As Taylor descended the stairwell, Eric's ears caught a faint sound, prompting her to ask Dennis, "Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" he replied.
"A noise… like footsteps in the corridor." Unease prickled Eric's senses as she cautiously slipped outside to investigate.
The zombies they had lured away remained confined within the stairwell, so whence came the sound—
Rustle, rustle.
She turned her gaze toward the far end of the corridor, where chunks of blood-stained plaster had fallen from the ceiling. As she looked up, more large fragments slipped loose—a scene unsettlingly familiar.
Just then, a tentacle burst through the ceiling, sliding forth with a slick undulation, suspended in midair.
Eric's breath caught; she retreated slowly, shutting the door behind her and then sprinting toward the window.
"Hurry! You go first!"
The indecisive Dennis complied without hesitation, while Eric quickly secured the young NPC with a rope and lowered him down. Using ample bed sheets scavenged from the floor's rooms, Eric managed to lower him seven or eight stories. The captive was bounced about violently, wailing in distress, but Eric steeled herself; survival mattered more than gentleness in such desperate times.
Noises swelled in the corridor above; the slapping of tentacles reverberated ominously. Then, moments later, a thunderous crash shook the building—a great slab of ceiling collapsing.
The rooftop monster was descending. But why—after such silence—had it smashed through the tenth floor's floor to invade the ninth?
Ah, perhaps it—or they—had been using the stairs all along, which naturally made no sound. Yet the ninth floor's staircase was blocked by a horde of zombies feasting on the dinosaur meat...
Unexpectedly, Eric's earlier plan had scored a double victory; otherwise, the rooftop monster might have approached the ninth floor unseen, and she would have perished without knowing why.
Cold sweat broke out across Eric's skin, yet her movements grew swifter and more precise.
Clang, clang, clang! The young NPC's descent echoed through the metal grates of each floor. Taylor had reached the ground level, cautiously wielding his stainless steel rod against potential zombie attack.
Fortunately, it seemed the zombies had been lured upstairs completely— not a single one remained on the first floor.
"Faster, faster," Taylor urged, eyes scanning vigilantly. His gaze flicked upward in surprise—Dennis had also descended? The NPC was dropping more rapidly now, no doubt battered and bruised. Why the sudden urgency? Was something wrong upstairs?
Prepared for the worst, Taylor caught the young man as his rope snapped on the second floor, lifting him to safety.
Looking up, he saw Eric climbing at a pace so furious it might have been the work of a cinematic stunt double. He became all the more alarmed, hastening to move the NPC to their prearranged shelter.
Dennis's lack of experience left him struggling behind, while Eric surged ahead, increasing his anxiety. He opened his mouth to call out for her to wait, but reconsidered, stifling the sound as he hurried downward.
Eric dreaded the tentacled creature; her shoulder still throbbed with pain, the wound bleeding anew with every strenuous movement. She refused to be pierced again.
Driven by survival instinct, she climbed with desperate speed, now reaching the fourth floor. Suddenly, a loud crash shattered the silence—the hospital ward door had been smashed open!
Dennis's grip faltered in fright; looking up, he saw nothing and exhaled in relief. But in the next instant, shards of glass rained down upon his head. Pressing himself against the wall to dodge, he then heard another thunderous crash—bang!
The security grille outside the window was torn away, nails and stones flying wildly. Shocked, Dennis glanced upward to see several grotesque tentacles slithering through the shattered window, writhing in all directions, slick with dripping slime.
Repulsive! Terrifying!
Overcome, Dennis emitted a piercing scream, and in that instant, the tentacles fixed their attention on him. Just as their probing limbs retracted, they froze, then lunged downward in unison.
"Ah! Help!" Dennis scrambled helplessly, footing slipping. Paralyzed with panic, tears spilled uncontrollably.
The tentacles crawled rapidly along the wall, slime hissing against the surface; within moments they reached above Dennis's head.
Up close amidst the stench and horror, Dennis felt his courage shatter. Yet, in this desperate moment, an incredible surge of strength propelled him forward—he scrambled upward two floors as the tentacles pursued relentlessly, his tear-streaked face a portrait of fear.
Below, Eric finally reached the ground. She landed with a roll, immediately distancing herself from the building before rising to assess the unfolding situation.
Eric's gaze first fell upon Dennis, then the pursuing tentacles behind him, and finally the window from which those tentacles emerged— the window framed only a single thick appendage, from which dozens more branched.
Conjuring the scene in her mind, she wondered if behind that window loomed a grotesque face, a gaping maw enveloping the opening.
