Noah Carter moved through the ruined grocery store like a man who had already died once and refused to do it again.The air smelled like old sugar and wet cardboard. The freezers had been dead for weeks. The place should have been empty.But nothing stayed empty anymore.He kept his steps light because sound was currency now, and he was broke.He passed a toppled display of cereal, then stopped at the pharmacy corner. The gate was half open, bent from someone forcing it.Good. Someone else had paid the price.He slid inside and checked the shelves fast. Bandages were gone. Pain pills were gone. Antibiotics were a myth.All that was left was a dusty bottle of iodine and two packs of gauze shoved behind cough drops.He took both and stuffed them into his jacket.A low scrape came from the next aisle. Slow. Heavy.Noah froze. He listened.Another scrape. Then a wet breath.Not human.He eased his hand down to the metal pipe tucked along his thigh. The pipe was short, wrapped with tape for grip.He didn't like guns indoors. One shot could turn a quiet day into a funeral.He peeked around the shelf edge.A zombie stood between the canned beans and the cooking oil. Its head was tilted like it was trying to remember what a store used to be.Its jaw hung open. Saliva dripped onto the floor in long strings.Noah watched the hands first. They were shaking, not from fear, but from hunger that never stopped.He stepped back and looked for an exit route. The back door was behind him, but the hallway was narrow.If more were there, he'd be trapped.The zombie's head twitched. It sniffed.Noah felt his pulse spike. The dead didn't think, but they learned patterns like dogs.He gripped the pipe, then moved in a straight line, fast and silent.One swing. Full force.The pipe hit the side of the skull with a dull thud.The zombie didn't drop.Noah's eyes narrowed. That should have been enough last month.The thing lurched, barely slowed, and its teeth snapped at his forearm.Noah yanked back, but the bite grazed his sleeve and ripped cloth.He cursed under his breath and swung again, this time at the temple.The skull didn't crack. It sounded thick, like hitting a brick with steel."Of course," he whispered. "You got harder."The zombie pushed forward like it didn't feel pain at all, because it didn't.Noah stepped into it, shoved his shoulder into the rotten chest, and pinned it against the shelf.Cans rattled and rolled. The sound echoed through the store.Too loud.He didn't have time.Noah drove the pipe down under the zombie's jaw, aiming up.The metal punched through soft tissue and hit bone. The zombie jerked. Its arms flailed.Noah leaned his weight into it, grinding until the pipe broke into the brain.The body went limp like a puppet with cut strings.Noah held it for a second longer anyway, because the dead loved to fake you out.Then he let it drop.He didn't celebrate.A kill was not a win. It was a door opening to worse things.He knelt and forced himself to do the part that mattered.Crystal.He pulled the pipe free and braced the corpse's head against the floor.He used the pipe like a chisel and hit it with his boot heel.The skull finally gave with a sharp crack.Dark fluid oozed out. The smell hit him like a punch.He gagged once, then kept going.He pried the broken bone apart with trembling fingers until he saw it.A small shard, deep red, half buried in meat.It looked like glass, but it didn't reflect light like glass. It drank it.Noah pinched it between two fingers and lifted it out.The crystal was warm.It pulsed once against his skin, like a heartbeat that wasn't his.His mouth went dry. Hunger crawled up his spine.That's the trap, he told himself. That's always the trap.He shoved the crystal into a plastic bag, then into his pocket.In the same second, the store answered his greed.A distant crash came from the front entrance.A chorus of wet footsteps followed.More of them.Noah stood and backed toward the rear hallway. He didn't run yet. Running made noise.He moved fast instead, controlled, and kept his pipe ready.He slipped into the hallway and shut the pharmacy gate as quietly as he could, even though it wouldn't stop anything.It was just a lie to buy time.He reached the back door and pushed it open a crack.Cold air hit his face. It smelled like smoke and rain.Then he heard a whisper close to his ear."Don't move."Noah stopped so hard his muscles screamed.A blade