guttural growls rising and falling like a tide of nace. At the front of this monstrous army strode a tall, terrifying figure—their leader, a female Zombie King.
She was lean and towering, her skeletal claws razor-sharp. Her tangled hair hung in matted strands, and her ashen face was the stuff of nightmares. But what truly made her stand out—what made even other zombies keep their distance—was her mouth. Or rather, mouths. The sides of her jaw had split open, revealing two rows of jagged, needle-like teeth and dark red gums that pulsed with hunger.
“Those damn Arican zombies made us co all this way,” she snarled, her voice a guttural rasp. “When the final battle cos, we’ll make them pay for it.”
This was Splitjaw, the Zombie King.
Behind her, one of her underlings let out a series of desperate howls, the sound raw with hunger.
“Boss! I’m starving…”
“Hold it together! We’re almost there!” Splitjaw snapped, though her own voice carried a note of frustration.
The journey had been brutal—long treks through frozen wilderness, snowstorms that buried entire paths, and barely any food to be found. It reminded her of the stories she’d heard about Bulldozer and Big Ears, the Arican zombie warlords who’d carved a bloody path north into Canada. They’d starved half the way too.
The horde behind her growled and snarled, their agitation growing. Hunger made them restless, and restlessness made them dangerous.
Just then, a group of zombies ca sprinting toward them from the distance, kicking up snow in their wake.
The one in front—a scrappy-looking lieutenant with wild eyes—was practically vibrating with excitent.
“Boss! I just ran into so humans!”
Splitjaw’s eyes narrowed, her expression shifting to one of suspicion.
“Humans? Out here?” she said, glancing around at the endless snow. “You sure? This place was a dead zone even before the world ended.”
“Yeah, I an… I think so. Maybe. Kinda?” the zombie stamred, nodding, then shaking his head.
Splitjaw’s face darkened. “What the hell does that even an—’kinda’?”
“Where are they now?” she demanded.
“They… ran,” the underling admitted, hesitating.
Splitjaw’s eyes flared with fury. She looked like she was about to slap him straight into a snowbank.
“You let them get away, and you still have the nerve to co report it to ?”
“No, no, wait! Don’t be mad, boss! I got sothing better out of it,” the zombie said quickly, waving his hands. “I tricked one of them into spilling where their camp is!”
Splitjaw paused, her anger cooling just a bit. “Camp?”
“Yeah! I swear it’s true. One of them let it slip while running off. Said their camp’s up on a mountain peak nearby. And get this—there’s over a hundred humans there!”
The surrounding zombies perked up instantly, their eyes gleaming with hunger. It was like telling a starving crowd there was an all-you-can-eat buffet just around the corner.
“Over a hundred humans? That’s a feast!”
“What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”
“Shouldn’t we tell the other Zombie Kings first?”
“Are you stupid? If we tell them, there won’t be anything left for us!”
“Good point…”
The chatter grew louder, more frenzied. The scent of prey had lit a fire in their dead hearts.
Splitjaw felt it too—that rush of anticipation. Her claws twitched. Her split jaws flexed.
Screw waiting. They’d hunt first, then et up with Lord Malcolm later.
“Alright, boys,” she growled, her voice rising above the din. “Follow . We’ve got prey to kill!”
“Raaaargh—!”
With Splitjaw’s command, the entire horde erupted in a chorus of roars.
The heavy, oppressive mood from before vanished in an instant, replaced by a surge of excitent and bloodlust.
“We’re really going to hunt humans?!”
“Damn, I knew following the boss would pay off—this is the jackpot!”
“Hell yeah!”
Without hesitation, the massive horde shifted direction, surging toward the nearby mountain range like a tidal wave of death.
Fifty thousand strong, this force under Splitjaw’s command was no small faction—it was one of Lord Malcolm’s most formidable arms. They thundered across the pristine snow, leaving behind a chaotic trail of churned-up slush and filth.
Led by the eager zombie lieutenant, they reached the base of a towering snow-covered mountain about an hour later. The elevation here was high, and the wind cut like knives.
“This is it,” the lieutenant said, pointing upward. “According to what that human let slip, their camp’s up there.”
Splitjaw narrowed her eyes, scanning the mountain. “Hiding up high, huh? Gotta admit, not a bad spot.”
It was true—few zombies could make it this far up. But Splitjaw’s sharp gaze caught sothing: scattered trash near the base, faint traces of human scent. Leftovers tossed down by the Awakener team from Genesis Biotech, no doubt.
“Let’s storm the place!” one of the zombies behind her howled.
Several elite undead imdiately leapt onto the rocky slope, scrambling upward like monstrous spiders. The scent of fresh, living flesh had driven them into a frenzy—they couldn’t wait any longer. They clawed and climbed, screeching as they surged toward the summit.
“Humans… here I co!”
But what they didn’t know was that beneath the snow-covered surface, the mountain was riddled with tunnels—dug deep and wide, crisscrossing like a hidden labyrinth.
Inside one of those tunnels, Big Ears and a few other zombies were lounging around, bored out of their minds.
The mountain was just too damn tall. Layers of ice and frozen soil made digging a nightmare. Even with Big Chompers’ expert tunneling skills, they hadn’t made much progress.
And since the summit was cramped and crowded, Ethan hadn’t brought them along for the assault. He didn’t want them getting in the way.
“Guess there aren’t any real human powerhouses up there,” Big Ears muttered, trying to comfort himself. “Boss didn’t even need us.”
Shrimpy nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, yeah. Who throws out their trump card at the start? You gotta save the big guns for the endga.”
“I think the base of the mountain’s more important anyway,” Locomotive chid in, trying to sound strategic. “We’re the core defense.”
“Totally agree,” Mist added, nodding solemnly.
The four of them were clearly just killing ti, talking nonsense to keep from going stir-crazy.
Not far away, Big Chompers blinked his beady little eyes, glancing between them. Sothing about their logic didn’t sit right with him.
As the four zombies continued their “deep” discussion, Big Chompers suddenly cut in, his voice surprisingly sincere.
“Honestly… even if you guys went up there, you wouldn’t be much help.”
Dead silence.
The air in the tunnel went still. You could hear a snowflake drop.
All four zombies slowly turned their heads toward Big Chompers, eyes narrowing.
A long pause.
Then—SMACK!
Big Ears slapped him hard on the head.
“Why you always gotta run your mouth, huh? You think if you stay quiet, we’ll forget you exist?”
“You always say I bully you, but I swear, you’ve got a face that just begs for a beating…”
Shrimpy waved dismissively. “Forget it, Big Ears. This guy’s barely evolved. All he knows is digging. Don’t waste your breath.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Big Ears nodded, still glaring.
But then—his oversized ears twitched.
He froze.
Sothing had caught his attention.
He pressed one ear to the tunnel wall, listening intently.
Voices. Movent. The sound of claws scraping against ice and rock.
Splitjaw and her horde had arrived at the mountain’s base. Their growls, their chatter, the sound of them scaling the slope—it all echoed faintly through the earth.
Big Ears pulled back, eyes gleaming.
“Knew it. I told you guarding the base was important…”
…
Here’s a redemption code for everyone:
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