Eric marveled at her vivid imagination, which now threatened to terrify her into paralysis.
For the first time, she drew the gun with its remaining two bullets. She had practiced wielding it, lifting it, releasing the safety, and aiming—yet she had never fired it. Not from fear, but because the scarcity of ammunition afforded no room for practice.
These two bullets remained as a last resort, hoping that on the brink of death, she might land a crucial shot against an imminent foe.
Now, Eric raised the gun, aiming not at the writhing tentacles but at the window behind. She knew from experience that severing tentacles was far from fatal; the core of the monster lurked behind that window.
"Save me! Save me!" Dennis had reached the third floor, spotting Eric with the gun, his plea brimming with hope.
"Jump!" she shouted.
Her commanding tone brooked no hesitation; Dennis released his grip and leapt downward. As he fell, regret surged—this was the third floor!
As he descended, the tentacles struck where he had just been.
This seemed the limit of their reach. Eric watched as the ninth-floor window buckled under immense pressure, as if something monstrous yearned to burst forth.
Dennis hit the ground, twisting his ankle and injuring his back, howling in pain. Eric swiftly dragged him up, handing him a medkit: "Return this, understood?"
Dennis nodded frantically, awestruck by the miraculous recovery. His wounds vanished instantaneously—how incredible!
The two retreated, with Eric glancing back repeatedly. She saw a massive, pulsating mass emerge from the window— a grotesque head, bloated, decaying, and skinless, its maw splitting half its face, eyes reduced to dark voids.
It roared, its forked tongue writhing like a nest of vipers.
Sensing its gaze upon her, Eric quickly averted her eyes and quickened her pace.
The monster battered the window relentlessly, as though determined to shatter the wall and unleash its full form. Eric's heart raced, her dread deepening.
Finally, rounding a corner, she distanced herself from the building.
A zombie lunged from the side; Eric unsheathed the rod at her waist and struck it down.
"This way!" she directed.
Dennis now regarded her as a deity, complying without question.
The two reached the hospital's rear parking lot, their designated meeting point.
Indeed, Taylor was there, pacing anxiously.
"Hey, over here!" He stepped out from behind a pillar, beckoning. "What happened?"
"The rooftop monster pursued us to the ninth floor—it's a colossal thing," Eric summarized succinctly. Taylor gasped, "Good heavens! Thank goodness we fled swiftly. Let's move!"
The front entrance was out of the question; the rear offered greater safety. The parking lot was a chaotic array of abandoned vehicles, forcing the trio to navigate through narrow gaps. Eventually, they reached the rear gate, locked and bolted. Taylor's skills surfaced once more as he began picking the lock: "Don't worry, our deal still stands. I'll teach you later." Eric nodded.
Beyond the gate, they carried the young NPC, now much more compliant. Though he followed willingly, he occasionally glanced back at the hospital. Taylor assumed he was reluctant to part from the helipad, asking, "Hey, your family must be wealthy, right? Is that the only helipad here? Surely there are others?"
Eric, however, discerned a different sentiment in his gaze—he seemed pained and hesitant. Why?
At Taylor's question, the young man lowered his head. "I don't know. I haven't left this place in a very long time."
This enigmatic NPC, though clearly a key clue, left them feeling adrift. Suppressing his frustration, Taylor turned to Eric: "Do you have a plan for where we go next?"
"He mentioned this is an island. Let's head to the shore."
Taylor's eyes lit up. "Yes! The exit portal might be there!"
Reaching the shore was no easy feat. The island was overrun by zombies; roads were blocked, swarming with the undead.
After a brief, uneventful stretch, the zombies multiplied, even crawling from beneath cars, catching them off guard. Unskilled and timid, Dennis was tasked with guarding the NPC, with the rope binding him secured to Dennis's arm, leaving Eric and Taylor to fend off attackers.
Kicking a zombie that lunged from beneath a car, Eric eyed the vehicle: "There's a key inside. Drive?"
Of course, they'd drive!
Taylor rolled up his sleeves. "Let me take the wheel!" Traffic congestion was preferable trudging on foot; the car's metal frame offered an extra layer of security. As for roadblocks? No issue—forge a new path, avoiding non-existent traffic police. With determination, all roads led to freedom.
Once behind the wheel, Taylor maneuvered the car masterfully— abrupt braking, sharp turns, even skidding onto sidewalks and smashing through barriers. Zombies were no match for the car's force, their brains splattering across the windshield.