touched the side of his throat. Not deep, but enough.He could feel the person behind him breathing, steady and calm.Human.He lifted both hands slowly, pipe still in his right grip, kept low."Easy," he said. "I'm leaving.""Sure you are," a female voice said. Young. Sharp. "After you took something."Noah's eyes flicked to the cracked door. Alley outside. Narrow. Two dumpsters. No clean escape.He could fight, but fighting here meant blood, and blood meant noise.The blade pressed a little harder."Turn your pockets out," she said. "Now."Noah swallowed. His throat felt like sand.He turned a little, careful not to slice himself, and saw her in the dim light.Small frame. Hoodie. Dirt-streaked cheek. Eyes that didn't blink.A crossbow was slung over her shoulder.And she was watching his hands, not his face.Smart."No," Noah said.Her smile was quick and mean. "Wrong answer."She pulled the blade back, ready to cut.Noah moved first.He snapped his left elbow back hard, catching her ribs. Not a full strike. Just enough to break balance.He spun, pipe rising, but she dropped low and rolled away like she'd done it a hundred times.The blade stayed in her hand."Okay," she said, breathing faster now. "You're not slow."Noah didn't answer. He listened past her.The wet footsteps were closer.The dead were entering the hallway.They both heard it.The girl's eyes shifted for half a second toward the store.Fear flashed there, then got buried under greed."You got a crystal," she said. "I smelled it."Noah's stomach tightened. That should have been impossible.But nothing about crystals was normal."You want it," he said."I need it," she corrected. "Same thing."A guttural moan erupted from the other side of the hallway door.Wood scraped. Nails dragged.Noah made a choice in one breath."Help me get out," he said. "Then we talk.""Talk is cheap.""So is dying," Noah said.The girl hesitated. Not because she trusted him, but because she knew math.Then she jerked her head toward the alley."Move," she said. "If you're lying, I'll cut you anyway."Noah pushed the door open and stepped into the alley.Rain had turned the ground into black mud. Trash floated in puddles.A faded billboard above the street showed smiling faces selling a life that didn't exist now.They moved together, not as allies, but as two predators sharing a hunt.The girl stayed two steps behind him, blade ready, watching his pockets.Noah kept his pipe up and his eyes on the corners.They reached the alley mouth.A zombie stumbled into view from the street, drawn by the earlier noise.Noah raised the pipe.But the girl fired first.The crossbow snapped. The bolt hit the zombie in the face and lodged deep.The zombie didn't drop. It kept coming, wobbling, mouth open.The girl cursed. "It used to work."Noah didn't waste time. He stepped in and swung at the base of the skull.This time, the zombie's head jerked sideways and cracked against the curb.It went down.Noah didn't kneel for the crystal. Not here. Not exposed.He grabbed the girl's sleeve and pulled her back into the alley."What are you doing?" she hissed."Staying alive," he said. "Crystals can wait."She yanked free. "No, they can't."She lunged toward the corpse.Noah caught her arm."You go out there, you get seen," he said. "Then you get hunted."She stared at him like he'd insulted her.Then a new sound cut through the rain.A slow clap.Noah's blood went cold.Three men stepped out from behind a wrecked sedan at the street corner.Not zombies. Not Authority uniforms.Just survivors with weapons and empty eyes.The one in front had a shotgun held loose at his hip like he didn't care if it went off."Look at this," the man said. "Two little rats fighting over scraps."The girl's blade lifted. Her shoulders tightened.Noah didn't move.He counted. Three men. One shotgun. One machete. One pistol.They had watched. They had waited.They were here for the crystal, even if they didn't know it yet.The shotgun man smiled wider."Hand over what you got," he said. "And you can walk away."The girl's gaze flicked to Noah's pocket.She was calculating.If she took his crystal and ran, she might escape.Or she might get shot in the back.Noah felt the moment stretch, thin as wire.He made the first dirty move.He reached into his pocket, slow, like he was obeying.The shotgun man leaned forward, greedy.Noah pulled out the crystal bag.The red shard gleamed, even in the rain.All three men's