Meanwhile, on the other side of the battlefield.
Bang!
There was a loud explosion. A stream of smoke rose to the sky. The ground turned black and full of cracks.
The seven chosen were pinned against the crater's wall. Some of them had strange abilities. One of them could control the wind around him, and the other could control flames. Neither could create the elements, only control them.
That's why in their desperation they used a grenade, knowing the explosion would attract the walkers.
But the zombie before them had to be stopped at all costs.
"Did we do it?" one asked, trying to look through the smoke.
"…"
No one replied. They all hoped the grenade was enough to stop it. However, their hopes were crushed as the smoke cleared.
The four-armed zombie stood intact. It had crossed its arms to protect itself from the shrapnel. Parts of its flesh had melted away, revealing the tough bone underneath, but such wounds affected the living, not the undead.
