"Chris, Garrick, Skinny Pete, Mia—you four fall back and rest. The rest of us, keep killing!" Ethan ordered, voice tight.
"Got it."
No one hesitated. The moment their names were called, the four peeled off and retreated to the rear. The others immediately stepped up to fill the gaps.
With half the team out, the pressure doubled.
But no one complained. The five remaining held the line, blocking the endless stream of zombies pouring from the tunnel, buying time for the others to recover.
The battle dragged on for over an hour.
By now, they'd killed at least ten thousand zombies. The highway was buried under a thick layer of corpses, and countless more had tumbled off the edge into the ravine below.
Up on the mountain, the mutated Bengal tiger remained motionless, crouched in the grass, watching.
Patient. Calculating.
Like a true predator, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
