The screams, the blood, the endless, relentless horde—they gnawed at her mind, a dark shadow creeping into every corner of her thoughts.
She felt a cold weight settle in her stomach, a stark reminder that nothing would ever feel safe again.
For the first ti since the outbreak, Karen understood the full scale of the disaster.
They might be safe for now, but out there, the world had ended.
And survival would demand more than just hiding in a bunker—it would demand courage, cunning, and a strength she wasn’t sure she possessed.
Karen kept scrolling through her feed, her thumb moving lazily across the screen as more and more horrific videos flashed by—screams, burning cars, people running for their lives.
Her chest felt tight. The world outside really was collapsing.
Then, suddenly, she froze. Her eyes widened slightly as she spotted sothing that didn’t fit the chaos she had seen so far.
"Wait... look at this. Have you ever seen anything like it?" Karen said, her voice sharp with disbelief as she called out to her sisters.
Chelsea and Lea exchanged quick glances before hurrying over.
Karen held up the phone so they could see the video more clearly.
The footage was shaky, taken from soone’s smartphone, but what it captured was unbelievable.
In the middle of a wide street, surrounded by hundreds of zombies, stood a lone man.
He wasn’t ard—not with a gun or even a bat—but with his fists.
His movents were fierce and precise.
Every punch and kick landed with bone-crushing force, sending the undead sprawling backward in heaps.
The crowd of zombies tried to swarm him, but he moved with inhuman speed, dodging, striking, and weaving between them like a predator among prey.
"Oh my God..." Chelsea whispered, her eyes glued to the screen. "He’s fighting them... barehanded?"
"Look at how strong he is," Lea said, stunned. "He’s taking them down like they’re nothing. But... he’s bleeding. Look—on his arms."
The cara zood in shakily, and they saw deep gashes and bite marks across the man’s forearms.
He should have fallen, should have been dead or turned already, yet he kept moving, faster and fiercer with every passing second.
His face was sared with blood, his clothes torn to shreds, but there was sothing terrifyingly resolute in his eyes.
"Who is he?" Chelsea breathed. "No one should be able to do that."
"I don’t know," Karen murmured. "He’s like a one-man army..." Her voice trailed off as she continued to watch, transfixed.
The video continued for several long minutes.
Zombies lunged from every direction, and though the man was clearly exhausted, he didn’t back down.
At one point, he grabbed a zombie by the neck and slamd it straight into the pavent with a force that cracked the concrete.
Blood splattered the cara lens, and the person filming gasped in shock.
Lea placed a hand over her mouth.
"He’s going to die out there."
But he didn’t. Instead, he suddenly broke through the horde, sprinting down the ruined street.
The person behind the cara followed him briefly, capturing his silhouette as he vanished between the burning cars and broken streetlights.
Then the video cut off.
For a mont, none of the sisters spoke.
The silence was thick, heavy with disbelief and a strange, lingering awe.
Karen finally broke it, her tone steady but thoughtful. "We should tell Ross about this."
"Yeah," Chelsea said softly. "If anyone would understand what’s going on... it’s him."
Lea nodded, still staring at the frozen fra of the man’s retreating figure. "Maybe he’ll know who that is."
Karen looked down at the phone again. Her fingers hovered over the replay button, but she hesitated.
"Let’s go find Ross," she said quietly. "He needs to see this." She finally decided to be proactive.
As the three of them turned and walked toward the corridor that led deeper into the bunker, the echoes of laughter and chatter around them faded.
Outside, the world was falling apart—but deep down, a new, unsettling thought stirred in Karen’s mind.
If that man could fight like that... if he could survive all that... then maybe he wasn’t just soone.
Maybe he was sothing else entirely.
***
A few hours later, Ross finally appeared once more.
The chatter in the large underground hall imdiately began to fade.
Even before he spoke, everyone could feel the change in the air — the quiet authority, the weight he carried.
"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" a child’s voice called out joyfully from near the front.
Ross turned his head slightly, and his stern features softened.
"I’ll be right there, sweetheart," he said gently, raising a hand. "Just give a minute, okay?"
The little girl smiled and nodded, clutching her mother’s leg as she looked up at him with admiration.
Ross then stepped forward, his footsteps echoing faintly across the hall.
The lights flickered slightly above, their hum filling the silence that had settled over the room.
He stopped near the front, his gaze sweeping over the crowd — n, won, and children — all waiting for him to speak.
"I know," he began slowly, his deep voice carrying easily through the hall, "that most of you have already seen what’s happening out there. You’ve watched the chaos. The news, the social dia posts... the things crawling through the streets."
A ripple of unease spread through the crowd. No one needed reminding.
The horrors outside were impossible to forget.
Ross continued, "It seems that not only have the dead begun to walk, but sothing else — sothing unexpected — has co with them."
He raised his hand and snapped his fingers.
A mont later, one of the screens on the far wall flickered to life.
Static filled it for a second before resolving into a shaky video feed.
"This was recorded earlier today," Ross said quietly.
The image stabilized, showing a man sitting in front of a cara, his face streaked with gri and dried blood.
The background behind him was the ruins of what looked like a small town — burned buildings, shattered glass, and a sky filled with smoke.
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