Reborn as the Zombie King

Chapter 5: The Nosy Girl at the Gas Station

"Chase Ryder."

He tapped the pen against his own chest after writing it.

"Oh Chase. Right, I think I actually recognize you. From around the neighborhood."

He nodded, then pointed toward the stairs.

"You should sleep. I don't need to. I'll keep watch."

Chloe hesitated. It was one thing to accept food from a zombie standing on her porch. It was another thing entirely to fall asleep upstairs with one technically still a strange man wandering her living room.

Chase seemed to read the hesitation on her face. He stepped to the center of the room, raised his hand, and a fireball roared to life above his palm bigger than he meant it to be, close enough to the crystal chandelier overhead that it nearly caught the glass alight.

He blinked, startled by his own strength, and let it dissolve.

"If I wanted to hurt you," he wrote, "I would have done it already."

Chloe read the note twice, something in her chest loosening. If Chase hadn't shown up with that first suitcase, she probably wouldn't have survived the week. She nodded and headed upstairs. It was still hours before sunrise, and being jolted awake in the middle of the night hadn't done her any favors.

Alone downstairs, Chase turned the fireball incident over in his mind. He hadn't meant to put that much force behind it. Getting stronger? Or is my control just garbage right now?

There was another reason he'd gravitated toward Chloe's house specifically from her upstairs windows, he had a clean line of sight straight into the Westchester estate. She sat slightly higher on the hill than he did.

That's probably why she's seen me around and I never noticed her. All she had to do was look out a window.

He stared toward his old home, catching the faint pulse of Vanessa's crystal core glowing somewhere inside. His jaw tightened.

I could go over there right now and tear all three of them apart.

But not yet. Not safely. Patience would get him there faster than rage would.

The math wasn't complicated. He'd stocked that house for one person to survive two months. Split four ways, that same stockpile burned through in half a month, tops.

Even if I never find a power strong enough to take them head-on, they'll starve themselves out eventually.

Chase decided then that he'd make this a routine go out every night, hunt for cores, watch the food supply dwindle. As more people ran dry, more of them would be forced outside to scavenge, and some fraction of those people wouldn't survive the trip.

More corpses. More chances at a core.

He was careful about the distinction, though. Killing indiscriminately was a fast way to end up on some government watchlist, or worse, dead at the hands of somebody far stronger than him.

But nobody's coming after me for killing zombies.

And there was still something in him something stubborn, something that refused to die along with the rest of his old self that balked at the idea of killing someone decent just because they were convenient.

The other truth, the one he didn't like admitting even to himself: he was still too weak to walk up to another empowered human and win that fight outright.

Chloe came downstairs the next morning rubbing sleep from her eyes, and something warm settled in her chest at the sight of Chase still standing by the window. It had been a long time since she'd had anyone to talk to, end of the world or not.

"Let me make you breakfast," she offered.

Chase didn't even glance back. He walked straight out and let the door slam behind him.

"Right. No eating required." Chloe sighed, then brightened almost immediately, crouching over the suitcase like it held buried treasure. "Well more for me."

She had to admit, whatever Chase's deal was, he had good taste in groceries. Everything in that case was exactly the sort of thing she would've picked for herself.

Which made sense, in a way Chloe would never guess. Every item in that suitcase had been chosen using lessons Chase had learned the hard way courtesy of Vanessa.

Get it wrong, and Vanessa would sulk for days. The fastest fix was always a gift bag from somewhere expensive.

Chase's parents had died young, leaving him with money and no family to spend it on. Vanessa had slid into his life at his most vulnerable point, telling him constantly how much she loved him, how much he mattered to her and Chase, starved for exactly that, had believed every word of it.

Looking back now, I was such an idiot.

Vanessa had never wanted a partner. She'd wanted a wallet with a pulse every sweet nothing, every tantrum, every anniversary conveniently followed by a gift. He'd even handed her control of his finances outright, told her the rest could wait until after the wedding.

