The Last Evolution

Chapter 4 — A Woman's Desperate Plea

The cry for help over the handheld radio was cut short by shattering glass and savage snarls, leaving only cold static behind.

Max clicked the radio off and clipped it to his backpack strap. His gaze locked onto the two-story supermarket at the end of the main road.

That scream definitely came from that building, Max thought as he twirled the iron pipe in his hand. If someone locked other survivors inside on purpose, the undead horde must be massed around the front entrance.

He moved fast through the shadows of the side alley without the slightest intention of playing the hero.

The guy on the radio had probably already been torn apart by monsters. To Max, however, that supermarket was a supply mine that hadn't been picked clean yet.

"Food, medicine, radio batteries, and whatever cash or jewelry is sitting in the store safe," Max murmured calculatingly. "I need more capital before the blue stone in my pocket wakes up again."

When he reached the narrow alley alongside the building, he found every ground-floor steel door locked tight. Up on the side wall, though, he spotted a narrow ventilation window ten feet off the ground with its glass already broken.

Relying on the new power in his muscles, Max kicked off the rim of a dumpster, caught the iron frame of the vent, and slipped his body through to land without a sound in the dim, blood-scented back corridor.

From the main hall up front came the muffled thuds of dozens of undead bodies slamming against the locked glass doors.

As he crept down the hallway past a half-open dry storage room, his sharp ears picked up a woman's muffled sobs from behind the shelves.

The muscles in Max's arm tensed. Without making a sound, he nudged the door open with the tip of his boot and leveled his iron pipe past a toppled metal rack.

"Don't move unless you want your skull cracked open."

Cramped in the corner behind a pile of cardboard boxes, a woman in her mid-twenties flinched so hard her shoulder hit the wall.

Her pretty face was pale and smudged with dust, and her thin blouse was dirty and torn at the shoulder, exposing her fair collarbone.

"Please... don't kill me!" she whispered breathlessly.

Once she realized the man in front of her was alone and didn't have a gun like the robber upstairs, her expression shifted fast.

With trembling hands, she crawled toward Max while tugging at her torn collar. Her nervous movement only drew more attention to her bare shoulder in an attempt to win his sympathy.

"Thank goodness someone made it in here..." she sobbed softly as she looked up at Max with wet eyes. "Please, take me out of here. I'm all alone, and I don't have anyone left."

Her slender fingers reached out toward Max's knee as her voice dropped into a desperate whisper.

"I know nothing comes free in a ruined world like this," she whispered, biting her lip while trembling. "As long as you get me out alive, I'll do anything for you. I'll obey and serve you however you want..."

Max didn't even blink at the sight at his feet.

Her tears and sweet promises only reminded him of Chloe's innocent act three days ago, right before she sold him out.

"Save your breath and pull your hand back before I break it," Max cut in coldly as he stepped back half a pace.

The tip of his black-stained iron pipe pointed straight at her chin and froze her hand in midair.

"I came here for supplies, not to pick up women in a zombie nest," Max continued in a flat, biting tone. "Try pulling a cheap act like that on me again, and I'll leave you behind right now."

Her breath hitched. Her face flushed with embarrassment and shock as she met Max's stone-cold stare—he wasn't tempted in the slightest.

What kind of man is he? she thought, trembling as she yanked her hand back and pulled her torn blouse closed. His eyes are even scarier than the gunman upstairs!

"I-I'm sorry," she stammered and lowered her head. "My name is Mia. I was just terrified because I thought I was going to die in here."

"I didn't ask for your name," Max replied without lowering his weapon. "Answer three questions, fast. Were you bitten? How long have you been hiding here? And who locked this building?"

Realizing this man only cared about practical answers, Mia quickly rolled up both sleeves and tilted her head back to show her clean neck.

"I wasn't bitten! The scrape on my shoulder is just from brushing against a shelf when I ran earlier," Mia explained quickly. "We've been locked down here for half an hour, and the guy up front got mauled by zombies just a few minutes ago because he was reckless enough to scream for help over the radio."

Her breathing grew shallow as she recalled the betrayal she had just suffered.

"This morning, that man and I ran into a couple on the street," Mia went on with her fists clenched. "They invited us to scavenge for food here together. But the second we gathered the supplies, the big guy pulled a pistol and took everything, including one of our walkie-talkies."

Max's brow twitched at the description. "A couple with a pistol?"

"Yes! That bastard shot out the front glass to lure the zombies onto the ground floor, then locked us down here as bait!" Mia said bitterly. "His girlfriend was even more disgusting. She acted weak the whole time, but when they locked the door, she stood upstairs laughing at me!"

The corner of Max's mouth curled into an icy smirk.

"Did you catch their names?" Max asked quietly.

"That snake of a woman called her boyfriend Derek," Mia answered, shivering at the shift in Max's expression. "And the guy with the gun called her Chloe."

"Derek and Chloe," Max repeated in a low voice that seemed to drop the temperature in the room by ten degrees.

What a small world. Just a few days after stealing my food and kicking me out like a dog, that pair of trash is sitting right above my head.

Seeing the murderous intent radiating from Max's eyes, Mia shrank back against the cardboard boxes as cold sweat broke out across her forehead.

"D-do you know them?" Mia asked carefully.

"Well enough to know they don't deserve to keep breathing," Max replied flatly before refocusing on the tactical situation. "The vent I climbed through is too high for you to reach. Tell me the layout of the exits and where those two are right now."

Mia swallowed hard and pointed toward the back wall of the storage room.

"Past this corridor is the back warehouse and the office, which has an emergency exit leading to the parking lot," Mia explained as she pulled a ring of keys from her pocket. "Before Derek took my bag, I hid this warehouse key because I used to work at the shop next door. I didn't dare go in there alone because several staff zombies are locked inside the warehouse."

"And where are Derek and Chloe?"

"They're in the second-floor control room looking for the spare keys," Mia said quickly. "If you take me through the back warehouse, you can have all the food in the office!"

Just as Max was about to answer, the handheld radio clipped to his backpack strap crackled softly—picking up a short-range signal from the walkie-talkie in Derek's hand upstairs.

"Hey, little bitch downstairs! You hear me, don't you? I know you're still alive and hiding that iron key!" Derek's rough voice came clearly through the small speaker, followed by Chloe's familiar, mocking laugh.

"Come out of hiding and toss that back warehouse key up to the second-floor stairs right now, Mia, or we'll pour gasoline down the hall and burn this whole place to the ground!"