As the first sliver of gray light touched the horizon, a distant siren wailed. It was faint at first, then grew louder, a chilling, artificial shriek. Anya and Jax had initiated the diversion.
"That's our signal!" Ethan called out, his voice cutting through the pre-dawn quiet. "Everyone, get ready! Backpacks on! Stay calm, move fast, and stick together!"
The sound of the siren, persistent and unnerving, gradually began to shift the moaning horde at the strip mall. They heard the distant shuffles and groans of zombies being drawn away, their mindless hunger overriding their proximity to the main thoroughfare.
Then, a new sound, deep and resonant, rumbled down the street. It was the growl of a heavy diesel engine. Through a tiny gap in the barricade, Ethan saw it: a boxy, dark green armored truck, moving slowly but deliberately down their street, its reinforced body seeming utterly out of place in the quiet suburban setting.
Anya was driving, Jax riding shotgun, a rifle poking out from a makeshift gunport. The truck slowly approached Marcus's house.
"Go! Go! Go!" Ethan shouted, directing Mr. Henderson and the others towards the back gate. Marcus was already there, unlatching the locks.
The plan was simple: open the gate, pile into the back of the truck, and slam the doors shut. Speed was paramount.
As they emerged from the gate, the world seemed to hold its breath. The distant siren still wailed, and the Brute's roars could be heard, but now it was further away, drawn by the distraction. For a few precious seconds, the street was clear.
The armored truck pulled up, its heavy back doors swinging open. "Move! Move! Move!" Anya yelled, her voice crisp and urgent.
Mr. Henderson helped the younger students, Sam and Jasmine, clamber into the truck's cargo bay. Chloe and Lily followed quickly, their faces a mixture of fear and adrenaline. Marcus scrambled in, then reached back for Ethan.
Just as Ethan was about to leap into the truck, a sudden, piercing shriek cut through the air. From a side street, a small group of zombies, perhaps half a dozen, burst into view. They hadn't been drawn by the siren; they were just local stragglers, now reacting to the noise of the truck and the commotion.
*\[Threat detected: Multiple low-level zombies (6) approaching rapidly.]*
"Go! Go!" Ethan roared, pushing Marcus into the truck. He couldn't get in. He had to cover them.
He pivoted, hatchet in hand, planting his feet firmly in the gravel driveway. The zombies were fast, closing the distance. He had to buy them time.
Anya, seeing the immediate threat, hesitated for a split second, her hand going to the gear shift. Jax yelled, "Go, Anya! We can't lose the truck!"
Ethan didn't look back. He faced the remaining zombies, a grim determination replacing his fear. He ducked under a flailing arm, then spun, bringing the hatchet around in a wide sweep that cleaved through the neck of one zombie and slammed into the face of another. The two fell in quick succession.
*[Low-level zombie eliminated! Experience Gained: 10 EXP.]*
*[Low-level zombie eliminated! Experience Gained: 10 EXP.]*
*[Current Experience: 200/400.]*
**\[Congratulations, Host! You have gained enough Experience Points to Level Up!]**
**\[Level Up! You are now Level 4!]**
**\[All basic attributes +1!]**
**\[Points: +1!]**
**\[Status]**
**Name:** Ethan James
**Title:** None
**Level:** 4
*Experience:** 10/400 (Next Level)
**Strength:** 8 (+1)
**Agility:** 8 (+1)
**Stamina:** 10 (+1)
**Intelligence:** 11 (+1)
**Skills:** Melee Proficiency (Tier 1)
**Points:** 1
Only one left. But as he turned to face it, a shadow fell over him. A new, terrifying sound.
*THUMP… THUMP… THUMP.*
The ground vibrated. Ethan's blood ran cold. It was the Brute. It had somehow broken through the main horde and was now on a path directly towards him, its massive, distorted hand already tearing apart a nearby garden shed.
**\[Warning! Brute detected at close range! Imminent threat!]**
"Ethan! Run!" he heard Marcus scream from the accelerating truck.
Ethan knew he couldn't fight it. Not alone. Not with a hatchet. He pivoted, sprinting away from the last zombie and away from the monstrous Brute, which let out a guttural roar, its milky eyes fixing on him. His *Agility* was at its peak, letting him weave through the remaining debris of the street like a phantom.
The truck was almost at the end of the block. Ethan forced his legs to pump harder, his lungs burning. He could hear the heavy thudding footsteps of the Brute gaining on him, closer, closer. The ground shook with each stride.
He reached the end of the block, and the truck screeched to a halt, its back doors already open. Marcus was leaning out, his hand outstretched.
"Jump!" Anya yelled.
Ethan launched himself forward, a desperate leap. He felt a searing pain as something heavy and blunt slammed into his leg from behind. The force sent him tumbling, but Marcus's hand found his, pulling him with surprising strength.
He crashed into the back of the truck, rolling painfully. The doors slammed shut, plunging the cargo bay into near darkness. He heard the heavy roar of the Brute from outside, then the sudden, crushing sound of a house collapsing in on itself. It had missed him, but just barely.
"You okay, man?" Marcus panted, his face pale with relief and terror.
Ethan grunted, pushing himself up. He felt a dull ache in his left calf. He quickly rolled up his pant leg. A deep bruise was already forming, and he could feel a sickening looseness. He didn't need the System to tell him he was hurt.
**\[Host sustained blunt force trauma to left calf. Minor injury. Agility temporarily reduced by 1. Healing rate slowed.]**
"Damn it," he muttered. It was a minor injury, but in this world, any injury was a weakness.
The truck rumbled forward, picking up speed, leaving the nightmare of the suburbs behind. The interior was cramped, filled with the scared faces of Mr. Henderson, Chloe, Lily, Sam, and Jasmine. Their eyes were wide, fixed on Ethan, a mixture of terror and awe. He had bought them their escape, but at a cost.
He had fought, he had leveled up, and he had escaped a monster. But the brief moment of triumph was overshadowed by the throbbing pain in his leg and the chilling realization that the threats were only getting bigger, more horrifying. Their journey had just begun, and the world was already demanding its pound of flesh.