The first one went down with a clean burst—three shots, center mass, then one to the skull just to be sure. The second lunged from behind a rusted sedan, jaws snapping, reeking like a dog corpse left in a heatwave. Carlos grunted, shoved it back with his forearm, and drove the butt of his rifle into its temple so hard it cracked.

“Back the fuck up!” he snapped, then lined up and pulled the trigger. Skull fragments sprayed the pavement.

The third came crawling out from under a flipped-over newsstand, dragging what was left of its body like it hadn’t noticed half its torso was gone. Carlos didn’t waste a bullet—just stomped its head until the twitching stopped.

Then there was nothing outside the wailing sirens of abandoned police cruisers off in the distance and whatever pipe exploded in a nearby building.

A dry wind skated through the street, whistling through shattered windows and dragging loose papers across the cracked asphalt. Carlos stood there, heart thumping in his chest, chest rising and falling under the weight of his vest.

“Damn,” he breathed, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his glove. The smell was worse here. Dead skin, sewer rot, something sickly sweet underneath it all that clung to the inside of his nose like it wanted to stay there forever. He spat on the ground, took one last look at the pile of corpses, then clicked on his radio.

“Captain,” he said, voice rough, “it’s Carlos. Just cleared a hotspot near Franklin and 12th. Three zombies down. Street’s quiet now, but not for long.”

Static popped, then Mikhail’s voice came through—tired, tight, but still solid. “Any sign of survivors?”

Carlos glanced around. Stores looted, cars burned. A stroller overturned on the sidewalk, a tiny teddy bear lying beside it with one eye torn off.

“No civvies. Just more bodies.”

A pause. Then Mikhail’s voice, quieter: “Keep looking. We’re not leaving anyone behind.”

Carlos nodded, even though no one could see him. “Yeah... copy that.” He clicked off the comm, took a long breath, and started moving again.

“Better be someone out here left to save,” he muttered. “Otherwise this is just one big fuck-you from the universe.”

He reloaded, shouldered his rifle, and stepped into the next block.