Moments ter, a shrill siren bred from the school, filling the air with a pierg sound that caught every zombie’s attention. Instantly, the horde shifted, staggering toward the sound like predators drawn to fresh prey.

  Meanwhile, inside a locked study room in the school, several students huddled, their faces pale as they heard the radi outside.

  “Who turned on that radio?!” one of them whispered, his voice trembling. “All the zombies are heading this way!”

  A heavyset man with a greasy appearance, whom the students called “Uncle Sam,” grunted, gripping a crowbar as he gred at them. He had been using the school as a temporary hideout, intending to use the students to create an escape route when the coast was clear. But now, with the zombie horde closing in, his pn was in jeopardy.

  “If I ever find out who started that radio, I’ll make them pay!” he muttered.

  As more zombies poured onto the campus, Uncle Sam’s ay grew. Desperately, he turo the students. “Any of you know where the school’s main power switch is?”

  A thin, nervous-looking boy raised a hand. “I know… It’s by the security room.”

  “Good. You’ll go there and turn it off,” Sam ordered, moving aside a makeshift barricade at a back window. “You jump from here. The back is clear.”

  The boy hesitated, visibly scared, but Sam’s gre was firm. “For everyone’s safety,” he said with a threatening tone.

  The other students, some of whom had beeant to send him, began to whisper words of encement mixed with guilt, urging him to go. “We’ll pull you up once you get it done, okay?”

  Tears glistened in the boy’s eyes as he relutly agreed. “Fine… I’ll go.”

  He took a deep breath and jumped out of the window, making his way to the security room.

  __________

  “Good work, Ego! Most of the zombies have moved off,” Zack said, pleased as he watched the dwindling number of zombies around the transport truck.

  Unaware of the terrified students ihe school, Zack tinued his mission, focused only on his survival. After all, this was the end of the world. He had to make hard choices, and he knew full well that his life took priority over anyone else’s safety.

  The broadcast tinued, reag over the zombie-filled pedestrian street. Soon, there were fewer than ten zombies left.

  “It’s time to move!” Zack muttered, gripping the wheel tighter as he pressed down on the gas, steering his vehicle onto the street.

  “Roar!” One of the zombies noticed him and, with a guttural cry, charged at the car.

  Instead of slowing down, Zack floored the accelerator, ramming into the zombie with a powerful thud. The creature hit the hood, ging for a moment before its legs caught uhe wheels. A gruesome series of ches followed as the vehicle rolled over it, leaving behind a mangled mess.

  “Sir, the cash transport truck is ahead on the right. There are a lot of zombies around it. I reend using Molotov cocktails,” Ego, his AI panion, advised.

  Zack followed Ego’ dire and spotted the bck armored truck, surrounded by six or seven zombies. Parking discreetly on the side, he opened his backpack, grabbed a Molotov cocktail, and slid out of the vehicle quietly.

  Using nearby cars as cover, Zack crouched and approached the armored truck step by step. The radio’s background noise masked his movement. Once he was teers away, he paused, dug behind a bck SUV. Carefully, he pulled out the homemade Molotov cocktail from his backpack, lit the rag at the mouth of the bottle, and threw it toward the zombies.

  BOOM!

  The bottle shattered, instantly igniting three or four zombies in a burst of fmes. The burning zombies stumbled and roared, spreading the fire to others nearby. The stench of charred flesh filled the air as one by ohe zombies fell to the ground.

  Just as Zack was about to throw another Molotov, he noticed a zombie heading in his dire, dressed in peared to be the remnants of an escort uniform.

  “Perfect timing,” he muttered, l the cocktail and drawing his nail gun, waiting for the zombie to get closer. The nail gun’s air pressure was weak, so he he zombie within three meters fuaranteed hit.

  When the zombie was close enough, Zack leaned out from behind the SUV and fired twice. The first nail lodged in the zombie’s forehead but didn’t pee fully. The sed hit the eye socket, dropping the creature instantly.

  “Well, that’s one less problem,” he remarked, tossing the nail gun aside. With his nail bat ready, he approached the transport truck. Only one more zombie stood between him and the truck, its ba, unaware due to the loud radio. Zack crept forward, but just then, the campus broadcast cut out, leaving a jarring silence.

  The zombie immediately turned around, log its gaze on Zack. “Roar!” it shrieked, charging straight at him.

  With no time to question why the broadcast had stopped, Zack sidestepped, swinging his nail bat with full force. The impact sent the zombie sprawling, and before it could recover, he delivered a crushing blow to its head.

  Unfortunately, the zombie’s roar had attracted the attention of nearby zombies. Seeing them turn, Zack called out, “Ego, what happened?”

  “Sir, the radio’s power supply is out. There could be other survivors on campus,” Ego replied.

  “Whatever. Time to leave!” Zack pulled a fertilizer bomb from his bag, lit the fuse, and lobbed it into the approag horde before sprinting to the cash truck. Ign the explosion behind him, he quickly searched the fallen zombie for keys, unlocked the truck, and climbed inside.

  BOOM!

  The fertilizer bomb went off, shredding the zombies into a spray of blood and flesh. Still, a few staggered toward the armored truck, g and biting at the vehicle, though their attacks were useless against its bulletproof pting.

  “The hell this zombie, he think he have armor-pierg teeth?” Zaeered, jamming the key into the ignition. The truck roared to life, and he pressed down on the gas. Zombies blog his path were crushed uhe massive wheels, reduced to nothing more than a bloody smear on the road.

  Two zombies g to the windows but were quickly flung off as the truck picked up speed.

  “Not bad, right, Ego?” Zack said, a hint of relief in his voiow that he was in motion.

  “Yes, sir, the operation was a success, although with minor plications. By the way, sir, the records show there’s over two million in cash in this truck’s partment.”

  “Cash? What good is cash in this apocalypse?” Zack scoffed, gng over to see a shotgun on the passenger seat with several boxes of ammunition. “Now, this is useful.”

  As he passed the school area, the loud rumble of the trugiracted more zombies, and the noise alerted survivors hiding inside. Several students peeked out of windows, frantically waving and shouting for help.

  “A vehicle! It’s a rescue!” they cried excitedly, pushing desks and chairs out of the way to get to the windows.