I gave her everything I had left to give. And this is what I got back.

The memory of her and Liam, always a little too close, a little too familiar it all made sense now. They hadn't just met during the outbreak. That kind of comfort with each other took years, not weeks.

I'm going to make you regret every second of it, Vanessa.

Chase's grip tightened hard enough on the wheel to whiten his knuckles. He jerked the car in a new direction, passing a small group of survivors picking cautiously through a side street. None of them carried a visible glow.

More people with garbage powers, like Vanessa's parents. Most people probably never generate a core at all.

He kept driving.

Unbeknownst to him, the pink car had gone viral again a new video, same eerie sight, a compact pink sedan cruising an empty street while the infected on either side didn't so much as turn their heads. Speculation exploded across every platform.

"Some kind of ability that keeps zombies from noticing you? That's basically a cheat code."

"Marry me and let's raid every Costco in this city, I'm serious."

"6'2", solid build, can be your protector or your problem DM me, I'll keep you safe out there."

"Ignore that guy. My family owns a supermarket chain. I've got real supplies to offer, not abs."

Derek Kane read every comment twice before opening a different window entirely his company's internal claims database. As an insurance adjuster, license plate lookups were second nature to him.

A few keystrokes later: Chloe Sutton. Ridgemont Estates, Westchester.

Derek's eyes narrowed with interest. Less than two miles from his own place.

If she can move around out there without the infected touching her, that's not luck. That's a power. And a power like that, under the right... management, could keep me fed for the rest of this thing.

His mind kept running with it. If she's as pretty as that voice in the video, even better. He licked his lips, already deciding: tonight. She'd likely be out scavenging during daylight, and he needed her alone, unwatched, asleep.

Break in at night, subdue her, keep her somewhere secure, and let her do the collecting for both of us from here on out. A house like that, with a power like that it's basically a kingdom waiting for a king.

Derek was practically giddy at the thought. No police. No consequences. Just the rules he decided to make for himself from here forward.

Maybe I don't just survive this thing. Maybe I build something out of it.

He picked a black long-sleeve out of his closet practical for a night job and checked himself in the mirror, thoroughly pleased with what stared back.

Chase pulled into a gas station and stared down the pump like it had personally wronged him.

Which button... I never actually paid attention to this before...

He fumbled with the console for a solid minute before the pump finally kicked on, filling his tank with a full tank of premium completely free, because apparently nobody was around to charge him for it anymore.

"...How exactly are you driving around without getting bitten?"

The voice came from somewhere behind him, pitched low, clearly trying not to attract every infected within a three-block radius.

Lulu Hayes had ducked into the gas station's convenience store hoping for supplies, and instead found herself face to face with the mystery behind the internet's favorite pink car which, to her considerable surprise, was being driven by a guy.

Chase, not wanting to startle a stranger by turning around and revealing his face, chose to ignore her entirely and kept walking toward the driver's door.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!"

Lulu bristled. Rude didn't begin to cover it.

"There's a whole store full of supplies right here. You could just take some, you know."

But he was already climbing in, already starting the engine. Weird guy. Doesn't even want free supplies. Which if he's driving around at will, he probably doesn't need them. So then why's he even out here?

"Watch out!"

An infected rounded the corner of the building at a dead sprint, closing fast on Chase's car. Lulu, assuming it was targeting him, drew and loosed a glowing arrow from behind.

It punched clean through the creature's torso. Still standing, still crawling forward, it kept coming.

A second arrow followed this one taking the head clean off.

And also, unfortunately, one of Chase's front tires.

"Are you kidding me." Chase shoved the door open, fury boiling over. "That thing wasn't even after me, it was after you! And I just paid well, I filled an entire premium tank for nothing!"

All that careful pump-fumbling, completely wasted.

"AHHHHH"

What came out was pure, wordless rage the kind that didn't need words to land.