Previously on Zombie National…
Ethan and Riley uncovered an underground facility hidden beneath the ruins of Los Angeles — a government lab known only as Project Mistry. What they found inside would shatter everything they thought they knew about the outbreak.
---
The storm raged above ground, unseen but felt through the vibrations echoing down the steel corridors. Every flash of lightning made the ceiling panels tremble, shedding flakes of dust that glimmered under the dim red lights.
Ethan led the way, rifle ready, the air thick with the smell of rust, disinfectant, and something far older — something that hadn't breathed in years.
Behind him, Riley's flashlight beam cut through the dark. Her hands shook slightly, not from fear, but from the electric hum in the walls.
"This place still has power," she whispered. "How's that possible? The city's grid died ages ago."
Ethan's eyes swept over the flickering consoles. "Maybe this isn't running on the city grid." He pointed to a faint blue glow at the end of the hall. "Maybe they built their own."
As they approached, they passed through a corridor of glass — observation chambers. Some were cracked, others shattered. Inside each were remnants of something once human: arms with cables attached, spines floating in strange green fluid, faces half-formed as if sculpted mid-scream.
Riley tried not to look, but one of the chambers still had a blinking light above it.
> SUBJECT 09 — ACTIVE
Her voice came out small. "Ethan, that one's still online."
Before he could respond, the intercom crackled above.
> "You shouldn't have come here."
Both froze. The voice was male. Distorted.
Ethan aimed upward. "Who's there?"
> "I told them this would happen. You can't contain thought once it learns to hunger."
Riley whispered, "That's live audio…"
The lights flickered, once. Twice. Then the humming stopped. The silence that followed was absolute — the kind that screamed in your ears.
A sharp crack shattered it. Glass splintered behind them. Something moved inside the active chamber.
Ethan turned, flashlight raised—
The glass exploded outward. Fluid gushed across the floor, followed by a shape dragging itself from the wreckage.
It looked human at first glance — tall, muscular, skin pale and slick. But then it lifted its head, and they saw the faint golden glow behind its eyes.
Riley stumbled backward. "Ethan—"
The creature looked straight at him.
> "You came back," it said. "Brother."
Ethan froze. His heart slammed against his ribs. "No… no, that's not—"
The thing smiled, a perfect imitation of something human.
> "They brought me back. You left me to die."
Riley looked at Ethan, confusion flashing in her eyes. "Brother?"
He shook his head slowly. "Liam?"
> "You buried me," the creature hissed, stepping closer. "But they dug me up."
Ethan fired. The rifle roared, bullets tearing through the creature's chest — but it didn't fall. It staggered back, looked down at the wounds, and grinned as the holes closed before their eyes.
It lunged. Ethan barely rolled aside. The impact shattered the console behind him, sparks flying in all directions. Riley screamed, firing her pistol. Each shot echoed uselessly off the walls.
Ethan grabbed Riley by the arm. "Move!"
They ran through a side door, slamming it shut behind them. The alarms began to wail.
> CONTAINMENT BREACH DETECTED. CORE ACCESS ENABLED.
They sprinted down another corridor, this one lined with flickering monitors. On one screen, a security feed still worked — showing the upper city in flames.
"This can't be real," Riley panted. "That thing was your brother?"
Ethan didn't answer. His mind was spinning. Liam had died three years ago in Chicago — torn apart during the first infection wave. He'd buried him himself.
And yet, that face… that voice… it was him.
---
Pentagon Outpost – Dr. Alan Royce
Dr. Alan Royce watched the feed from a high-security bunker two thousand miles away. His reflection glared back at him through the glass. Lines of exhaustion carved deep into his face, his eyes hollow from weeks without sleep.
On his monitor, Ethan and Riley appeared as small figures moving through the flickering halls of the Los Angeles facility.
"Ethan Cole," he muttered. "Of all the people to find it…"
The door behind him slid open. Commander Huxley stepped in, her uniform immaculate despite the chaos outside.
"Status?"
Royce hesitated. "They've breached the biogenics sector. Subject 09 is active again."
Her expression didn't change. "Then you know what comes next."
Royce's stomach turned. "You can't. There are still people alive in the quarantine zones. If you trigger Ashfall—"
Huxley's voice was ice. "The city is a corpse, Doctor. Sometimes you burn the body so it doesn't rise again."
He clenched his fists, knuckles white. "Project Mistry was never meant to be a weapon. It was supposed to save people."
"Then you failed," she said, turning to leave. "Prepare the signal."
The door slid shut behind her, leaving Royce staring at the screen. He typed a few lines of code — then stopped. His eyes lingered on Ethan's face.
