Meanwhile, on the other side of the battlefield.
There was a loud explosion. A stream of smoke rose to the sky. The ground turned black and full of cracks.
The seven chosen were pinned against the crater’s wall. Some of them had strange abilities. One of them could control the wind around him, and the other could control flames. Neither could create the elements, only control them.
That’s why in their desperation they used a grenade, knowing the explosion would attract the walkers.
But the zombie before them had to be stopped at all costs.
"Did we do it?" one asked, trying to look through the smoke.
No one replied. They all hoped the grenade was enough to stop it. However, their hopes were crushed as the smoke cleared.
The four-armed zombie stood intact. It had crossed its arms to protect itself from the shrapnel. Parts of its flesh had melted away, revealing the tough bone underneath, but such wounds affected the living, not the undead.
"What the heck are those arms made of?" Dan, the blue-haired chosen, asked in disbelief.
Instead of solving their issues, using the grenade caused more problems. The walkers were headed their way.
Their mouths were covered in the blood of the soldiers they had sacrificed before, but their crazed eyes revealed their hunger for more. They stretched their arms towards the chosen, sauntering towards them.
They hoped the walkers would attack the four-armed zombie, or vice versa.
Unfortunately, neither of those things happened.
The walkers ignored the four-armed zombie and headed towards the chosen.
The problem wasn’t their approach, but the chosen’s inability to fight back.
Neha had warned them that under no circumstances could they kill the walkers. Even if it meant death.
Their only choice for survival was to run. However, that’s where the four-armed zombie became a problem.
Despite its muscular form, it was incredibly agile. It used its two bigger arms to propel itself forward and charge.
The chosen looked sideways. The scattered remains of their now-dead ally served as proof of the zombie’s strength.
"Fire! Light a fire-!"
"Are we supposed to pull the flames out of our asses?"
With the zombies closing in, they couldn’t start a fire even if they had the fuel.
Survival? Was it even possible?
Even if they somehow broke out of the walkers’ encirclement, they’d still have to fight the four-armed zombie.
If miraculously they killed it, there were still the protector, Blaze’s horde, Blaze, and then the Headless. How were they supposed to kill so many of them?
Dan looked ahead and saw one of the chosen laughing his head off. The rest felt something was off with him, but before they could understand, Rick, the one laughing, charged at the nearest walker.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?"
Someone yelled, trying to grab him, but it was too late. Rick ran past them and grabbed a walker by the throat.
The zombie snarled and tried to bite his hand, but it was too weak to do so.
Rick then turned to face the chosen. The strange smile didn’t leave his face.
Suddenly, Dan was on his feet, trying to calm Rick down. It was strange, considering he was the first to give up, but now wanted to fight.
"Dan, see how weak they are?" Rick commented, still smiling. "So fragile. So... killable."
Sensing that Rick had lost his mind, the chosen charged at him. However, Rick was a step ahead. Before they could reach him, he snapped the walker’s head off its shoulder before tossing it into the horde.
Everyone froze as the walker’s headless corpse hit the ground.
They couldn’t believe their eyes.
A walker was killed. Not by Blaze’s horde, but by one of their own.
Suddenly, all the walkers halted as if someone had hit their stop button. Their hands fell to their side, as their heads drooped.
"YOU IDIOT!" Dan shouted at the top of his lungs. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU JUST DID!?"
Rick stopped laughing, putting on a sad smile instead. Then he looked at Dan like a man possessed.
"Why should we be the only ones who die?" he said.
Dan smacked himself before clutching his hair. The guy had lost it. Unlike him, Rick was a civilian not long ago. It wasn’t surprising he cracked under pressure, but still... he just doomed everyone inside the crater.
"Now that I think about it... It might not be too bad," Dan chuckled.
Sure, they’d die, but at least they’d take Blaze down with them. Perhaps the Headless wouldn’t head towards the base, and that way his family would be safe.
It was the delusion of a man who knew he was about to die. The curse of finding hope in the gravest situations.
It was the mind’s way of controlling their flaring emotions. Feed them delusions to maintain them until they die, that is.
"Who did this?" Neha snarled in rage.
She gave everyone one order. One! The fools couldn’t even fulfill that.
Just then, she felt a tug and turned around to see Min. His shoulder was bent out of shape, and his face was swollen as if he had taken a severe beating.
"What happened to you?"
"Long story, argh," Min winced in pain as he tossed her on his other shoulder. "We need to get out of here."
"But the zombie king—!"
"If we survive, we can hunt it later. For now, we have to leave!"
Neha wanted to retort, but she knew her plan was doomed. Escape was their only option. Thankfully, Min was alive and didn’t abandon her.
"I’m sorry about everything," she whispered as Min zoomed out of the crater.
"Well, you can start apologizing by treating me better now."
"...how can you still joke in such a situation?"
Neha couldn’t point it out, but she felt something was different about Min. Earlier, he behaved coldly towards her, as if he were angry. But now, he was acting in a friendly way, almost as if they were best friends.
It felt as if someone else was in Min’s body.