[Damn it! How did I end up with such a stubborn fool!] Sam cursed inwardly, looking at John's determined profile, set as if heading towards a glorious sacrifice.
In TV shows, these overly righteous, duty-bound tough-guy cops might look cool, but they usually didn't last past the first episode.
And now, this idiot was dragging him along into a nest of monsters to die.
Those things earlier were fast, god knows if they could climb walls like spiders.
Sam's gaze turned dark and cold.
[Talk him out of it? Impossible. Hijack the car at gunpoint? He's an experienced cop, also armed. Too risky, too many variables. So, the only reliable option…]
His right hand unconsciously drifted back to his holster, the cold grip of the pistol stirring a dark impulse rather than providing comfort.
[…is to find a chance, take him out cleanly. At the next intersection, when he slows down for the turn… aim for the back of his head… Then, steal the car, escape! The opposite direction should lead out of the city. The gas tank should have enough to get me far away… Figure things out from there…]
His fingertips trembled slightly with the terrible thought, the pressure on the gun grip increasing, almost acting on that dark resolve.
Just then, John, who had been silent, suddenly spoke.
His voice was deliberately slow, trying to ease the tense atmosphere in the car.
"Hey, Sam, don't be so wound up. Honestly, for your first time out, handling this kind of situation… you're doing pretty damn well. Better than… better than when I first started."
John seemed to want to distract them both by sharing, his gaze drifting into the past as his voice softened.
"Remember when I was just starting out, still a clueless rookie. One time, me and my first partner responded to a street disturbance call. Got there, found this guy, clearly mentally unstable, clutching a rusty knife, yelling curses at everyone. We followed procedure, kept our distance, warned him loudly, told him to drop the knife…"
"But he completely ignored us. Seeing our uniforms seemed to set him off even more. He let out this weird shriek and charged right at me."
John sighed softly, almost imperceptibly.
"Too close, warnings failed, my partner didn't have a clear line of sight… I had to shoot. That was my first time… you know, the first time actually shooting a living person, watching him fall right in front of me, blood pooling everywhere."
"Afterwards… I was numb. My hands were shaking so bad I had to rewrite the simplest report several times."
His voice dropped lower, tinged with a vulnerability he perhaps didn't even realize he was showing.
"Don't let my calm act now fool you, kid. That night, after I got home, I buried my face in my pillow… and cried. Cried like an idiot, so damn embarrassing."
He tried to dispel the heaviness with self-deprecation, turning to Sam with a forced smile, gesturing to himself with his thumb.
"Can you imagine? A guy my size, hiding under the covers blubbering? If the bastards back at the station ever found out, they'd probably laugh about it until I retired."
"And then," John's voice held a trace of weariness now, shaking his head slightly, "that homeless guy, suddenly he had a whole bunch of so-called family members crawl out of the woodwork, suing me for excessive force. Said I should've seen he was mentally ill, should've kept my distance, tried to talk him down… Anyway, that whole mess dragged on for a long time."
He sighed again.
"Now, years later, here I am, just an old cop."
He tapped his badge.
He seemed to force the conversation away from the grim memories, injecting forced optimism.
"Listen, young man, this riot crap will end. Things will get back to normal. I'm sure you'll make it off probation, no problem. When you do, you gotta come over to my place. I have some good whiskey I've been saving, we can have a good celebration. I also have a beautiful wife and daughter – although my daughter's been a bit rebellious lately, she's still a good girl. I'll let you meet them then, after all, you're the first rookie I've brought out."
Then, John reached over and gave Sam's shoulder a solid pat, his voice regaining some of its usual confidence.
"Relax, partner. I'll cover you out there. Stick close behind me. I might not be the best shot in the world, but I took third place in the department's shooting competition this year."
Sam didn't respond.
His hand, which had been gripping the pistol tightly, unconsciously, slowly relaxed after John's hand left his shoulder.
[…Damn it.] Sam cursed silently, a wave of inexplicable frustration washing over him.
He realized now… he couldn't bring himself to do what he'd planned.
He could only stare silently ahead, watching helplessly as the police car carried him and this stubborn "good guy" deeper into the heart of the chaos and danger downtown.
They had only driven a few more blocks when the scene outside transformed drastically, as if switching channels.
The usual city noise was replaced by a horrifying symphony of shrill female screams, desperate male cries for help, and the terrified wails of children.
Distant, sporadic gunshots began to echo between the buildings, sometimes single pops, sometimes bursts of automatic fire, adding a layer of doomsday despair.
Worse still, twisted, shambling figures started appearing on the streets in ones and twos, wandering aimlessly or… drawn by the scent of the living.
