DOOMSDAY LEDGER

Chapter 3: Blood Rain

The crunch of breaking bone sounded crisp amidst the roar of the rain, followed by a stifled scream from behind the iron door. Elian had just done something reckless: he released his grip on the mop handle, letting the door open slightly, then kicked the iron door panel shut with all his might.

Bang!

The pale fingers of the red-eyed creature, which had been clutching the edge of the door, were caught in the iron hinge. Three fingers severed instantly, rolling onto the warehouse floor like rotten sausages dropped from a grill. Black blood splattered, staining Elian's sneakers.

"Die, you bastard!" Elian cursed, his breath ragged.

He quickly grabbed the large padlock hanging on the iron shelf next to the door and hooked it into the latch hole. Elian's hands were shaking violently; the key almost fell twice, but finally, a click sounded. The door was locked.

From outside, an angry howl that did not originate from human vocal cords was heard. The iron door shook violently, slammed by a hard body, creating a heavy *thud-thud-thud* that made Elian's heart pound.

"That won't hold for long," Elian muttered to himself. He picked up his mop handle again—his only reliable weapon.

Before he could even catch his breath, the sound of another disaster erupted from the front of the store.

Crash! Shatter!

The sound of two-meter-high thick glass shattering into pieces sounded like a bomb exploding. Strong winds mixed with rainwater swept straight into the store, scattering receipts and plastic bags.

Elian ran out of the warehouse, pulling back the plastic curtain, and was greeted by a chaotic scene.

The front glass barricade was breached. Fat Zombie Bambang, a woman in a torn party dress, and a blood-soaked online motorcycle taxi driver were already inside the store. They were not alone. The heavy rain rushed in with them, flooding the slick ceramic floor with water mixed with blood.

"Back up! Retreat to the aisle!" Rico yelled. He was throwing a plastic shopping basket at Fat Bambang, but the basket simply bounced off the zombie's bulging stomach as if hitting a rubber wall.

"Rico! Watch your left!" Elian shouted, leaping over a stack of instant noodle boxes.

The woman in the party dress—let's call her the Party Dress Woman—leapt with unnatural agility onto the checkout counter. She crawled over the cash register, targeting Mr. Hendra, who was hiding under the counter clutching a calculator.

"Don't eat me! I'm tough! My cholesterol is high!" Mr. Hendra shrieked hysterically, offering his wooden clipboard as a shield.

The Party Dress Woman hissed, black drool dripping from her mouth full of sharp teeth. She lunged.

"Hendra, duck!"

Elian arrived just in time. He used his mop handle like a cue stick, stabbing the Party Dress Woman in the chest with the blunt end of the mop.

Thud!

The Party Dress Woman was thrown backward, falling off the counter and landing in a pile of promotional chocolate bars. The display rack collapsed on her, burying her under hundreds of Silverqueen wrappers.

"Elian! Inventory!" Mr. Hendra cried out instinctively, seeing the scattered chocolate.

"Forget the chocolate, sir!" Elian shot back. He spun his mop stick, ready for the next threat.

On the other side, Rico was in deep trouble. Fat Bambang and the online motorcycle taxi driver had cornered him against the cold drink refrigerator. Rico had no weapon. He was only holding 1.5-liter mineral water bottles in his right and left hands.

"Come here, all of you! I'll douse you with holy water!" Rico bluffed, though his legs were shaking.

The online motorcycle taxi driver lunged first, swinging his hands, whose nails were long and black. Rico blocked with a water bottle. The plastic bottle burst, spraying water everywhere.

"Damn it! Wet!" Rico slipped on the slick floor, falling onto his rear.

Fat Bambang saw easy prey. He opened his mouth wide, ready to bite Rico's shoulder.

"Rico!" Elian tried to run to help, but his leg was grabbed.

The Party Dress Woman rose from the pile of chocolate, her hand gripping Elian's ankle. Her nails pierced the denim fabric of his jeans, scratching his skin. It stung.

"Let go, you bastard!" Elian kicked the woman's face with his free foot. Her nose caved in, but she didn't release her grip. Instead, she tried to pull Elian's leg closer to her mouth.

"Elian! Catch!"

A high-pitched voice came from the warehouse area. Lina. The girl hadn't run away. She stood in the warehouse doorway, holding Elian's black full-face helmet that he had left in the back locker.

With an awkward but determined javelin throw, Lina hurled the helmet toward Rico.

The helmet slid across the slick floor, spinning through the puddles, and stopped right next to Rico's hand, which was scrambling on the floor.

"Perfect!" Rico shouted.

Without thinking, Rico snatched the helmet. Not to wear it, but to use it as a blunt weapon. He rose to a half-crouch, and with a heartfelt uppercut, he slammed the hard helmet into Fat Bambang's chin.

Crack!

