Zane slipped deeper into the darkness, his flashlight slicing through the dense, musty tunnel air. He wasn't the scared kid anymore; he was a machine of stealth and slaughter. The groans were constant, but he moved like a shadow, relying on the muscle memory he'd acquired from... you know, video games.
Most of the Walkers were trapped in the train cars or side tunnels, but Zane dealt with the few on the tracks. The plan was to clear a kilometer or so—enough for the group, slow because of the injured and the children, to make progress.
Each CHUCK of his machete against the rotten flesh was swallowed by the tunnel's echoes. He'd decapitate one, then spin and sever the spine of the next. The heads fell, and the bodies remained on the ground, lifeless.
He advanced several hundred meters, feeling the weight of responsibility for the dozen lives behind him. Then he saw it.
About two hundred meters away, the darkness ended in a tangle of twisted metal. A passenger train was completely overturned on the tracks, blocking the tunnel entirely, like a steel plug sealing off the underground.
Zane cursed under his breath and approached the mass of steel. He used his flashlight to inspect it. There was no way around; the space between the train and the tunnel wall was too narrow for the wounded to pass. He tried looking underneath and over, but the blockage was absolute.
He moved toward the front cabin. Visibility was almost nil, but the noise was... too much. A dull, constant roar came from the other side of the wreck. When he shone his flashlight into the opening, he only saw a tide of bodies piled up against the overturned train.
A chill went through his body. Though his strength was formidable and his machete skill was that of a master, his body was mortal. He couldn't fight an army. Trying to get through there wouldn't be heroism; it would be mass suicide.
Zane turned around, looking like a failed scout. He desperately searched the tunnel walls, finding only the typical maintenance niches. Finally, he located a small, rusty metal door labeled "Emergency Exit / Salida de Emergencia" in Spanish and English.
He pushed it. It was locked tight. He had no idea where that exit led or how far they would have to walk once they got out.
With a heavy heart, he knew he had to go back.
A moment later, instead of finding the group waiting where he'd left them, he saw them cautiously moving toward him. Chloe was in front, a trembling knife in her hand, and Liam limped, leaning against the wall. Sarah and the other women supported the wounded and the children.
"Zane! What's wrong? Why are you coming back?" Chloe asked, her voice strained.
Zane gestured for absolute silence. He waited until the last sound had died out.
"The tunnel is blocked," Zane hissed, pointing into the darkness. "There's an overturned train. And behind it... it's insane. There are too many to get past. Now I understand why there are so few zombies in this area—they are all trapped on the other side of the accident."
Chloe and Liam exchanged a look.
"We'll do whatever you say, Zane. If you say we stay, we stay," Chloe said, her confidence in him absolute.
"Yeah, whatever. There's no way I'm separating from the guy who decapitates people with video games," Liam joked, trying to lighten the mood, but his voice was shaky.
Zane felt the weight of the decision. "The problem is I only found one emergency exit. It's locked, and I don't know where it would let us out. We could pop out right in the middle of a surface horde or out in the countryside."
It was then that one of the injured men spoke. It was Mark, Sarah's husband, leaning on an improvised crutch. His leg was bandaged, but his face was clear.
"Excuse me, Zane. Did you say it was Line 4 that's blocked?" Mark asked hoarsely. "I... I used to work for the subway. That's why my wife brought me here. I was traveling home with her when everything went to hell."
Zane nodded. "Yeah. Overturned."
"If that's the case, the emergency exit for this section must connect to [Main Street of Eternal Avenue, near Police Station District 14]," Mark said, his voice gaining confidence. "If we walk the opposite way, through the service route, there's a ventilation one that leads directly into a small alley. That gets us out near the center, and gives us a route to the police station."
Zane analyzed the information. It was a risk, but staying in the tunnel guaranteed a slow death. "Alright. It's better than walking the whole way on the surface. We're going out. Back to the surface."
Mark nodded with a weak smile and limped toward the maintenance door. "Luckily, employees have a master key for these accesses."
A few minutes later, Mark turned the key with a dry CLACK. The door opened, revealing a narrow staircase ascending toward the gray light of the afternoon.
The group climbed cautiously. Stepping out into the alley, the air was cold and carried the scent of ash and decay. But unlike the street they had left behind, this was different.
In front of them, on the main avenue, the number of dead was terrifying. There were thousands of Walkers dragging themselves, a slow but unstoppable mass. Fortunately, they were all facing away from the alley, attracted by some noise or light further away.
Zane gritted his teeth. He whispered, his voice barely audible: "No one breathes hard. No one makes a sound. If they see us, we're done. We're going to move in the shadows. Mark, where are we?"
"Near the old Police Station District 14," Mark whispered, pointing to a brick building two blocks away.
Zane looked at the building. It was wrecked, with overturned police cars.
"Police station," Zane muttered. "There might be... firearms. Shotguns, ammo. Something to give us an edge on the surface. It's risky, but if we're going to walk through all this, we need more than just steel."
The group looked at him. Chloe and Liam nodded firmly. Sarah pressed her lips together, then nodded.
"We go to the police station. And we'll be as quiet as ghosts," Zane ordered, and the group began to move, sticking to the walls, in a game of survival where a simple sneeze could be a death sentence.