Page 80 of Romancing in Rot

An infected near Carlos’s crew drops, skull snapping backward before it disappears under the feet of the others.

Every kid below flinches.

Carlos looks up, wild-eyed, like he expects the next shot to hit him.

Another crack.

Another infected falls before it can reach Luis.

The girl with the shaved side stares at the rooftop. “They’re helping us.”

Carlos’s face twists in disbelief. He looks from the dead body at his feet to Clair on the roof, then to us descending the fire escape. Like nobody has helped them in so long he forgot what it looks like.

Another shot.

A corpse reaching for Wesker drops.

Luis clutches the backpack strap against his chest and looks up at Clair like she hung the moon.

Atta girl.

We hit the last landing. Jacob kicks the ladder loose, and it screams downward on its track. The sound pulls half the horde’s attention. Good. Look at us, not them.

Jacob drops first, machete already swinging. Lyla follows, blade flashing as she cuts into the closest infected. Trish lands beside me, fires twice, and drops a woman in a torn jean jacket before blackened fingers reach her sleeve.

I hit the ground last.

The dead close in.

A guy in a mechanic’s uniform lurches from between two cars, name patch still tucked neat over his chest.

Dale.

Dale tries to bite me.

I bury my hatchet in Dale’s eye.

He drops, and the horde flows over him like water over a stone.

Lyla is already beside me, blade punching up under a chin. Trish fires from the side in controlled bursts. Jacob pushes forward with his machete, carving a path through the mess of bodies.

Above us, Clair fires again.

A corpse in a Cubs jersey drops two steps from Lyla, its skull splitting across the sidewalk. Her next shot takes down one reaching for Trish’s shoulder. Then another near Luis. Then another.

Precise.

Controlled.

She isn’t panicking.

She’s hunting.

The pressure shifts just enough to let us move.

Carlos’s crew breaks apart at the fence.

One boy in a green hoodie tries to climb even though the fence is too tall and the barbed wire waits at the top. His sneakers scrape against the chain links. He gets halfway up before an infected grabs his ankle.