The sound of a breaking jaw was horrifying. Fat Bambang's head snapped back from the force of the blow. Elian's helmet—an expensive KYT brand helmet he'd paid for in six installments—cracked at the visor.

"Sorry, El! Your helmet warranty is void!" Rico yelled.

He didn't stop. Momentum was on his side. Rico spun his body and swung the helmet again at the attacking online motorcycle taxi driver.

Thud!

The helmet struck the side of the driver's head. The zombie staggered sideways, crashing into the glass door of the beverage cooler. The cooler glass shattered into a thousand cracks.

Meanwhile, Elian was still wrestling with the Party Dress Woman on the floor. The creature was incredibly strong. She crawled onto Elian's body, her weight pressing down on his chest until he couldn't breathe. The stench from her mouth made Elian want to vomit right then and there.

"Die! Die!" Elian held the woman's neck with the mop handle, trying to keep those sharp teeth away from his face. They were only five centimeters apart. Elian could see the remnants of red lipstick mixed with blood on the zombie's lips.

"Mr. Hendra! Help me! Don't just watch!" Elian shouted in a panic. His strength was fading.

Mr. Hendra, still hiding behind the checkout counter, finally found his courage—or rather, found something heavy enough. He was holding a small red fire extinguisher (APAR).

"This... this isn't expired, is it?" Mr. Hendra muttered hesitantly.

"JUST SPRAY IT, OLD MAN!" Rico screamed from across the room.

Mr. Hendra pulled the safety pin with a trembling hand, then ran toward Elian. Closing his eyes and yelling, "For the sake of the store's assets!", he squeezed the fire extinguisher lever right into the Party Dress Woman's face.

Fwooshhh!

A torrent of white chemical powder sprayed out, covering the zombie's face and part of Elian's face.

"Ugh! Ugh! Sir! You hit me too, you idiot!" Elian coughed, his eyes stinging.

But the attack was effective. The Party Dress Woman roared, momentarily blinded and confused. Her grip weakened. Elian seized the opportunity. He kicked the woman's stomach with all his might, sending her flying backward.

Elian scrambled to his feet, wiping the white powder from his eyes. He saw the Party Dress Woman writhing on the floor, trying to clear her vision.

"Finishing move, El!" yelled Rico, who was busy pinning Fat Bambang's neck in a headlock he'd learned from watching WWE.

Elian flipped his mop handle. The bottom part, made of hard plastic and dirty mop fabric, became his spearhead. He ran, jumped slightly, and plunged the mop handle straight down into the Party Dress Woman's head.

Thwack!

A wet sound. The tip of the mop handle pierced the zombie's right eye, sinking deep into her brain. The woman's body convulsed once, then went still. Dead (again).

Elian took a long breath, pulling the mop handle out with difficulty. Black blood splattered, staining his Cosmo Mart uniform.

"One down!" Elian reported.

On the other side, Rico was overwhelmed. Fat Bambang was too heavy. The obese zombie managed to break free from Rico's headlock and slammed Rico into the snack aisle.

Crash! Dozens of potato chip bags rained down on them.

"Damn, this guy is heavy! What did I do to deserve this!" Rico complained, trying to hold back Fat Bambang's hand, which was clawing at his face.

The dizzy online motorcycle taxi driver was now conscious again. He saw Rico pinned down and ran closer. Rico was in double jeopardy.

"Lina! Throw something else!" Elian yelled, running through the puddle to help Rico.

Lina, at the warehouse door, panicked. She looked around. Her eyes landed on a stack of cardboard boxes filled with glass syrup bottles that had arrived that afternoon. She grabbed a melon-flavored syrup bottle.

"Look out, Rico!"

Smash!

Lina's throw missed. The syrup bottle shattered on the floor, not hitting the zombie, but sticky green syrup spread across the floor right in the online driver's path.

The online driver stepped on the syrup, his foot slipped, and he fell backward hard. The back of his head struck the sharp corner of the lower iron shelf.

Crack.

The zombie driver didn't get up again. His neck was broken in an unnatural position.

"Nice assist, Lin!" Elian praised. He didn't waste time. He jumped onto Fat Bambang's back, who was currently pinning Rico.

"Mr. Hendra! The extinguisher again!" Elian ordered.

Mr. Hendra ran closer. "There's only a little left, Elian! Be careful!"

"Spray it in his mouth when he opens it!"

Elian grabbed the remnants of Fat Bambang's hair, pulling his head back until his mouth gaped wide toward the ceiling.

"Eat this chemical powder!" Mr. Hendra yelled, spraying the remaining contents of the extinguisher directly into the zombie's throat.

Cough! Gurgghhh!

Fat Bambang choked violently. His body convulsed. The chemical powder clogged his airways (if they still breathed) and likely burned his internal organs. Rico used the moment to kick Fat Bambang in the groin with all his strength—a street reflex that never failed.

