"Just got back and already stealing Razorbacks…" Hank muttered under his breath. But really, if they didn't steal Razorbacks, there'd be no way to get fresh meat. So… yeah, not like they had much of a choice.
This Razorback—had to be stolen. No way around it.
With a few zombies leading the way, Ethan headed toward Solaris Citadel.
"Boss, this way! There's a shortcut—real quiet-like!"
"Oh, okay…" Ethan followed along, keeping pace.
Hank and his little crew of undead were sneaking around like shady alley rats, constantly glancing around, checking their bearings with exaggerated caution.
The terrain wasn't exactly friendly—uneven ground, jagged rock formations jutting up here and there, with patches of dry, yellowed grass swaying in the wind.
The sandy soil was littered with bones—some half-buried, others piled into heaps of skulls. The whole landscape screamed desolation and death.
It felt like the entire planet was slowly dying.
