The night was still ongoing, but the inky blackness of night was already being dyed by the approaching rise of the sun on the horizon.
As the dark of night stretched across the sky endlessly being chased by the sun, the dark created silhouettes of the cityscape, and the burning city was revealed in all its horrifying glory as the ongoing flames continued to reveal the ongoing destruction.
From the rooftop of the fortress, Carter and his warriors watched the skyline after catching a few brief hours of sleep, their expressions grim, their eyes fixed on the chaos still unfolding beyond their walls.
The fires that had been billowing smoke throughout the day now glowed like beacons of destruction, illuminating the once-great city in a grim funeral pyre.
Walkers swarmed through the streets, their shadows twisting in the firelight, a horde that never rested, never stopped, never wavered.
And in the distance, the sound of distant screams and sporadic gunfire echoed like the last cries of a dying world.
Humanity was falling apart.
And yet, here, within the fortified walls of the condominium complex, there was still order, what little there was to be had.
There was still power as well since the main grid had not yet failed them.
The survivors inside the compound were grateful for their salvation.
Grateful to the "response teams" that had driven back the undead.
Grateful to the Ancient Pharaoh's Guard that now patrolled the grounds, their golden breastplates reflecting the torchlight, their curved khopesh swords resting at their sides, their hawk-like eyes ever watchful.
Grateful to the warriors of prehistory, the cavemen hunters who had fought like unstoppable beasts, their stone clubs stained with blackened blood, their muscular forms looming in the night.
But gratitude was fleeting.
Because now, not even a few hours later the weak began making demands.
Fools—blind to reality—demanded that Carter's forces "eliminate all the zombies in the city."
Others, clinging to naive hope, demanded immediate search-and-rescue missions for their friends and family, even when those people were likely long dead.
And still more, desperate to escape, begged for an evacuation to some mythical bunker or safe zone that most likely never existed to begin with.
Carter watched it all going on from screen of his laptop, watching the camera feeds from his 'war room', within his own suite in building C, his expression unreadable.
These people...
They had no idea how close they had come to death.
They had no concept of what it took to survive in this new world.
And soon, they would become more dangerous than the undead themselves.
Perhaps it was better simply to take Sam with him and abandon these ingrates to their fate.
Becoming like nomads as they form a war band carving a blood soaked path to the university, before moving on never stopping to save those who'd just as quickly turn round and berate their saviors.
As the Cyber Specialist of their little army he worked tirelessly, combing through the remnants of the internet, the scale of the disaster became clearer.
✔️ North America's great cities had gone dark.
✔️ Rural towns were faring better—but were isolated and cut off from one another with the ongoing struggle still happening against the undead.
✔️ Meanwhile the rest of the world had fallen silent.
And then, he found it.
The most terrifying discovery yet in his hunt for information.
Every single website hosted outside of North America had gone dark, as if they never existed in the first place.
There was no new data coming in from Europe, Asia, South America, Africa, or Australia.
No updates.
No posts.
No signals.
Nothing.
As if the rest of the world had vanished overnight.
Or worse...
As if something was cutting them off on purpose.
~
However the fight did not end as the scientific community was still active releasing information online in an attempt to spread whatever they could about what was going on
One of those scientific reports online revealed a chilling discovery:
The infection had an origin point.
✔️ Every initial infected had O+ blood.
✔️ And thanks to a quick search it was easy to find that O+ was the most common blood type in the world.
✔️ Nearly 50% of humanity had turned in an instant into the undead.
The rest?
They turned at different rates—depending on their blood types it seemed.
A+ → Turned within minutes after being bitten.
B+ → Turned after an hour of becoming infected.
AB+ → Could survive for several hours before succumbing to the infection.
O- / A- → Still being studied, as those who'd been infected could as of yet only be confirmed to be infected but not yet turned even after hours of being in such a state.
Only two blood types were confirmed to be immune:
✔️ AB-
✔️ B-
And even worse?
A blood transfusion from an immune individual did not cure the infection.
It only prevented reanimation.
A toxin to the undead, not a cure.
The biological horror of this revelation sent a cold chill down Carter's spine.
~
Carter leaned back in his chair, staring at the half-eaten food in his hand.
A few hours ago, he had accepted the reward for his first mission 1,000 units of food, thankfully the food provided was modern military MRE or Meals-Ready-To-Eat, while other foods could still be purchased through the system but they were preservation of the ancient era, mainly salt dried meats, from both land and sea, and dried fruits such as raisins luckily though the best of all the available was ancient alcohol, a sort of cross between beer and liquid bread.
