"We're not going," Dominic said calmly, holding Louisa back. "We came here to help Theresa, remember?" "You people… You're heartless!" Orren snapped, but Dominic's words had already deflated his anger. He wanted to save them—he really did. In times like this, if he could bring even two survivors back alive, that would be a real accomplishment. Arwen and Solan would finally look at him differently. He wouldn't just be that useless tag-along living under their protection. But if he had to go alone? The thought made him falter. That was when he heard it—another scream, sharper and more desperate than before. "Help us!" The girl, maybe twelve or thirteen, had tripped by the railway tracks. Her mother stopped, turned back to pull her up—just as a zombie lunged at them from behind. The two tumbled across the gravel and wooden ties, scrambling to dodge the creature. Somehow, they rolled out of reach, stumbling forward in sheer panic, half-running, half-crawling for their lives. Everyone in the car could see it now. Without help, those two wouldn't last another ten seconds. Then, the car door swung open. From the passenger seat, Orren bolted out."Orren!" "Orren!" Everyone inside shouted at once, panic flooding their voices. They couldn't risk saving anyone—but Orren was Solan's brother-in-law. If something happened to him, Solan would definitely come for them. "What do we do now? If he gets himself killed, Arwen's going to come after us," Flora said nervously. "Forget it—let's help him," Dominic replied. The moment the words left his mouth, the roof hatch slid open. Dominic and Louisa fired flaming arrows into the sea of zombies ahead. Miles slammed the engine into gear, and the vehicle lurched forward, barreling toward Orren and the mother and daughter to back them up. Low, guttural growls rippled through the air, mixing with deep, bone-chilling howls that echoed through the ruins. Meanwhile, Theresa had already reached the underground parking garage. Her speed-type ability was pushed to its limit; Quentin clung to her back, serving as her human shield as she tore through the swarming dead. She finally spotted Professor K's old glass lab. Inside—piles of equipment and supplies. No time to sort, no time to think. She took everything. Even the dog's bed and toys were scooped up in one swift sweep. By the time she finished, the horde she'd drawn in had flooded the garage. The place, already cramped, was now packed wall-to-wall with zombies.Theresa spread her Aeroshield, forcing out a shimmering barrier that carved out a narrow bubble of safety around her. But the more the horde pressed in, the more her mind power drained to keep the shield stable. They closed in by the dozens—then the hundreds—ring after ring of twisted, staggering corpses. So many that just looking at them made her scalp prickle. Deep, guttural noises rippled through the dark—wet, rasping snarls and low, animalistic howls that seemed to vibrate in the air. "Louisa, drop the bombs!" Theresa shouted into her earpiece. Her voice crackled through the comms, the message spreading fast. She'd already pictured this moment. Entering the city meant one thing—being swarmed by an ocean of the dead. This city had once held over three million people. Now, it was a graveyard, and every one of them had risen. She couldn't kill that many zombies. Not all of them. So, she couldn't afford to get trapped in a fight. Even with her strength, against three million of those things, one mistake meant certain death. Quick in, quick out—grab the supplies and get the hell out. That was the only smart move. As her command went out, Theresa pushed forward, forcing her way through the horde while keeping her Aeroshield up. One second.Two seconds. Three seconds. But the explosion she was expecting never came. A sharp, throaty roar cut through the chaos. From the mound of corpses ahead, a mutated zombie burst out—one with mental manipulation abilities. It slammed into her Aeroshield like a wrecking tank. The shield shuddered violently under the hit—because that creature was striking her not just with brute strength, but with raw mind power. The zombie wore a torn yellow delivery uniform, its helmet hanging crookedly off the back of its head. Its skull was grotesquely swollen—far larger than a normal zombie's. A massive tumor bulged from its forehead, glistening with pus. Smaller boils clustered around it in uneven strings, like the slimy nodules of a deep-sea anglerfish. Its bulging eyes had been squeezed right out of their sockets, dangling at the edge of its distorted face. The poor delivery guy had once been human. Now, he was something beyond ugly—something that shouldn't even exist. A guttural roar ripped through its throat. The creature opened its gaping, blood-slick mouth, its milky eyes trembling, threatening to drop from their sockets as it pounded and clawed at Theresa's Aeroshield in a frenzy. Each strike made the barrier shudder—and the vibrations felt so close it was as if the blows were landing right on Theresa's scalp. She'd never felt anything like it. A mental manipulation zombie.Level 5. Stronger—even—than the undead dean she'd come across at the school.