The zombie howled—a strange, high-pitched sound—then collapsed to the side, spitting up white foam mixed with black blood.

Elian took no chances. He lifted the helmet Rico was holding and slammed it repeatedly into Fat Bambang's head until the creature stopped moving entirely.

Hosh... Hosh... Hosh...

The sound of their four ragged breaths filled the silence of the now-destroyed store. The floor was covered in broken glass, melon syrup, black blood, fire extinguisher powder, and scattered sausages. Rain was still pouring in from the front, soaking everything.

Rico lay sprawled on a pile of chips, staring at the ceiling. "I... I quit. I swear I quit."

Elian leaned against the bread rack, his legs weak. He stared at the corpses. Three zombies. Three people who might have been living normal lives this morning.

"We can't quit yet, Ric," Elian said softly, his eyes fixed on the front entrance, which now gaped wide without glass. "Look outside."

On the road, in the middle of the rainstorm, dozens—no, hundreds—of figures began to stop running. They turned in unison toward the Cosmo Mart. The bright neon lights of the store, shining amidst the city-wide power outage, became a beacon for them.

"The power..." Mr. Hendra mumbled, his face horrified. "The power outside is all out. Only our store is lit."

"Why are we the only ones lit?" Lina asked, trembling as she hugged the warehouse door handle.

Elian suddenly realized. The streetlights were dead. The building across the street was dark. But their store lights were blazing, and the "Cosmo Mart" neon sign outside must have been conspicuously bright.

"Generator?" Rico asked.

"Our generator has been broken since last month; it hasn't been serviced because the budget was cut!" Mr. Hendra replied frantically. "We should be dark too!"

Suddenly, Elian felt a strange sensation in his chest. Warmth, spreading to his arms, then to his fingertips. His hair stood on end, not from fear, but from static electricity. His hair was slightly raised.

Zzzt. Zzzt.

The store lights flickered in rhythm with Elian's heartbeat.

"Elian..." Rico pointed at Elian, his eyes wide. "Is that... is your hand smoking?"

Elian looked down. Sure enough. His fingertips emitted thin smoke and tiny, almost invisible blue electrical sparks.

"What is this?" Elian panicked, shaking his hands.

Before he could find an answer, the rumbling sound of footsteps was heard from the wet asphalt outside. Hundreds of zombies began walking closer to the store, drawn by the light that somehow originated from Elian's presence.

"They're coming," Lina whispered. "So many of them."

"We have to go," Rico said, getting up and picking up the dented helmet. "Through the back?"

"The red-eyed thing is in the back," Elian reminded him. "We're trapped."

Mr. Hendra ran to the electrical panel behind the cashier. "I'll turn off the lights! So they can't see us!"

Click. Click. Click.

Mr. Hendra flipped all the circuit breakers down. But strangely, the store lights remained brightly lit. Even brighter.

"Damn it! The switch isn't working!" Mr. Hendra slammed the electrical panel in frustration.

Elian felt the energy flow growing stronger. He felt like an overcharged battery. His head was throbbing.

"This isn't PLN electricity," Elian muttered, staring at his hands, which were now sparking more clearly. "Is this... me?"

"I don't care what it is, we need to get out of here or we'll become zombie sardines!" Rico yelled. "To the parking lot! Mr. Hendra's car!"

"My car is out front! Right in the middle of that crowd!" Mr. Hendra exclaimed.

"My motorcycle!" Elian remembered. "My motorcycle is at the repair shop... ah, damn it! Your motorcycle, Ric?"

"My motorcycle is next to the store!" Rico pointed to the side wall. "But the key..." Rico felt his pocket, which had a hole. His face paled. "The key fell out when I was fighting Fat Bambang."

The four of them stared at each other in the ruined store. Surrounded from the front, locked in the back, without transportation, and serving as the only source of light in a monster-filled, dark city.

"Okay," Elian said, gripping his cracked mop stick tightly. His eyes stared blankly at the horde of undead starting to enter the parking area. "Plan B. We fight until we die, or..."

Elian looked at the large utility pole in the corner of the parking lot, whose severed cable dangled down, spitting large sparks due to the short circuit caused by the rain.

"...or we make a miracle happen," Elian continued, a crazy—a suicidal—idea forming in his head.

"What idea?" Lina asked fearfully.

"I'll be the bait. Rico, Mr. Hendra, Lina, you run to the box truck parked next door while I draw them away."

"Are you insane?!" Rico snapped.

"Look at my hands, Ric," Elian raised his hands, which were now surrounded by a faint static electrical aura. "I don't think I'm a normal human tonight. I'm going to use that utility pole to fry them."

Without waiting for approval, Elian ran out into the rain from the destroyed store, charging toward the hundreds of hungry zombies.

"ELIAN!" his friends screamed.

In the sky, lightning struck fiercely, as if welcoming the arrival of a new challenger.