The group had just rushed through the intersection when the sudden wail of an air raid siren rang out.


    “Woooo—”


    The sound was sharp and urgent, echoing in every corner of the street, as if declaring to all survivors that danger was everywhere.


    “An alarm?” The rich kid’s face turned pale, his eyes scanning the surroundings in terror.


    His voice trembled: “What does this mean? Can things get any worse?”


    Eli’s eyes quickly scanned the area, noticing that the zombies seemed to have been triggered by the sound, their attacks on survivors growing even more frantic.


    Low growls echoed from nearby, blending with the shrill alarm, sending chills down their spines.


    Allen quickly surveyed the surroundings and pointed to a relatively hidden alley. “Quick, this way!”


    The team adjusted their direction and swiftly darted into the alley.


    Inside, trash bags were haphazardly piled in the corners, some torn open, the foul stench of decay filling the air.


    Bloodstains, torn fabric, and scattered corpses littered the ground, all signs that a horrific tragedy had just unfolded here.


    “Finally lost them…”


    The rich kid panted heavily, slumping against the wall, his legs trembling so much he could barely stand.


    He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, his eyes still wide with the terror of narrowly escaping death.


    No one responded to him. The others were too focused on catching their breath, desperately trying to regain their strength.


    Allen stood alert at the front of the group, his sharp eyes scanning the depths of the alley.


    The undercover cop kept watch at the rear, his eyes fixed on the alley entrance, ready for any zombies that might suddenly appear.


    Eli’s gaze dropped, his heart swirling with complex emotions.


    His hometown in Texas, the place he could never erase from his mind,.


    He took a deep breath and quickly pulled out his phone.


    The moment the screen lit up, a surge of indescribable hope quietly rose in his chest.


    However, as soon as he pressed the call button, the screen coldly displayed the words “No Signal.”


    That fleeting hope vanished in an instant, replaced by deep concern—an unprecedented fear and unease.


    “It can’t be… It won’t be anything…” he murmured softly, his fingers repeatedly dialing with no effect.


    Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, dripping down his cheek, mixing with his tense expression, making it even heavier.


    But then, deep inside, a calm voice echoed in his mind—it was his instinct.


    No signal didn’t mean they were doomed.


    The thought was clear and firm, like a lighthouse in the dark, dispelling the gloom in his heart and offering a faint sense of comfort.


    Allen''s voice came from beside him, laced with a hint of confusion and alertness: “What’s wrong?”


    Eli snapped his head up, a deliberate calm on his face. “Nothing. Just no signal on my phone.”


    Allen didn’t press further. His gaze unintentionally drifted to the watch on his wrist, a small smear of blood visible on its face.


    Eli noticed Allen’s gaze linger on the watch, his eyes narrowing.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    Instinct told Eli that this wasn’t just an ordinary watch—it must have been a gift from Allen’s ex-wife.


    Allen let out a soft sigh, pushing down the swirling thoughts in his head.


    “Allen Kyle, what... is your name?”


    “Eli.” Eli’s answer was simple and direct, but he added, “Eli Fenn.”


    Allen nodded, patting Eli on the shoulder with a hint of gratitude in his eyes. “Thanks again. You saved my life back there.”


    Eli didn’t respond, merely nodding slightly, his gaze lowering as if still lost in the memory of the call he hadn’t been able to make.


    “Honestly,” Allen’s tone softened, and he asked, almost cautiously, “Have you... ever learned how to use something like a stick? The way you handled those zombies... that wasn’t something an ordinary person could do.”


    Eli looked up, his gaze calm. “I’ve never learned. I like watching action movies and working out. In a situation like that... it was either fight or die. I didn’t have time to think.”


    Allen studied him for a moment before nodding. “Either way, thanks.”


    The undercover cop scoffed, his tone a bit rough. “Not even able to save your own skin, yet you’re willing to risk your life for someone else—this isn’t something you see every day.”


    Eli turned to look at the undercover cop but didn’t say anything.


    “Ethan Caldwell.”


    His tone was casual, but there was a hint of approval. “You did well, but don’t expect to be this lucky every time.”


    “Thanks for the heads-up,” Eli nodded, his voice steady. “I don’t plan on doing it again.”


    At that moment, the rich kid seemed to recover a little and mustered the courage to speak. “Landon... Landon Brooks.”


