Chapter 76: The Jewelry District

Chapter 76: Chapter 76: The Jewelry District

The black pickup truck sped onto the main road.

Penelope looked out the window and felt her chest tighten.

They knew the city had changed but they couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable seeing it.

Only minutes earlier, people had still been trying to convince themselves that everything would be okay.

Now they were running for their lives.

A mother sprinted across the street carrying a little girl in her arms. A man desperately pulled an elderly woman toward a nearby apartment building while another pounded frantically against the locked doors of a convenience store, begging the owner inside to let him in.

Nobody stopped to help. Not because they didn’t want to, but because they couldn’t.

Because the dead were everywhere. All it took was one distraction and a life would be lost.

Killian carefully maneuvered the truck around abandoned vehicles that had been left in the middle of the road. Some still had their doors hanging open, their engines idling as though their owners had only stepped away for a moment. Grocery bags lay scattered across the asphalt. A stroller rested on its side beside a crosswalk, one of its wheels spinning slowly.

Ben stared out the window without saying a word.

The world he had known three days ago no longer existed.

A loud crash echoed from the intersection ahead.

Everyone instinctively looked toward the sound.

A city bus had collided with three abandoned cars after its driver lost control. The front windshield shattered on impact, sending broken glass across the pavement. Several passengers stumbled out through the emergency exit. Some were bleeding. Others helped complete strangers climb out of the wreckage.

"They’re actually helping each other," Penelope said quietly.

"They still think everyone can be saved," Killian replied as he steered around the accident.

His voice carried no mockery.

Only resignation.

One of the passengers suddenly pointed behind the bus.

"Run!"

The warning came too late.

Half a dozen zombies emerged from the shadows between the parked cars, drawn by the collision. The passengers who had been helping one another immediately scattered. One young man reached back, refusing to leave an older gentleman behind. He grabbed the man’s arm and pulled with everything he had.

The older gentleman stumbled forward.

Then another zombie grabbed his shoulder.

The young man hesitated.

Just for a second.

It was enough.

A second zombie tackled him to the ground.

Penelope closed her eyes.

She couldn’t watch.

Killian never took his eyes off the road.

"Don’t stop," Erik said quietly.

"I wasn’t planning to," Killian answered.

The vehicle continued north.

The deeper they drove into the city, the more obvious the pattern became.

Every loud sound attracted more infected.

A blaring car alarm became surrounded within seconds.

People shouting across the street unknowingly led zombies directly toward one another.

Even a barking dog caused several infected to change direction.

"I guess I should count us lucky that they only hunt by sound," Ben whispered.

"And vibrations," Penelope added. "Every footstep... every slammed car door... every scream is guiding them."

"Yes, but at least they don’t hunt by the scent. In some novels, the zombies hunt by scent and sound." Ben whispered. Everyone stayed quiet.

Kai leaned his elbow against the window and watched another group of frightened civilians run toward what they believed was safety. "Lucky us." He responded.

"But haven’t you noticed? The zombies aren’t creating the chaos," he said. "The people are."

Nobody argued because he was right.

Killian slowed the truck as the buildings around them began to change. Small family-owned businesses gave way to expensive storefronts lined with polished glass windows and decorative stone facades. Elegant streetlights illuminated signs advertising luxury watches, designer boutiques, and high-end jewelry.

"The jewelry district" Penelope said.

Erik nodded.

"This is it."

The truck rounded the final corner.

Then everyone fell silent.

The entrance to the district was blocked.

Luxury vehicles had crashed into one another, creating a wall of twisted metal across the street. Beyond the wreckage wandered dozens of zombies. Some moved aimlessly between the abandoned cars. Others knelt over bodies that no longer moved.

None of them had noticed the truck.

Yet.

Killian slowly eased his foot off the accelerator.

The engine idled quietly as every pair of eyes remained fixed on the street ahead.

"We’re not driving through that," Ben said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Killian studied the distance between the barricade and the largest jewelry store on the corner.

The front entrance stood less than thirty meters away.

Close enough to reach.

Far enough to die trying.

Without taking his eyes off the road, Killian reached for the gear shift.

"We need to go on foot from here on out," he said as quietly as possible.

No one wanted to break the silence.

They all understood what that meant.

The truck had carried them this far, but it could take them no farther. Beyond the windshield stood dozens of zombies wandering between luxury vehicles and shattered storefronts. The jewelry district, once reserved for the wealthy, had become a feeding ground for the dead.

Ben swallowed hard.

"So... we just run through them?"

Killian shook his head.

"No."

He pointed toward the largest jewelry store on the corner. The elegant glass building stood no more than thirty meters away. Even in the darkness, its display windows sparkled beneath the streetlights. Diamond necklaces, gold bracelets, and expensive watches still rested inside their cases, untouched by the chaos outside.

"We fight our way there."

Kai leaned forward, studying the street through the windshield.

"There are more than twenty."

"Thirty-two," Killian corrected.

Kai slowly turned his head.

"You counted?"

"I always count."

No one questioned how he had managed to do it so quickly.

Erik opened the passenger door just enough to study the street outside before quietly closing it again.

"The zombies are spread out," he observed. "If we move quickly and avoid making unnecessary noise, we can prevent them from surrounding us."

Killian nodded.

"They’ll hear us the moment the doors open. We won’t have much time before every infected in this district converges on our position."

Ben tightened his grip around the machete Penelope had given him earlier. He looked down at the blade, then at his trembling hands.

"I’ve never..."

His voice trailed off.

Kai reached over and squeezed the back of Ben’s neck.

"I know."

Ben looked at him.

"I’ve never killed anything before."

The smile faded from Kai’s face.

"Neither had Ethan."

The truck became quiet again.

Everyone remembered the thirteen-year-old boy standing in Apartment 1203 with nothing more than a baseball bat and the determination to protect his family.

If Ethan could do it...

Then so could Ben.

Erik reached behind his seat and pulled out another hunting knife from his backpack.

He handed it to Ben.

"Keep the machete in your dominant hand," he instructed. "Use the knife only if something gets too close. Don’t swing wildly. Aim for the head, then keep moving. If one of us tells you to run, you run. Don’t stop to help us."

Ben accepted the knife and nodded.

"What about you?"

Erik gave him a reassuring look.

"We’ll be right behind you."

Penelope quietly reached into her space and retrieved a pair of work gloves before handing one pair to Ben and another to Kai.

"Wear these," she said. "A better grip could save your life."

Kai slipped them on and flexed his fingers.

"I knew there was a reason I liked your magical storage closet."

Penelope rolled her eyes.

"It’s called a space."

"I know," Kai replied with a grin. "Magical storage closet just sounds funnier."

Despite the tension hanging over the truck, Ben let out a small laugh.

It disappeared almost as quickly as it came.

Outside, another growl echoed through the street.

Several zombies lifted their heads.

Killian wrapped his hand around the driver’s side door handle.

"Once we step outside," he said, "there’s no turning back."

No one answered, they didn’t need to.

"And remember...avoid using your powers for now." Erik reminded them.

Everyone nodded. They understood what Erik didn’t finish saying. Powers were their last resort.

Each of them tightened their grip on their weapons, steadied their breathing, and silently prepared themselves for the battle waiting beyond the truck doors.

Killian counted down with nothing more than his fingers.

Three.

Two.

One.

He threw the door open.

The growling stopped.

Every zombie on the street turned toward them at the exact same moment.

And then they charged.