CHAPTER 39: RUN AND SLICE AND DICE

Riku was running along the narrow alley. The zombies behind him were chasing relentlessly and he wouldn’t give them that chance as he fired his M4 Carbine behind, stopping them in their tracks.

At the end of the alley, there was a door, leading to a building. An obvious step at this point is to enter that building, however, the inside of it might be teeming with zombies. So opening it was a huge risk.

Still, the zombies from the alley are coming, and not to mention the fact a Juggernaut was also on its way. How could he tell? Well the ground is trembling as it takes a step.

Without much of a choice, he grabbed the doorknob and turned it—It was locked.

Riku aimed his M4 Carbine at the doorknob and squeezed the trigger. The burst shattered the lock with a deafening crack. He slammed his shoulder against the door, forcing it open just as the first wave of undead closed in.

He rushed inside, immediately kicking the door shut and throwing his weight against it. The pounding on the other side came almost instantly, fists and claws hammering against the wood, but at least it held. Quickly, he slid the broken metal latch into place and dragged a nearby shelf in front of it.

Riku raised his weapon, sweeping the dark room with his mounted flashlight. Old furniture, scattered papers, and dust-coated walls filled the space. It looked like an office building that had been abandoned since the apocalypse.

It was a lucky break.

Riku navigated the corridors, his boots crunching against broken glass and loose debris scattered across the floor. Sunlight spilled in through shattered windows and holes in the ceiling, casting bright stripes across overturned chairs, broken desks, and graffiti sprayed in bold strokes on the walls—remnants of both the living and the dead that had passed through.

A low groan echoed somewhere ahead.

Riku froze, every muscle tightening as he snapped his M4 Carbine upward, barrel locking on the sound. His eyes swept the brightened hall, scanning for movement. At the far end, he caught the faint shift of a silhouette dragging itself against the light. His finger hovered near the trigger. Ammunition was limited. Every bullet wasted here meant less for when things got worse—when they always got worse.

The groan grew louder.

Then came the shuffle of feet.

Two shadows broke from the hallway ahead—zombies, their skin mottled, jaws slack, eyes lifeless yet burning with hunger. They caught sight of him instantly, hissing as they staggered into a clumsy charge.

Riku braced his stance.

The first lunged, arms outstretched. He sidestepped, swung the tomahawk in a brutal arc, and the blade buried itself deep into the side of its skull with a wet crack. The body dropped, twitching once before going still.

The second grabbed for his shoulder, snarling. Riku ripped the tomahawk free, twisted, and brought the blade down in a diagonal slash that split its face nearly in half. Blood and black ichor sprayed across the wall as the creature collapsed.

He exhaled sharply, steadying his breathing. One swing, one kill. That was the rule. Waste no movement.

But the noise carried. Groans began to rise from deeper in the building—echoes crawling through the halls.

"Damn it," he muttered.

Three more stumbled into view at the far end of the hall, drawn by the sound of the kills. Then another two spilled out of a side doorway, dragging their legs but accelerating as they scented prey.

Riku gritted his teeth and ran forward to meet them. Waiting meant getting surrounded.

The first came fast—mouth snapping, yellow teeth flashing. He ducked under its reaching arms and slammed the tomahawk up into its jaw, shoving until the steel carved straight into its brain. He ripped the weapon free and pivoted.

The second tackled him, its rotten weight slamming into his chest. They both crashed against a desk. Riku shoved an arm under its chin, holding its snapping jaws inches from his face. Its foul breath washed over him.

Snarling, he rammed the tomahawk’s spike into the side of its temple. The body went limp instantly, collapsing against him. Riku shoved it off with a grunt and rolled back to his feet.

Two more were already almost on top of him. He swung wide, hacking across one’s neck. The head tumbled loose, body staggering before collapsing. The other he met with a brutal kick to the chest, slamming it into a filing cabinet. Before it could recover, he buried the tomahawk in its skull.

He paused, chest heaving, the hall smeared with gore. For a moment, silence returned.

Then it broke again.

More moans. More dragging footsteps. A chorus of hunger rising from stairwells and adjacent rooms. They were converging on him now, all at once.

Riku spun, scanning his options. The hall stretched deeper, sunlight spilling through cracked blinds. Doors lined the walls, most hanging ajar. He needed cover—somewhere to regroup before the horde swallowed him whole.

The closest door was half-open, a faded nameplate still hanging crooked on its surface. He yanked it wide, swept the room with a glance. Empty—just overturned chairs, a broken table, and filing cabinets rusting against the far wall.

Good enough.

He darted inside, slammed the door shut, and jammed the lock into place. His muscles burned as he dragged a heavy desk across the floor and braced it against the entrance.

Outside, fists and claws began hammering the wood, the guttural moans swelling louder, closer. Dust rained from the frame as the dead battered at it.

Riku pressed his back against the wall, tomahawk still dripping, breath ragged. His heartbeat thudded against his ribs, sweat rolling down his neck.

He glanced toward the cracked blinds, sunlight painting lines across the floor. Through the slats he could see the street below—empty for now, though distant shapes moved, shifting in the light.

And worse, he could still feel it. The faint tremor under his boots. The Juggernaut. Out there somewhere, hunting.

"Shit..." he whispered under his breath.

He tightened his grip on the tomahawk, forcing himself to stay calm. Zombies outside. A Juggernaut in the streets. And Miko still unconscious in the wrecked SUV.

He had bought her time. He had lured the horde away. Now he just had to survive long enough to slip back out.

Riku slid down against the wall, resting for only a breath before forcing himself upright again.

Sooner or later, those zombies will stop, and when that time comes, he will buy something from the Armory Shop.