While harsh to consume with a modern palete, a single bottle was 15% alcohol with all the calories and nutrients of your favorite grandma's turkey dinner.
Thanks to this knowledge even while having the 1,000 meals to begin with, he could acquire more food to support his growing numbers
✔️ 50 meals per crate, with a cost of only 1,000 Dollars
✔️ 5,000 dollars spent on upkeep, currently to feed all his current troops.
And yet, despite the sterile bland taste of the barely seasoned food, despite the reminder that the world was collapsing, he ate the same rations as his warriors, choosing to save the MRE's for the future, and thankfully the system let him store the crates into something like an inventory to prevent them from being raided and stolen.
If working as a 9-5 office drone had taught him anything about how a leader should act it was.
✔️ Lead by example.
✔️ Show no weakness.
The war room was alive with conversation, warriors laughing and boasting, telling tales of their heroics as they all imbibed the provided food and drink seated around his home.
Some of the Egyptian warriors spoke of how the commoners viewed them as gods, even though they showed disdain for the one who lead them, as if the past had returned to reclaim its rightful place, the soldiers were revered while the king was despised.
The cavemen, though fewer now, remained among them, their primitive speech mixing with the soldiers of the Old Kingdom, sharing food, drink, and stories in their own strange way.
And yet, beneath the camaraderie, Carter could see it.
The coming storm.
Because outside these walls, the world was still dying, and once they tried to leave these fortified walls behind it was highly likely the number of fallen in his ranks would increase drastically since they would have little to no control outside these walls.
And Rachael was still trapped in that chaos.
Carter leaned forward, his eyes locked on the system menu hovering before him.
✔️ He still had over 4.5 million dollars to spend.
✔️ He could summon more troops, vehicles, or supplies.
✔️ But how could he most effectively use this money to reach his sister?
She was five kilometres away.
✔️ Five kilometres of undead-infested streets.
✔️ Five kilometres of collapsed buildings, burning cars, and desperate survivors.
✔️ Five kilometres separating him from saving his last remaining family in the city.
And that wasn't even the worst part.
Because even if she was still alive…
She was surrounded by monsters.
Not just zombies.
Humans.
~
Rachael sat against the wall, her arms wrapped around her legs, her eyes glued to the darkened phone screen in her hands.
The last thing she had seen before it powered off?
The President of the United States being devoured alive.
The government was gone.
The military was gone.
The police were gone.
No one was coming.
And now, as she sat there, she could feel the shift in the room.
The way Logan and his friends were watching.
The way they had moved the food supply under their control, while the others noticed it to late.
The way they had begun gathering supplies and creating makeshift weapons.
They weren't going to wait for death.
They were going to take control.
And she knew exactly what they wanted.
Her stomach twisted as she watched them exchange silent glances, their predatory eyes flickering toward the group of huddled girls, who'd become more and more isolated as Logans group numbers started to swell with those agreeing to join him.
Logan leaned back, his smirk widening.
"Well, boys… looks like we're the kings of the world now."
Derrick chuckled.
Kyle cracked his knuckles.
Logan's eyes darkened as he glanced at Rachael.
"And I think it's about time we start making the rules."
The door to their prison was locked.
The hallway was filled with Walkers.
And no one was coming to save them.
Or at least…
That's what they thought.
~
Back at the fortress, Carter stood within the grounds, staring at the burning city he could see through the main gate.
Behind him, the Pharaoh's Guard kneeled, their golden armor glinting under the moonlight, and the rising sun at their backs, awaiting his orders.
Beside them, the remaining cavemen warriors tightened their grips on their clubs, their primal instincts sensing the bloodshed to come, and willing to serve themselves up as sacrifices for their Chief.
Carter exhaled, his hands clenching into fists.
"Prepare the chariots. We're moving out!"
His sister was waiting.
And there was nothing in this world that would stop him from reaching her.
With a unified shout of agreement, the guard started to move, they had a plan, one to draw the undead from the gate enough to allow the rescue party to begin their journey through hell to save their lords flesh and blood.
Sam was being left as the 2nd in command with authority to command the defending forces in his absence, Sam knew something special was going on since why else would these hundreds of strange people follow Carter's orders but he chose not to make waves, better to stick close to the one with a solution than force the issue and get cast aside for being an annoyance.