"God forgive me," he whispered.
---
Back Underground
Riley finally hacked the next door open. "Go, go, go!"
They stumbled into what looked like a control hub — dozens of monitors, all displaying code and data strings. In the center of the room, a cylindrical chamber pulsed with faint blue light.
Ethan stepped closer. "What is this?"
Riley wiped condensation from one of the screens. The text flickered:
> PROJECT MISTRY: HUMAN NEURAL RECONSTRUCTION PROGRAM
STATUS: SUCCESSFUL – SUBJECTS 01-12
PRIMARY FUNCTION: COGNITIVE COMMAND RETENTION
She read it aloud, voice shaking. "They weren't trying to cure the infection. They were trying to command it."
Ethan's stomach twisted. "They made soldiers."
A voice came from behind them — calm, steady, human.
> "Not soldiers. Gods."
They spun around. A man stood in the doorway — tall, gray-haired, wearing a torn lab coat. His ID tag still glimmered faintly: Dr. Alan Royce.
Riley raised her weapon. "Stay back."
He didn't move. "You've come farther than anyone should have. But you don't understand what you're standing in."
Ethan aimed his rifle. "Then explain."
Royce took a slow step forward, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the chamber.
"Project Mistry was born from desperation. The first outbreak wasn't an accident — it was a test. We tried to reverse death by preserving neural data. We failed… until we didn't."
Riley frowned. "You're saying you brought them back?"
Royce nodded. "Yes. But when the first subjects woke up, they weren't human. They remembered… but not who they were. They remembered us. And they hated us."
He looked directly at Ethan. "Your brother, Liam Cole, volunteered for the Mistry program. He was Subject 09."
Ethan froze. "That's impossible."
"His file was wiped," Royce continued. "But he survived. The infection rewrote his DNA, stabilized his brain. He became the first to evolve."
The facility lights flickered violently.
Riley glanced at the ceiling. "What's happening?"
Royce's eyes widened. "He knows you're here."
The walls shook as alarms screamed back to life.
> CORE ACTIVATION IN PROGRESS.
Ethan grabbed Royce by the collar. "How do we stop it?"
"You can't." Royce's voice broke. "He's part of the network now. The system is him."
A deafening roar echoed through the halls. Metal bent. Sparks rained down.
Then the far wall exploded inward, and Liam stepped through the smoke — eyes burning gold, veins glowing blue.
Riley screamed, firing at him. The bullets disintegrated midair.
> "You made us," Liam said, his voice layered with static. "Now watch us rise."
He extended a hand. The lights dimmed, the machines around him whirring to life as if responding to his will. The main chamber's glass shattered, releasing a wave of green energy that rippled through the floor.
Royce stumbled back. "He's merging with the core!"
Ethan fired again and again, shouting over the chaos. "Riley, get to the console!"
She sprinted toward it, fingers flying across the keys. "If I can overload the core, it might blow before he finishes the sync!"
Liam's voice thundered through the speakers.
> "You can't stop evolution."
The floor cracked. Energy surged, knocking Riley to the ground. Ethan pulled her back up. "Now, Riley!"
She hit the final key.
For a moment, everything went silent. The hum died. The lights dimmed.
Then — a single, sharp tone filled the air.
> OVERRIDE ACCEPTED. INITIATING ASHFALL PROTOCOL.
Royce's face drained of color. "No… that wasn't the overload. That was the failsafe. She just armed the bomb!"
Ethan turned to him, eyes wide. "How long?"
"Three minutes," Royce said. "And there's no way to disarm it."
Liam looked around them, almost amused. "Then die with me."
He lunged forward. Ethan tackled Riley aside as the chamber erupted in light. Energy rippled through the room, tearing apart the walls.
As the countdown hit one minute, Royce ran to a terminal, typing furiously. "There's still one escape shaft leading topside! Go!"
Ethan grabbed Riley's hand and pulled her toward the exit, shouting over the collapsing structure. "What about you?"
Royce shook his head. "I started this. I'll end it."
He turned back toward the main core, hands trembling as he faced the being he'd created. "Liam," he said softly, "I'm sorry."
Liam's eyes flickered — for just a moment, something human appeared. Then the blast consumed them both.
The explosion ripped through the facility. Fire and dust burst upward, shattering the city's surface.
Ethan and Riley were thrown clear, crashing into the rain-soaked ruins above.
They lay gasping on the cracked pavement, sirens wailing in the distance. The sky glowed red from the fire below.
Riley coughed. "Is it… over?"
Ethan looked toward the smoking crater.
"No," he said quietly. "It's just beginning."