    His voice still shook with clear fear. “Thank you for saving me earlier... I might not have... well, I’d probably be…”


    Eli glanced at Landon, offering a slight nod. His tone softened, just a little. “No need to thank me. We’re all just trying to survive.”


    “What the hell were those monsters...?”


    “God knows.” Ethan replied casually, his tone impatient.


    Landon’s face was pale, his eyes darting around, clearly still gripped by intense fear.


    Allen reminded everyone, “This isn’t the time for chit-chat.”


    His expression grew serious. “This place isn’t safe. We need to find somewhere more secure, fast.”


    “Where to?” Landon’s voice betrayed his panic.


    “The police station, Times Square precinct, not far from here,” Allen said quickly. “It’s small, but it has weapons and equipment.”


    Eli nodded. He didn’t object, but a sense of unease crept into his gut.


    The police station had likely already fallen.


    However, Eli didn’t voice his thoughts.


    Landon shook his head, muttering under his breath, “Will going to the police station even help?”


    “Then why don''t you stay?”


    Ethan cut in coldly, his gaze sweeping over Landon’s pale face. “If you want to live, shut up and follow.”


    Landon froze for a moment, his face growing even paler. He lowered his head and didn’t say another word.


    Allen spoke sternly, “From now on, follow my lead. No shouting or pointless complaints.”


    Ethan stood beside Allen, silent, clearly acknowledging Allen’s temporary leadership.


    Eli stood at the back of the group, quietly observing everyone’s reactions. He had no intention of competing for leadership.


    Letting Allen take charge would not only give the group clear direction, but it would also help conceal Eli’s secrets.


    Still, his gut kept warning him: the police station was lost; they couldn’t go there!


    Nevertheless, Eli knew that there was not enough reason to persuade the others to give up on going to the police station, so he decided to wait and see for now.


    Allen scanned the group, and without any unnecessary words, gave the order directly:


    “Before we leave, find something decent to defend yourself. Use whatever you can find, and try to pick something sturdy.”


    The group scattered, rummaging through the alley for useful items.


    Ethan quickly found a rusted metal rod. He swung it a couple of times, nodding in satisfaction.


    Allen dug through a pile of discarded wooden planks and pulled out a long, thick metal crowbar. Its surface was covered in rust, but it was incredibly sturdy.


    Eli’s eyes swept the surroundings, and he quickly found a broken steel pipe next to an abandoned trash bin.


    The pipe’s edge was slightly sharp, and when he gripped it, it felt heavy in his hand—a suitable weapon.


    Landon fumbled around in a panic, only to pick up a piece of broken wood, cracked on the surface and likely to snap at any moment.


    He swallowed nervously and hesitated, asking, “This... will it work?”


    Ethan glanced at him, his tone still indifferent: “If you really think that’ll save your life, then keep it.”


    After saying that, his gaze shifted to a nearby trash can lid, and his tone slightly paused:


    “Use that one, at least it’s metal. It’s better than the junk you’re holding.”


    Landon’s eyes lit up in realization, and he quickly shot Ethan a grateful look.


    He discarded the broken scrap he was holding and hastily grabbed the trash can lid, clutching it tightly in his hand, as if he had grabbed the last lifeline.


    Ethan looked at the trash can lid firmly held in Landon’s hands and reminded him, “Whether it saves your life or not depends on how you use it.”


    Landon nodded cautiously, but his eyes held a subtle, unnoticed resolve.


    "Ethan, take the rear. I''ll lead the way." Allen ordered quietly, gripping the crowbar steadily.


    His gaze was sharp as it swept toward the shadows at the front of the alley, his steps firm and silent.


    Eli and Landon followed in the middle of the group.


    Eli intentionally putting on a nervous expression.


    However, his eyes occasionally scanned the surroundings, silently taking note of every possible exit and potential threat.


    Landon kept his head down, his shoulders trembling slightly.


    Though he was terrified, he did his best to steady his pace, staying close behind Allen.


    The ground was littered with broken glass and torn clothing, and the air was filled with a nauseating, decaying stench.


    The group held their breath, carefully stepping over the obstacles scattered throughout the alley.


    The stillness around them felt fragile, like a thin sheet of paper, as though a light touch could tear it apart.