CHAPTER 48: RECLAMATION

Hearing that from Riku, the five survivors jumped down from the aisle.

"Who are you?" asked the man who seemed to be their spokesman—mid-twenties, casual clothes, messy hair, the look of someone who had been an ordinary civilian before the world fell apart.

Riku’s eyes flicked over the group quickly, cataloging details the way a soldier would. Two men were wearing scuffed sneakers and torn jeans. The other had a backpack slung over one shoulder, probably their supply carrier. The women were dressed lightly, one with a jacket tied around her waist, the other gripping a broken broom handle like it was her only lifeline.

"I’m a survivor," Riku said evenly. He motioned slightly toward Miko, who stayed half a step behind him with her Glock still at the ready. "And this girl here—she’s my partner."

The word made Miko stiffen. A faint blush rose on her cheeks, and she looked down, suddenly shy despite the situation.

"I see... your girlfriend, huh," the spokesman said, smirking a little as if trying to lighten the tension.

Miko’s face reddened even more, her lips parting to speak, but Riku cut in before she could.

"Not my girlfriend," he said. "We’re not a couple. She’s my partner. We watch each other’s backs. That’s all."

"Ah I see," the spokesman said, chuckling. "Anyways my name is Mamoru, you guys saved our life. Are you from the Army? But you look like you were in high school..."

"I’m not from the Army and yes, you can say that I’m a student."

"Then how come you have guns?" the other man asked, eyes flicking nervously to the M4 slung over Riku’s chest.

Riku didn’t bother giving him a real answer. He wasn’t about to explain the System, or where he got his gear. Not to strangers.

"That’s not your concern," Riku said flatly, his tone leaving no room for argument. He scanned their group again, then asked the only thing that mattered. "Is it just the five of you here?"

Mamoru hesitated, his mouth opening as if to speak, then closing again. He glanced at his companions, their expressions flickering with unease. Finally, he shook his head.

"No... it’s not just us." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking guilty. "There are more of us. We’ve been keeping them safe in the basement."

Riku narrowed his eyes. "How many?"

Mamoru swallowed hard. "Fifty five, including elderly and children."

Hearing that, Riku’s eyes widened. "Fifty five? That’s too many of you..."

And just as they could continue chatting, a horde of zombies from different parts of the supermarket found them. They are around them.

"We will resume our talk later," Riku said as he reloaded his M4 Carbine with a fresh magazine.

"We’ll resume our talk later," Riku muttered, yanking a fresh mag from his vest. He slammed it into the M4 Carbine, racked the charging handle, and raised the rifle.

The first burst cracked through the air, echoing in the cavernous store. Three corpses dropped instantly, skulls punched through by precise headshots. Riku moved fluidly, shifting fire, cutting down one after another. Brass casings tinked against the floor.

Miko was right behind him, her Glock barking sharp reports. She kept her aim tight, every round punching into skulls that got too close to Riku’s flank. For someone who had woken up half-dead yesterday, she was steady.

The five survivors... were another story.

Mamoru and the two men had picked up metal pipes and a rusty machete, swinging awkwardly, panic in their movements. The two women screamed every time a zombie lurched too close, their swings wild and desperate. The broom-handle one nearly dropped it after missing her swing entirely.

"Keep them off us!" Riku barked, emptying another controlled burst into the horde.

The survivors tried, but their strikes barely staggered the infected. One of the women stumbled back, tripping over a fallen can of beans. A zombie lunged on her instantly, snarling as it clawed toward her neck.

"AHHH! HELP!" she shrieked, her makeshift weapon slipping from her hand.

Riku pivoted instantly, M4 snapping up. Three rounds cracked in a tight group. The zombie’s skull burst apart, its body collapsing just inches from the woman’s throat.

She froze, staring wide-eyed at the corpse twitching at her feet. Her lips parted, trembling, about to say something.

"Stand up! It’s not over yet."

The woman scrambled up, shaking, fumbling to grab the broom handle again.

The groans of the horde pressed closer, the aisles trembling as more bodies funneled in through the open storefront. Riku’s tomahawk ripped free from a skull with a wet crack, and he shoved the corpse aside before planting a boot into another zombie’s chest.

"Sir!" Mamoru shouted over the chaos, swinging his pipe clumsily at a biter’s head. "I think with you—we can close the front entrance! That’s why we’re here!"

Riku’s eyes snapped toward him mid-swing. His tomahawk buried into another skull before he kicked the body down. It clicked then—the reason they hadn’t just abandoned the supermarket. They weren’t fighting to survive the minute. They were fighting to reclaim.

The entrance was the weak point. As long as it gaped open, more infected would keep pouring in.

"Got it," Riku barked back. He pivoted, firing his Glock into a zombie that was closing on Mamoru’s flank. "I’ll try closing it."

He fired a burst into the crowd pressing in from outside, buying himself a few seconds. "Miko, cover me!" he shouted.

"Got it!" she called back, her Glock barking sharp reports as she kept the flank clear.

Riku vaulted over a fallen checkout counter, boots slamming down onto the tile. He reached the gate, heart pounding, and scanned quickly. There—a small maintenance panel on the side. He wrenched it open, revealing a rusted manual lever.

A snarl erupted at his left. Riku’s tomahawk snapped up instinctively, cleaving through the skull of a lunging biter. He shoved the twitching corpse away, grabbed the lever, and yanked hard.

The gate screamed like a dying beast as it ground downward, rust scraping against rust. Zombies clawed at the opening, their rotten fingers reaching, nails scraping against metal. A few managed to jam their arms through, snarling furiously, but Riku gritted his teeth and bore down harder on the lever.

"Come on, move!" he hissed, muscles straining.

Another shove, another metallic groan, and the gate lurched lower. The space narrowed, one last chance for the dead to squeeze through. A biter forced its head under, jaws snapping wildly.

Riku let go of the lever just long enough to draw his Glock, firing point-blank into its skull. The body crumpled, wedged for a moment before sliding limp outside. He slammed the pistol back into his holster, both hands gripping the lever again.

With a final heave, the gate slammed down with a thunderous clang, the vibration rattling the glass around the frame.

"It’s close!" Riko announced.