Another flash, and the cultists appeared right outside the second spire’s range.
Honestly, when they were told about the endless rain, most of them didn’t believe it. The sun had turned so bright, so how could any place stay dark under its intense rays?
All their doubts disappeared when they saw it with their own eyes.
"It’s... actually dark inside," someone mumbled.
June couldn’t help but roll her eyes.
This was the reason she was against bringing the initiates along. These fools still weren’t enlightened by their faith and kept questioning the superiors in their absence.
Don’t lose your cool. They won’t make it out either way. Let them serve as the meat shields they are.
The Enforcers were quick to act.
The zombies didn’t know about their arrival, which made it the best time to start the construction.
"Assemble in your groups as planned," June announced. "And remember, you’re not allowed to kill the undead under any circumstances. Not even if your life is in danger."
Only when they had their bases ready would they kill zombies to lure others. After interrogating the ones that escaped Blaze’s lair, the cult got some idea about his modus operandi.
He was incredibly possessive of his horde. Even with the slightest threat, he reacted with full force.
The group before didn’t know about that, and underestimated the force that’d be sent their way. That’s why they got defeated.
However, this time the cult was prepared.
After constructing the bases, they would kill the zombies to force Blaze to react. Then, they’d take out his lieutenants and force him to act himself.
Then, they’d retreat into their bases and teleport away, only to return later and continue the skirmishes from every direction.
The cult wanted to chip away at Blaze’s patience. Without his patience, he would lose his cool, and then they’d trick him into teleporting out of the spire’s range.
Once outside, he would lose contact with his horde. It would become easier to defeat him and turn him into the Blightlord’s servant.
That was their grand plan.
Was it a flawless plan?
Was it the best plan the cult could come up with?
But it was the best they had to offer, given their circumstances and the urgency of the situation.
At the same time, inside the lair...
"They’re here," Blaze announced.
Zombies wouldn’t know about their arrival?
That thought was hilarious.
The moment they went against Blaze, they had forfeited their right to privacy.
The multiple ways of infection he had at his disposal were perhaps the one thing that made him more dangerous than any other zombie on the planet.
That and his unconventional thinking.
"Should we send stalkers?" Marrow asked.
"Let’s see how five hundred humans survive against thousands of zombies."
Our lives were once peaceful.
Back then, we still had worries for our survival, but it was nowhere near the struggle we face now.
Children, jobs, and whatnot.
Angela and Juan Mendez thought that was their life until the apocalypse came knocking.
They watched their children die before their eyes and even had to kill them with their own hands. Life didn’t get any better after that. Not until the enforcers found them.
The Mendez couple was recruited into the cult. They thought a good life awaited them, but the reality was much worse.
In the name of obedience, they were reduced to forced laborers, though they weren’t alone.
Only a dozen rescued individuals were selected to take the test to climb the social ladder each week. The rest remained as laborers with little to no rights.
Forget about rights, anyone who expressed displeasure was never seen again. So the people kept their heads down and continued building the ’wall’ in the harsh desert of Nevada.
That’s how long they worked in the desert.
Last week, they were pulled out of there. They rejoiced, thinking it was their time to take the test.
However, the smiles dropped when they noticed not a dozen but fifty of them were asked to give their services elsewhere.
Although it was framed as a request from the higher-ups, they didn’t have a choice in the matter.
That’s how they ended up in San Diego, constructing small outposts.
The change in scenery was appreciated, if not for the looming dangers.
"It’s like a battlefield," Juan whispered.
"Shush, someone will hear you," Angela replied, lifting an entire tree on her back. "The sooner we make ten outposts, the sooner we can have that promotion."
Being a zealot had various benefits.
More rations, more authority, even bigamy was allowed for them. The latter was an initiative to boost the population.
In short, it was much better than living in a gutter with eighteen others.
That’s why no one minded the dark or the rotten smell of the endless rain, even though they were working barefoot.
Snapping out of their dreams, the couple kept their heads down as they hauled more supplies to the half-built outpost.
The constant rain made it difficult to find footing, forcing them to dig their feet into the mud for grip.
Juan was doing the same when he felt something against his feet. Before he could tell anyone about it, there was a crunch as he crushed whatever it was.
He froze in his spot, remembering the warning.
While the zealots were disallowed from killing zombies, the initiates were told not to kill anything. They were there to build the outposts and had to focus on that only.
Angela noticed him pause and turned around, still balancing the massive tree trunk on her shoulders.
"What happened? Why did you stop?" she asked in a whisper, not wanting to draw attention.
Juan frowned and looked down, hoping it was some kind of fruit or something. However, the darkness made it impossible to see anything.
"I think I stepped on something," he whispered.
Angela’s eyes widened as she hurriedly turned around.
"No, you didn’t," she said. "Get away from there."
Juan took the hint and hurried away. No one had seen him step on whatever the thing was. It should be fine as long as he didn’t admit to anything.
The couple left, not noticing the small ant lying within the mud or the strange powder that was clinging to Juan’s feet.