A week passed.
Ezra couldn't sit still anymore.
He needed to know. If they were alive. If his family made it through the Rapture. The silence on the phone still haunted him.
He found a car. Abandoned in a parking lot, keys still in the ignition. Half a tank of gas. One of the tires looked like shit, but it rolled.
Close enough.
He drove.
City didn't feel real. Not anymore.
Stores boarded up. Empty streets. A few people walking around, eyes wide, shoulders tense, like they were waiting for something to jump out of the shadows.
Ezra knew the feeling.
The buildings were still standing, but the city was dead. Soul gone. Like everyone left behind was just waiting to find out why.
---------
An hour in, the highway narrowed.
Checkpoint ahead. Big signs. Concrete barriers. Barbed wire. Armed guards in gear that didn't match. Government leftovers? Private security? Hard to tell these days.
Ezra's hands tightened on the wheel.
Sweat broke out on his back.
What if they scanned him? What if they recognized his face? Mugshots were public. His record was long. He wasn't supposed to be free.
He could turn around. Take a side road. Try to sneak through.
But that would just look worse.
He took a breath.
"Play it cool. Just another survivor. Nobody important."
He rolled up slowly.
One guard stepped forward, rifle in hand. Covered head to toe. Visor down.
Ezra forced a nod. Kept his hands on the wheel.
The soldier raised a hand…
They told him to step out of the car.
Ezra hesitated.
His foot stays planted on the brake. Hand still on the gear shift.
What if they scanned him and found out?
Convicted drug pusher. Escaped during a disaster. That's all they'd see.
But the guard was already walking up, waving him out like it wasn't a request.
Ezra forced himself to move. Slow. Calm.
Outside, a soldier held a black device, boxy, glowing, maybe the size of a thick phone.
"This'll just take a second," the guard said.
Ezra gave a nod. Swallowed the lump in his throat.
The machine scanned for Revelation ranks. Government had started testing everyone. Tagging the useful ones.
The device beeped and reset.
Then some new guy stepped up.
Looked like money. Talked like privilege. Cocky smirk. Girls in tight clothes around him like groupies.
He slammed his palm onto the scanner.
"Subject: James Hall. Rank: B. Type: Fire Channeler."
Applause. Of course. One of the girls squealed. A soldier gave him a handshake like he just won the lottery.
Ezra stood back. Watching. Fuming.
He remembered what the news said. Anyone with a good rank got offers now, money, housing, even a badge. Instant heroes. Especially if you could kill zombies.
Then it was Ezra's turn.
He stepped up alone. Quiet.
No crowd. No friends.
He placed his hand on the scanner.
Cold.
It buzzed. Whirred. Screen lit up.
Then silence.
"Subject: Ezra Cross. Rank: E. Type: Non-Combat."
Laughter broke out.
James yelled from the back, "Put him on mop duty!"
Ezra didn't respond.
He just turned away.
Not worth the breath.
Suddenly…
From a rooftop, four Zombies leapt, not the slow kind. These were fast. Strong. Former SWAT or military, still in gear but twisted and twitching, glowing faint gold in the eyes.
One landed on a truck. Crushed it.
Another tackled a guard and bit clean through his neck.
The soldiers fired, rifles, handguns, even grenades. It barely slowed them down.
James Hall screamed and threw a fireball. One zombie caught it… and didn't burn. It charged him. Slammed him into a wall. His body hit the ground, unmoving.
People ran. Others screamed. Civilians, soldiers, everyone was dying.
Ezra's brain stopped working. His ears rang. His legs didn't move.
Then one of them locked eyes with him.
It charged.
Ezra panicked. He reached for something, anything, and his fingers wrapped around a metal pipe near the ground. Looked like it had snapped off from a fence.
He gripped it tight, backing away.
His foot slipped.
He lost balance and fell hard, landing on his back.
The pipe clattered, but his hands didn't let go. As he fell, the end jammed into the dirt at an angle, point up, right in front of him.
The zombie was already mid-jump.
It flew straight at him.
And landed chest-first on the pipe.
The metal shot through its vest, through its chest, and out its back. A sick crunch. The zombie twitched, gurgled, then stopped.
Ezra blinked.
The thing was inches from his face. Heavy. Dead weight. Literally.
A faint flicker pulsed behind his eyes, like static on an old TV. The air around him crackled. The pipe still trembled in his grip, warm like it had just touched a live wire.
Something shifted.
Inside him.
He shoved it off with a grunt, rolled onto his side, and gagged.
He gagged again and rolled to his side, bile burning in his throat.
"Jesus," he muttered. "I think I pissed myself a little."
His hands were shaking. Pipe still clutched tight, sticky with blood.
He didn't feel like a survivor. He felt like he just got lucky. Dumb, desperate luck.
Then he looked at the pipe.
Still stuck in the ground. Covered in blood.
"Yeah," he said between breaths. "That was… skill. Definitely skill."
The zombie twitched, groaned, then went still.
Ezra stared. Breathing hard.
He didn't move right away.
Then he reached up and yanked the pipe free with a grunt.
And then…
[Primary Core Severed. Control Enable.]
[Initiating Control Link...]
[New Lazarus Acquired: B-Class Slayer]
[Available Control Slots: 1/10]
Ezra blinked. "What the...?"
The other three zombies turned and started to run toward him.
But the one in front, his zombie now, twitched.
Ezra froze. "What the hell was happening? Why was it just standing there?"
The screen flickered again.
[Initiating Control Completed…]
[Command?]
"Command?"
The word barely registered. The three were coming at him, fast. He panicked, throwing out the first thing that came to mind.
He pointed a finger at them. "Kill them!"
The Class B Slayer zombie didn't hesitate. It launched forward and tore into the nearest one. Ripped it apart. Bones cracked. Blood sprayed.
One by one, it shredded the others.
Ezra just watched.
Horrified. Amazed.
The prompt screen flashed in his vision.
[Initiating Control Link…]
[New Lazarus Acquired: 2 C-Class Slayer]
[New Lazarus Acquired: 1 C-Class Range]
[Available Control Slots: 4/10]
He looked around.
Bodies were everywhere. Some already twitching. Starting to rise.
He stepped forward. Eyes on a shaking corpse.
The prompt screen flashes again.
[Initiating Control Completed…]
[Command?]
Ezra pointed. "Kill them before they get up."
The Class B Slayer zombie sprinted over and crushed its skull.
[Note: Beheading = Termination. Control Unavailable.]
[Destroying the heart = Termination. Control Available.]
Ezra gritted his teeth. "Then stab the heart. If you can't control it, stop it from rising."
The undead nodded, and obeyed.
Smoke filled the air.
But the dead weren't done.
Bodies twitched. Civilians. Soldiers. Even James Hall.
Ezra stepped over a dying man. His hand shook, but he pointed.
"Stab the hearts. Not the heads."
His zombies moved fast. Clean. Precision strikes to the chest. Ezra watched them drop one by one.
[New Lazarus Acquired: B-Class Mage]
[Available Control Slots: 5/10]
He worked fast. Picked 5 more from the fallen. Strong bodies. Soldiers. Fighters. Survivors who didn't make it.
[New Lazarus Acquired:
3 C-Class Slayer
2 C-Class Range]
[Max Capacity Reached 10/10]
Ten undead stood in a tight line behind him.
James Hall still flickered faintly, fire dancing at his fingertips.
Ezra turned his back on the burning checkpoint and walked away, pipe in hand.
His squad followed.