Apocalypse: King of Zombies

They weren’t heading out to launch some grand assault on San Diego—let’s be real, they didn’t have that kind of firepower.

The real goal was to sweep the surrounding area clean of zombies, send a message. Make it clear that you couldn’t just waltz up to their shelter whenever you felt like it. They needed to put some fear back into the dead.

Mia and the others moved out beyond the shelter’s gates. Aside from Chris and his crew, everyone here was a top-ranked Awakener—some of the best the shelter had.

”Jenny, don’t be scared,” Chris said, trying to reassure her. ”Once we clear out the zombies around here, the shelter’ll be a lot safer.”

”Oh... okay,” Jenny nodded, but something didn’t sit right with her. Clearing zombies sounded... well, dangerous as hell.

Especially with those Zombie Kings lurking around—twisted, powerful monsters that made your skin crawl just thinking about them.

God knows which one they might run into tonight...

...

The sky had gone pitch black. Night had fully fallen, and a cold wind swept across the open fields, making the tall grass and tree branches sway and rustle.

A thick cloud slid over the moon, plunging everything into an even deeper darkness.

”Awoooo—”

Suddenly, a dog’s howl tore through the night, echoing across the hills and woods.

”Diesel, you smell anything?” a voice asked.

It belonged to a Zombie King with a big, round head. His skin was charred black, covered in burn scars, looking like he’d barely survived a fire.

”Woof! Woof! Woof!” the zombie dog barked three times.

Bighead—because that’s what everyone called the round-headed Zombie King—understood immediately: No. Scent. Detected.

Diesel was no ordinary mutt. After Buddy died, Bighead had gotten this beast from the Hellhound Zombie King. Diesel was an American Bully—thick, muscular, packed with raw power, and way more vicious than the husky they’d lost.

”Come on! Let’s check somewhere else,” Bighead barked at Diesel and the rest of his crew.

They were out here hunting for Big Ears, Shrimpy, and the rest of the so-called ”Overlord Squad” from Los Angeles—payback for getting smacked in the face with a brick and for the death of their dog.

The zombie gang roamed the open fields, Diesel sniffing the ground, searching for any trace.

”Where the hell did those four run off to? You think they’re holed up in their corpse nest, too scared to come out?”

”No way. They’ve been real active lately, poking around, trying to dig up dirt on us.”

”Yeah, they’re probably close. Keep looking!”

The elite zombies muttered among themselves, their glowing eyes scanning the darkness.

Then, Diesel suddenly froze mid-sniff, lifted his head, and growled in a specific direction.

Woof woof woof! Woof woof woof!

Translation: ”Found them. Over there.”

Bighead’s eyes lit up, excitement flashing across his burned face. But he quickly raised a finger to his lips.

”Shhh...” he hissed. Big Ears had freakishly sharp hearing—he could sense danger coming from a mile away. They’d almost caught him a few times before, but every time he’d bolted before they could even get close.

”Keep it quiet. No loud noises!” Bighead whispered urgently.

This time, they weren’t gonna screw it up. They moved carefully, barely making a sound as they crept toward the target.

They slipped through the woods, crossed the open fields, and climbed up a small hill, finally stopping just short of the crest.

Down below, in the middle of the barren wasteland, they spotted four figures. They weren’t close, but one of them had two huge, unmistakable ears sticking out.

”There they are! That’s them!” one of the zombie underlings whispered excitedly.

”Shut up! Get down!” Bighead hissed, shoving the guy’s head into the grass.

They crouched low, peeking through the weeds like a bunch of shady creeps, watching as Big Ears and his crew swaggered right toward them.

”Heh... perfect,” one zombie muttered.

”Yeah, probably trying to mess with our turf again.”

”This time, we’re gonna make ’em pay.”

They whispered back and forth, barely able to contain their excitement. This was a golden opportunity—no way they were letting it slip.

Meanwhile, Big Ears and his squad had no clue they were being watched. They strolled along without a care in the world, cocky as hell, especially now that Ethan was back with them.

”Brothers, this is it! Time to make a name for ourselves!” Big Ears said, full of excitement.

”Yeah, yeah!” Mist nodded eagerly. ”Shroom and Sis said the corpse nest ahead picked up some kind of signal from outer space. All we gotta do is figure out what it was and report back to the boss.”

”Man, those shrimp the boss brought back were so good,” Shrimpy said dreamily, still savoring the memory.

Big Ears winced just thinking about it. ”Tch... my teeth still hurt from that ’shrimp’...”

”Hey! Could you stop thinking about food for two seconds? We’re out here to do something big, not have a damn seafood buffet!” Big Ears snapped.

”Huh? Something big? Like... bigger shrimp? Where?!” Shrimpy immediately started scanning the area, eyes wide.

”...Forget it,” Big Ears sighed, feeling like trying to reason with Shrimpy was a lost cause.

Locomotive, who’d been quiet, spoke up, his voice low. ”We should be careful. We’re getting close to San Diego’s outer perimeter. It’s... weirdly quiet.”

”Hmph! Probably scared,” Big Ears said, puffing up his chest. ”Bet they’re all hiding, scared I’ll wipe the floor with ’em.”

They reached a steep dirt slope and started climbing up, hunched low.

Just as they were about to crest the hill, Shrimpy’s nose twitched. He sniffed the air, frowning.

”You guys smell that? Something’s burning... like, really burnt.”

Now that he mentioned it, Big Ears caught a whiff too. His nose twitched instinctively.

Zombies had pretty sharp senses, and the smell of scorched flesh was strong up here. They followed the scent to the top of the hill.

The burnt smell was thickest here. Off to the side, hidden in a patch of tall grass, was something... round and black.

”What the hell is that?” Big Ears muttered, squinting.

Then the round thing grinned—literally—flashing a mouthful of sharp, gleaming white teeth.

”Heh heh... gotcha,” it said.

”???” Big Ears’ mind blanked for a second, a whole row of question marks popping up over his head. Then he got a good look at the thing.

Round head. Burnt skin. Familiar as hell.

”Shit! It’s Bighead!”

”Get ’em, boys!” Bighead roared.

Suddenly, Diesel and a whole squad of elite zombies burst out of the grass, snarling and charging.

The second they locked eyes, it was pure chaos. The hatred between them was real, and the attacks were vicious.

”Run for it!” Shrimpy screamed, bolting without a second thought.

But Big Ears was too close—Bighead tackled him straight off the slope, and the two of them tumbled down together in a mess of limbs and dirt.

”Hey! Little help here!” Big Ears shouted as he rolled.

”I believe in you, Big Ears! Show ’em your unstoppable killing power!” Mist called back, his body erupting into thick black smoke that swallowed the area in darkness. In a flash, he vanished into the shadows.

”Wait, what?!” Big Ears stared, dumbfounded. These guys were seriously on another level...

Bighead pinned him down, his charred face twisted into a savage grin. ”Nobody gets away tonight! Chase ’em down, boys!”

”Woof woof! Woof woof woof!” Diesel barked, charging headfirst into the black mist, the elite zombies hot on his heels.

Bighead looked down at Big Ears, his eyes gleaming with murderous intent.

”...”

Big Ears broke into a cold sweat, then said, ”Hey, if you’ve got any guts, get off me and let’s settle this one-on-one!”

...