The truck's engine roared as I tore through the city, pushing it as fast as I dared. Wrecked cars, scattered bodies, and roaming undead clogged the streets, forcing me to weave and swerve just to keep moving. Behind me, Lee and Clementine were speaking to Amir over the radio.
As we passed the house where we'd been staying, Christa screamed Omid's name at the top of her lungs. His body lay motionless on the sidewalk, half his face crushed as if by a bat. Christa tried to jump from the truck, but Lee and Clementine grabbed her and held her back. She thrashed wildly, consumed by grief. She was unraveling, and I could only hope her unborn baby hadn't been killed by the accident I caused.
Once Omid's body disappeared behind us, Christa went silent. Clementine stayed close, gently holding her arm.
"Do you want some water?" Clementine asked softly, offering her bottle. Christa didn't respond.
"Max, I talked to Amir," Lee said grimly. "They're somewhere near Virginia."
I clenched my teeth. "I know. Just focus on your injury."
Nothing ever went the way it should. I slammed my hand against the steering wheel. Lee's condition was deteriorating fast—his chances of surviving were almost nonexistent. I doubted he'd last another day. Virginia was hundreds of miles away, and with the gas we had, we wouldn't even make fifty. Even if we found more fuel, we'd need to drive nonstop for seven or eight hours—assuming nothing went wrong.
In the rearview mirror, I saw Clementine hugging Lee, whispering, "I'm sorry. It's my fault." He gently patted her head, trying to comfort her. Reaching Amir was impossible. Instead, I shifted to Plan B: find a hospital or pharmacy the moment we escaped this goddamn city.
The closer we got to the outskirts, the more undead appeared. At first, there were only a handful. Then dozens. Soon, entire roads were clogged with wandering walkers.
"Max, take a left!" Lee shouted.
I swerved and floored the gas. Undead poured in from every direction, drawn by the engine's roar. Some of them were runners. I drove like a man possessed, dodging some, smashing through others. The closer we got to the exits, the worse it became. Everyone was panicking, myself included, but I refused to stop.
As we neared the edge of the city, close to where I'd hidden my bike, Lee whispered, "What the hell is that?"
Clementine gasped, covering her mouth. Even Christa found her voice. "Oh my God…"
In the distance, a massive horde stretched as far as the eye could see. Left or right, it was nothing but undead, nearly encircling the city. There had to be two or three hundred thousand of them. Every step they took made the ground tremble, their growls thunderous even from afar. At the front, thousands of newly turned runners sprinted toward Savannah.
My heart dropped. There was no way out with a horde like that closing in.
The only option left was to go deeper into Savannah and try to escape from the other side.
I spun the truck around. The undead we'd been outrunning were now dangerously close, nearly grabbing the bumper. Without thinking, I turned down another street only to find it blocked as well.
"Fuck this!" I shouted and plowed straight through.
Bodies slammed into the truck. Hands clawed at the doors and hood. A few managed to latch on, but Lee, Clementine, and Christa fought them off. Still, more undead poured in from side streets, swelling the horde behind us.
One walker clung to the hood, snarling and clawing at the windshield. I jerked the wheel until it finally tumbled off. Fewer blocked our path ahead, but countless more chased us from behind.
"Max, what do we do?" Clementine asked, her voice shaking.
"I don't know," I said, forcing myself to focus. "Just stay alert."
She nodded, gripping the bat with trembling hands.
Somehow, we broke through and reached an exit road. I was about to keep going—then I slammed on the brakes.
Ahead of us, thousands of walkers filled the road, slowly advancing toward the city. Every exit was sealed. From a distance, I could see massive groups splitting off and shifting toward other escape routes, cutting them off one by one. The enormous horde we'd seen earlier was breaking apart into smaller waves, surrounding Savannah and blocking anyone from escaping.
Fear crawled up my spine. I'd seen hordes before, but never like this. And then I understood the difference: numbers. The larger the horde, the smarter it became.
My father's words echoed in my head. When the undead gather in large numbers, they begin to think like a hive.
I hadn't grasped how terrifying that was until now.
There was no escape from Savannah. And in minutes, the city would be bombed.
"Fuck!" I shouted, yanking the wheel and veering onto another road, praying it wasn't blocked.
"Max… are we going to be okay?" Clementine asked.
I didn't answer. I just pushed the truck harder, eyes locked on the road.
"Don't worry," Lee said softly. "Everything will be okay."
"Can't you see we're all going to die?" Christa snapped, a twisted smile on her face. "Every exit is blocked."
"Why would you say that now?" Lee shot back .
"It's the truth," she said flatly. "We can't leave, can't stay. We're all doomed either way."
Tears welled in her eyes, and Lee bit back his response.
"Max," he asked quietly, "do you have a plan?"
I didn't. And Christa was right. Stay, and the city would be bombed. Run, and the undead would tear us apart.
"I've got nothing," I admitted as the horde continued to close in.
"Shit," Lee muttered, clenching his fists as he looked at Clementine and then at me with hopelessness.
"Lee! Max!" Clementine suddenly said. "What if we hide in the sewers? Like before!"
The idea hit me instantly.
The sewers would hide us from the horde and shield us from the bombs. We could wait it out, maybe even find another way out through the tunnels. In our panic, both Lee and I completely forgot about the sewer.
"Clementine, you're a genius," I said, a surge of hope breaking through my panic.
Her face flushed. "I—I just thought—"
"Great job, Clem," Lee said, smiling.
I look for the nearest manhole.
Then reality hit.
The moment we stopped the truck, the horde behind us would be on top of us. They'd tear us apart before we even had time to climb out—before we could even lift the manhole cover.
===
Some readers were confused about the zombies, so here's a brief explanation to help clarify things.
There are only three changes I made to the zombies that are different from the original Walking Dead zombies.
1. If anybody turns into a zombie, they will retain their motor functions for 24 hours. After that, they will become regular zombies.
2. All regular Zombies will move at the speed of an average person jogging or speed walking.
3. Zombies will act as a hive mind when in massive groups. They will behave like ants in a colony. Depending on the size of the horde, they will be able to coordinate attacks, climb walls, and avoid traps. Basically, the larger the horde, the more intelligent they become.
This does not mean they can make tools or form complex plans. As I mentioned earlier, they behave like ants when they are in massive groups. They aren't super intelligent, but they also aren't mindless creatures.
Their intelligence is instinctive, not strategic. In large hordes, they can coordinate movements, overwhelm defenses, climb over obstacles, and avoid obvious traps through collective behavior rather than individual thinking. The larger the horde, the more effective and dangerous this coordination becomes, but they still lack creativity, reasoning, or long-term planning.