The Ironhowl's reinforced wheels tore down another stretch of fractured road, its armored hull untouched by chaos. Smoke drifted through the air. Screams carried on the wind. Raven adjusted her grip on the wheel, cold eyes watching the broken horizon.
Up ahead, another man stumbled into view, waving his arms frantically. He stood directly in the middle of the road, his mouth moving before his body froze. A flicker of calculation passed through his face. Then his hand reached to his belt.
He pulled out a gun.
Raven didn't brake.
Loud bangs tore through the air three then four shots were fired at Raven. The bullets struck the Ironhowl's windshield with a dull tunk tunk, flattening uselessly against the now bulletproof windshield.
One of the first upgrades she'd installed was bulletproof windows and a reinforced body for her Ironhowl.
Raven stopped the vehicle. Steping out onto the road.
Her boots hit the pavement without a word. She reached into her system space, pulling out her Beretta with practiced ease, and raised it.
Bang Bang Bang
Two to the chest. One in the head to make sure he's dead.
The man fell onto the street like meat dropped from a butcher's hook.
"Fuck you," Raven muttered. "No second life as a zombie for you."
Gasps echoed from the sidewalk.
People had been watching. Survivors crouched behind burnt cars and shattered stoops, eyes wide.
Raven turned toward them.
"What?"
No one answered.
They just backed away, quiet, slow, desperate to stay invisible.
A scream rang out raw, and emotional.
A woman sprinted from a doorway, tears streaking down her face. She collapsed at the man's body, crying. Her hands shook as she grabbed the fallen gun.
"You bitch! You killed my husband!"
Raven sighed.
"Really?"
'Bang!'
One shot. To the center of her forehead.
The woman dropped to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.
Everyone on the street held their breath.
Then the growling started.
Zombies spilled from alleyways and broken buildings, drawn by the noise. The bystanders who were frozen in horror now screamed, too slow to run, too close to escape.
The horde hit them like a tide.
Raven turned without a glance back, walked to the Ironhowl, and climbed in. As she shifted into drive, the mirror caught one last image—zombies pulling flesh from the woman's corpse, jaws already soaked red with bits of her flesh in them.
"What a hell of a second day," Raven smiled. "Still better than my last life."
She drove on.
Every few blocks, zombies darted into the road. One hit the front bumper and exploded in a mess of limbs. Another bounced off the passenger side and vanished beneath the tires. She barely reacted.
"They really do come after sound," she said. "Like moths to a zombie stomper."
The road thinned. Fields replaced rubble. And then, after an hour of death and ruin, she saw it.
Seneca Army Depot.
The outer fence was still intact. Beyond it, walking figures wandered aimlessly in green army fatigues, no weapons in their hands. They clustered near barracks, supply sheds, and hangars.
Raven revved the engine.
"Let's test the new armored Ironhowl out."
The Ironhowl surged forward.
The gate folded under its weight, crashing inward as she barreled through. The noise drew every undead soldier within earshot. Dozens turned up. Then hundreds as they ran at her, creating a sea of zombies.
She didn't slow.
The SUV tore into the first group, smashing limbs, crushing torsos, turning rotted skulls into wet pulp against the bumper. Blood sprayed across the windshield, the tires shrieking against concrete.
"Good thing I added weight," Raven said. "Makes mowing them down a breeze."
She jerked the wheel hard—left, then full right. The Ironhowl spun on its wheels, plowing a donut through the horde. She shifted again. Another full donut, then another.
The world became a circle of gore and shattered bone.
"Why waste ammo," Raven said flatly, "when you've got horsepower and steel?"
When the Ironhowl finally rolled to a stop, the depot was silent again. Broken bodies littered the entrance. Blood soaked the pavement. Raven was glad she added an extra few tons of weight to the Ironhowl. Why use ammunition on zombies when you can simply crush them like pumpkins.
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