eyes locked on it like hunger had a shape.Noah tossed it sideways into the street.The men flinched and turned as one.Noah swung his pipe into the pistol man's wrist.Bone cracked. The pistol clattered into a puddle.The machete man lunged, blade flashing.Noah ducked, but the edge sliced his shoulder. Hot pain burst, then blood soaked his sleeve.He gritted his teeth and slammed the pipe into the man's throat.The machete man gagged and stumbled back, dropping his weapon.The shotgun man recovered fast. Too fast.He pivoted and raised the barrel.Noah saw the death in it, close and sure.The girl moved.She threw her knife.It sank into the shotgun man's forearm. He screamed and fired anyway.The blast tore the air, loud enough to wake the whole block.Pellets hit the brick wall beside Noah's head and sprayed dust into his eyes.Noah blinked through grit and grabbed the fallen pistol from the puddle.He didn't aim. He just pointed and pulled.One shot.The shotgun man's head snapped back. He dropped hard.The last man ran, not brave anymore, just alive.Noah didn't chase. Chasing was how you died in open streets.But the damage was done.The gunshot rolled out across the ruined city like a dinner bell.From three directions, moans answered.The girl sprinted toward the crystal in the street.Noah grabbed her hood and dragged her back."Are you insane?" he snapped."I'm not dying for nothing," she shot back.Her hands clawed at his grip. She fought like a cornered cat.Noah's shoulder burned. Blood dripped down his arm and mixed with rain.The moans got closer.He made another choice.He shoved her against the wall, close enough to smell her sweat and fear."If you want it," he said, voice low, "then you absorb it right now."Her eyes widened. "What?""You said you need it," Noah said. "Prove it."She glanced toward the street again. The zombies were coming.Then she looked at him. "You first."Noah almost laughed. Almost.He reached into his pocket and pulled the crystal bag out again. His fingers shook, not from fear, but from craving.He opened the bag.The crystal pulsed once, like it knew he was weak.Noah pressed it to his tongue.The moment it touched him, it melted into heat.It slid down his throat like burning metal.His body tried to reject it.He bent over, choking, and the world snapped bright.His hearing exploded first. Rain became needles. Far footsteps became thunder.Then pain hit his spine like a hammer.He convulsed. His knees slammed into the mud.Blood poured from his nose, warm and thick.He heard the girl say something, but her voice was too loud, too close, like she was shouting inside his skull.A memory cut across his mind without permission.White lights. A plastic strap on his wrist. A man in a clean mask saying, "Subject is awake."Then the memory shattered, leaving only a name stamped in his chest.Cross.Noah coughed and spat dark saliva into the puddle.He forced himself up, shaking.His eyes locked onto the street.The nearest zombie was already turning the corner.It moved faster than the others.Its head looked wrong, like the bone had grown thicker, smoother.Noah's heart slammed.He raised the pipe, but his hands were unsteady.The upgrade was there, screaming through his nerves, but so was the cost.He could hear too much. See too much. Think too fast.It was like his brain was trying to sprint while his body crawled.The girl stared at him, half disgust, half awe."You're… you're a freak," she whispered.Noah wiped his nose with his sleeve and left a red smear."Not a good time," he said.A sharp buzz cut through the rain.Not a phone. Not a radio.Something above.Noah looked up.A drone hovered over the street, black and steady, its camera eye turning.A thin red light swept across the alley mouth, scanning.Noah felt his stomach drop.Authority.The drone's speaker crackled, cold and flat."Unregistered movement detected. Stand by for confirmation."The red scan line passed over Noah's face.It paused.Then the drone shifted closer, like it had smelled blood.The speaker crackled again."Match probability: high."Noah's vision tunneled. His pulse hammered in his ears.The girl's hand tightened on his sleeve."What did you do?" she hissed.Noah didn't answer.Because in that second, the drone's camera locked onto him, and the red light turned into a steady beam.And somewhere beyond the street, engines started.
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