The moment they spotted the patrol car, still flashing its lights like prey, their clouded eyes seemed to ignite with frenzied aggression.
They let out a chorus of guttural gurgles and charged recklessly, throwing themselves against the speeding car with suicidal abandon.
Heads, shoulders, bodies slammed into the vehicle with sickening, teeth-jarring THUDS! THUDS! THUDS! like a pack of bloodthirsty beasts trying to rip open a tin can to devour the meat inside.
Dark red splatters appeared on the windows.
"Damn it" John cursed under his breath, gripping the steering wheel tightly, expertly weaving through the lunging figures, making sharp, evasive maneuvers.
He had to avoid direct collisions as much as possible – the front end of this standard patrol car wouldn't withstand repeated impacts with these seemingly pain-immune monsters.
A few solid hits and they'd likely be stranded here.
Meanwhile, countless private cars streamed past them in the opposite direction like a plague evacuation, ignoring traffic laws, desperately fleeing towards the city outskirts, engines screaming.
The police car felt like a stubborn little boat fighting its way upstream against a raging black tide of fear and despair, heading straight into the heart of the storm.
"Help me—AHHH!!" Suddenly, a bloodcurdling scream ripped through the air from the ground-floor entrance of an apartment building on their right.
A young woman in a white dress, face streaked with tears and terror, stumbled out of the doorway.
She didn't make it more than a few steps before a figure, also clad in that hideous purple, lurking in the shadows by the entrance, lunged like a predator, tackling her to the ground with shocking speed.
The woman let out one short, hopeless cry before the creature pinned her down, head bent low, savagely biting at her vulnerable neck.
Bright, tragically beautiful crimson rapidly bloomed across the pristine white fabric…
John instinctively slammed on the brakes, the car lurching.
He stared, frozen for a second, witnessing the horrific, real-time tragedy unfold just meters away.
Time seemed to freeze.
Then, he gritted his teeth hard, a flicker of pain and resolve in his eyes, and stomped on the accelerator again.
Sam's earlier words about "one bite and it's over" echoed coldly in his mind – rushing over now wouldn't save the girl.
In this unclear situation, he chose to trust his partner's words for now, and stopping would only get them both killed here.
He had to… keep going.
Towards the deeper hell ahead.
The patrol car screeched around another corner, John braking sharply again.
Just ahead, another police car was parked diagonally across the road, its lights flashing silently but blindingly, illuminating a chaotic scene: a male officer stood with his back to them, handgun blazing, muzzle flashes flickering in the dim street as he tried to suppress several shambling figures attempting to close in.
On the side of that police car, a female officer was desperately trying to shove a heavily pregnant, clearly terrified woman into the back seat.
Just then, two more lurching figures burst out from a dark alley to their side, letting out guttural growls as they charged straight for the female officer and the pregnant woman she was protecting.
The male officer up front was now firing at several zombies running towards them at high speed, unable to turn and help.
The female officer reacted instantly, firing her own weapon almost as the figures appeared.
BANG!
She dropped the first one, but the second was already upon them, claws outstretched.
John stopped the car instantly, just three meters away from the female officer.
Sam didn't even wait for an order.
He shoved his door open, quickly bringing his Glock up to target the threat.
BANG! BANG!
Two crisp, steady shots.
Both bullets found the last creature's head.
It froze mid-lunge, then collapsed like a sack of wet cement at the feet of the female officer and the pregnant woman.
['Good thing I practiced at the club,'] Sam thought briefly.
System Notification: Zombie Kill x1 Confirmed. Hope Points +5. Quest "Zombie Killer" Progress: 1/100.
The pale blue text silently materialized in his vision, confirming his kill, then faded just as quickly.
Seeing the immediate threat neutralized, the female officer didn't hesitate.
She shoved the pregnant woman fully into the back seat, slammed the door shut, and dove into the driver's seat like lightning.
At the same time, the male officer yelled at the top of his lungs, "Lina! Drive! Get her out of here! Now! Head for the safe zone outside the city! I'll ride with them!"
The female officer, Lina, glanced at him quickly in the rearview mirror, gave a sharp nod, then floored the gas.
The police car roared, tires spitting gravel and dust as it executed a rough U-turn and shot away like an arrow, heading out of downtown, presumably towards the suburbs, quickly disappearing around the corner.
The male officer, after yelling, immediately turned back and sprinted towards John and Sam's car.
He yanked open the rear door, scrambled inside agilely, bringing the smell of gunpowder and sweat with him, and slammed the door shut.
Panting heavily, he then said to John and Sam, "Head downtown now, to Main Street Elementary!"