"Stop talking about dying! With Theresa here, even giant zombies don't stand a chance!" Louisa's voice rang out, confident and fierce. Orren blinked at her in disbelief. "You're just trying to comfort me, huh? Fine by me. Go ahead and brag like you did in the truck before—I actually like hearing it." But before he could finish, his words froze in his throat. His eyes widened. His mouth fell open. Right before him, it was like watching twin suns rise at once. A wave of blazing fire roared into the sky, painting the world in red and gold. The heat surged forward like a living beast, and even in November, Orren swore the air temperature jumped a few degrees. He stood there, speechless, as flames filled the horizon. Solan was known as the strongest ability user in their camp. His wall of fire was legendary, unmatched, something that inspired awe in everyone who saw it. But compared to what he was seeing now—Solan's power looked pitifully small. At the heart of the inferno stood a tall, lean figure, her silhouette flickering in the raging light. That was Theresa's true strength. Orren couldn't help but recall the day before, when she'd smacked him around and called him an idiot. Back then, he thought she just looked down on him. Now he realized—she didn't need to look down on him. He simply wasn't worth the effort. "I told you before, Theresa's on another level," Louisa said, pride glowing in her eyes. Orren's face burned hot with shame. Every word he'd said before came back to slap him across the face—hard. "Theresa!" Dominic shouted. "The bridge's ready!" "Get in the truck!" Theresa called back, her voice sharp and commanding as she unleashed another wave of fire. At her order, Dominic's team sprinted for the vehicle. By now, a thick greenish poison mist was spreading toward the railroad tracks. In ten seconds, it would blanket everything. Miles jumped into the driver's seat, slammed his foot on the gas, and the armored car roared forward. The rest stayed behind, guarding the makeshift bridge of wooden planks they'd built. Everyone held their breath as the truck sped across. Ten seconds. Nine. Eight. The car almost reached the other end when a shriek tore through the air. A zombie burst from the pit below, its neck ripped open, its face a twisted mask of decay. It lunged upward like a fish breaking through the surface, smashing into the last plank. If it broke through, the truck would fall, trapping them all in the poison fog. Without a second's hesitation, Orren activated his speed-type ability and threw himself onto the plank. The armored car thundered forward and scraped right over his back. Louisa and the others gasped in horror. Orren was lucky. The chassis was high enough. He lived. Barely. But before anyone could even breathe a sigh of relief, the zombie rammed through the board. Its half-crushed skull popped up beside Orren like a grotesque puppet. Its mouth gaped open, dripping rot. At that distance, Orren could see every disgusting detail inside—rows of punctured flesh, holes in its gums, and a single long hair wedged between its teeth. One end of the hair was caught tight in its molars, the other trailed down its throat, and as it opened its mouth wider, the strand pulled up from deep inside like a string being reeled from its gut. The zombie snarled and lunged for his throat. A blazing fireball exploded between them, sealing its mouth shut mid-bite. A clear, calm voice cut through the chaos."Still not beyond saving." More fire followed. Flaming arrows rained down, piercing the creature again and again until it looked like a walking torch. Louisa and her team had fired—each shot clean, deadly, and certain. Orren's back was drenched in sweat. He turned stiffly, and before he could move, Dominic and Louisa grabbed him and dragged him toward the truck. Behind them, the green poison mist was already rolling in, thick and suffocating, burning their lungs with every breath. Theresa unleashed one final blast of fire, clearing the zombies in their path, then sprinted forward like a streak of light. She reached the vehicle just a heartbeat before Louisa's group. One by one, everyone piled inside. The doors slammed shut, and the air filtration system kicked on. Louisa's team had spent more than six months preparing for this—to survive the poison fog. As the filters hummed to life, the stinging stench faded from the air, and for the first time in what felt like forever, they could finally breathe.