Apocalypse: King of Zombies

”Um… can I ask something?” Chris suddenly spoke up, unable to hold it in any longer. ”This compound you’re talking about—does it have someone named Joe Walker?”

”Joe Walker?” The older man from earlier—George—blinked in surprise. ”You mean Old Joe?”

”You know him?!” Chris rushed forward, grabbing George by the shoulders, eyes wide with hope.

”Uh… there is someone in the compound named Joe,” George said, a little startled. ”But I don’t know if he’s the one you’re looking for.”

”Can you tell me how old he is? What he looks like?” Chris asked carefully, trying to keep his voice steady.

”Now that you mention it… you actually kinda look like him,” George said, squinting. ”You wouldn’t happen to be his son, would you?”

”Yes! I am! I’m his son!” Chris said, his voice trembling with excitement. ”So my dad’s really in the compound?”

”He—”

”George!” Harris suddenly barked, cutting him off.

Boom!

A dull thud echoed across the field as Harris’s body was sent flying.

Pfft—

He hit the ground hard, coughing up blood, eyes wide with shock as he stared at Ethan, who stood where he’d been a second ago.

”Say another word,” Ethan said coldly, ”and you die.”

He’d already been patient with this guy. But Harris just kept pushing.

”Harris!” the others shouted, rushing over to help him up. Their eyes burned with anger as they looked at Ethan.

But Harris, to his credit, wasn’t completely stupid. He waved them off, signaling not to escalate.

Chris turned back to George, trying to stay calm. ”It’s okay. Don’t worry about him. Just tell me—what happened to my dad?”

George glanced at Harris, saw no objection, then sighed. ”Old Joe’s definitely in the compound. He’s a good man—helped a lot of people. But… he got on the wrong side of the higher-ups. Stuck his nose where they didn’t want it. Now he’s not doing so well.”

”...!!”

Chris’s heart clenched. ”What about my mom?”

”I haven’t seen her,” George said, shaking his head. ”Far as I know, he came in alone.”

”...!!”

Chris took a deep breath, steadying himself. ”Where is this compound?”

George hesitated.

But then Harris, still wiping blood from his mouth, suddenly spoke up. ”Tell them.”

George gave him a puzzled look but nodded. ”It’s at the old high school in Pine Hollow. They converted it into a compound.”

”Got it.” Chris nodded, then turned to Ethan.

”Let’s go,” Ethan said.

The group headed back to their cars.

As they were about to leave, George stumbled over, calling out, ”Hey, kid! If you’re really going to the compound, listen to me—if you want to stay alive, don’t mess with Knox’s people. Whatever they tell you to do, just do it.”

”Got it,” Ethan replied casually, not even turning around.

The engines roared to life, and the cars rolled out toward town.

George watched them go, then turned to Harris, still confused. ”Harris… why’d you change your mind and tell them?”

”You think they wouldn’t have found it anyway?” Harris said, brushing dirt off his clothes.

”Well… yeah, I guess.”

Harris stared after the retreating vehicles, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.

He hadn’t told them to protect the compound. He just didn’t want to see another group of young people walk into that place and end up like them.

But now… now he wasn’t so sure.

These people weren’t ordinary.

Maybe—just maybe—they’d be the ones to change things.

”Come on,” he said. ”Let’s head back.”

”But we haven’t finished the task yet.”

”We’ll deal with it later.”

”…Alright.”

Pine Hollow — inside a small compound still under construction.

The place was buzzing with activity. Dozens of men were hard at work, hauling materials, hammering frames, and reinforcing barricades.

A middle-aged man in his forties had just slung a heavy bag of cement over his shoulder and was about to move when—thud—another sack landed hard on top of it, nearly buckling his knees.

He staggered but clenched his jaw and forced himself upright.

”Come on, Joe. Two bags already got you wobbling? I was about to toss you a third,” a young man nearby sneered.

”Careful, man. Don’t crush him. We’re still short on labor around here. If you kill him, Knox’ll have our asses.”

”I know, I know. Just two bags. He’ll live.”

”Still, kinda sucks for the guy. Should’ve kept his mouth shut. Pissed off Blake for no reason.”

”Yeah, in a world crawling with zombies, best to mind your own damn business.”

Joe said nothing. He just limped forward, dragging his broken body toward the construction site, both bags of cement weighing him down.

Crack!

A whip lashed across his back, the sound sharp and cruel.

”Move it! Quit dragging your damn feet!” barked a cold voice behind him.

Joe didn’t respond. He just gritted his teeth and kept going, refusing to fall.

Up close, it was clear—his leg was crippled, and one of his arms hung uselessly at his side, clearly broken.

The overseers didn’t care. They lashed him whenever they felt like it, and Joe took it all in silence.

Around him, the other workers glanced over with pity in their eyes. But none of them dared speak up. The last few who tried had been whipped too. Now, no one said a word.

Joe finally reached the site and dropped the cement with a grunt, already turning to go back for more.

”Old Joe,” a nearby worker mixing cement whispered, ”why don’t you sneak a break? You’re gonna collapse at this rate.”

”You think they’d let me?”

”Damn it, man… why couldn’t you just keep your head down?”

”It’s done,” Joe said quietly. ”No point regretting it now. If it weren’t for my boy, I’d have joined his mother a long time ago.”

”Hey, Joe! You slacking off again?” a young man shouted, spotting them.

He stormed over, whip already in hand.

”I told you not to chat!”

”I told you not to slack!”

The young man lashed out, each strike harder than the last.

He was enjoying this.

Joe was one of the few people Knox had specifically told them to ”keep an eye on”—which really meant: make his life hell.

Now that he had an excuse, he wasn’t holding back.

Joe’s back was quickly torn open, blood soaking through his shirt.

”Stop! You’ll kill him!” the worker who’d spoken to Joe tried to intervene.

”What, you want a taste too?”

”N-No…”

”Then shut it and get lost.”

The man backed off, helpless, watching as Joe writhed on the ground, trying to shield himself from the blows.

But the young man didn’t stop. He kept whipping him, over and over.

As long as he didn’t kill him, it was all fair game.

...

Outside the compound, two vehicles pulled up and came to a stop.

Nine people stepped out.

”This should be the place,” Ethan said, eyes scanning the perimeter.

”Let’s go in,” Chris said, barely able to contain himself.

Ethan nodded, then instinctively activated [True Sight]to get a read on what was happening inside.

The moment his vision pierced the compound walls, he froze.

He saw someone being beaten—whipped mercilessly on the ground.

And the man’s face…

Fury exploded in Ethan’s chest.

”Move!!” he barked.