Apocalypse: King of Zombies-Chapter 362: No way... no way...
"..."
Everyone fell silent.
"Brian, don't talk nonsense if you don't understand. When she said 'aunt Flo,' she meant her period," the skinny guy explained patiently.
"Oh..." Brian finally got it and muttered under his breath, "Women are such a hassle."
Another awkward silence.
Everyone knew Brian was a total straight-shooter—zero filter, low emotional IQ. Not exactly the best with words.
But now wasn't the time to argue about that.
Outside, the sound of claws scraping against stone made their teeth ache. The growls were getting louder and closer—more of those things were gathering.
"This can't go on. The noise from the zombies is just gonna attract more of them. If a whole horde shows up—and worse, if a Zombie King appears—we're screwed," the skinny guy said, analyzing the situation.
Everyone's faces tightened with worry.
The girl looked especially guilty. Her eyes were red as she whispered, "It's all my fault... I'm the reason we're in this mess."
"You can't blame yourself. If anything, blame your aunt Flo," Brian said, trying to comfort her in his own clumsy way.
The skinny guy nodded. "Yeah, seriously, it's not your fault. We were sent to scout ahead anyway. Better to find out now than walk into something worse later."
"Exactly," the big guy with the muscles chimed in. "Besides, we're out in the middle of nowhere. Odds of a full-blown Zombie Horde forming here are pretty low."
The eight of them were the advance team from the shelter, sent to check if this route was safe. Worst case, they'd just head back the way they came in the morning...
"Awooooo~~"
Suddenly, a piercing howl echoed from outside—sharp, chilling, and loud enough to shake the valley.
All eight of them froze.
What the hell was that?
Then the ground began to tremble. The sound of countless footsteps thundered closer. The growls multiplied, overlapping into a chaotic roar.
A Zombie Horde was coming.
"Shit! That really is a Zombie Horde!" the skinny guy said, his senses razor-sharp.
...
Outside, Ethan had seen the whole thing unfold.
It started with the Rabies Zombies—they'd sent out a hunting signal.
Not long after, a shadowy figure appeared on top of a massive boulder. It looked like a wolf, but not quite. It raised its head and let out a long, eerie howl under the night sky.
Ethan understood immediately—it was calling the others.
Sure enough, from the forest behind, a flood of zombies began to emerge. Thousands of them. A full-scale Zombie Horde.
"Woof! Woof! Woof!"
The creature on the boulder barked furiously in the direction of the humans.
Ethan squinted. The thing had black and white fur, sharp fangs, and a savage glint in its eyes. It was a Husky.
He couldn't help but remember the infamous story of Big Ears getting chased by a dog.
Yeah... it had to be this one.
But then, behind the horde, another figure appeared—staggering, unsteady, like its head was too heavy for its body.
It was the Husky's partner: the Bighead Zombie King.
"Well, damn... it really is Bighead," Ethan muttered, eyeing the bizarre creature.
The Bighead Zombie King wasn't particularly strong—only a B+ class, about on par with Mist. He was one of the fringe Zombie Kings on the outskirts of San Diego. His job was to deal with small human incursions or minor threats.
Right now, there was still a dent on his forehead from where someone had nailed him with a rock.
"Motherfucker! More humans? You people just don't learn, huh? Think you can waltz into our turf? Kill them all!" he roared.
Zombies surged past him like a tidal wave, charging forward.
The rocky hill ahead was soon crawling with the undead.
They swarmed together, clawing and shoving at the massive boulder.
RUMBLE—
The giant rock, weighing dozens of tons, began to shift, grinding against the ground with a screech that made everyone's skin crawl.
Inside, the eight humans stared in horror, nerves stretched to the breaking point.
"Is... is the rock actually moving?"
The boulder trembled harder and harder. Then, with a groan, a narrow gap opened up. Cold night air rushed in, brushing against their necks like icy fingers. Everyone shivered instinctively.
Then came the hands.
Rotting, clawed, and frantic—zombie hands shoved through the crack, scratching and grabbing wildly, like demons clawing their way out of hell, desperate to drag them in.
"Oh shit! They're getting in!"
The skinny young man's face tightened. His name was Travis Quinn, and he was the de facto leader of the scouting team.
The big guy rumbled, "How many are out there?"
"No idea. But it's a lot!" Even though Travis was a psychic-type Awakener, he couldn't get an exact count.
The gap in the boulder was widening fast.
A zombie's head had already forced its way through, its jagged teeth snapping hungrily, jaws clacking with a sickening crunch. The stench of blood and rot filled the air—it was ready to tear them apart.
"We can't just sit here and wait to die. We fight our way out!" Travis said, eyes sharp with resolve.
"Hell yeah!"
A few of them had already been itching for action.
The big guy stepped up first, bracing both hands against the boulder. With a roar, he shoved forward with all his might.
BOOM!
The massive rock blasted outward, crushing a dozen zombies into a bloody pulp.
Travis unleashed his psychic power, sending out a wave of invisible mental spikes that pierced into the zombies' minds. One after another, they dropped like puppets with their strings cut.
A clear path opened up at the cave entrance—a temporary vacuum.
Behind him, Brian drew his kukri, the blade's hilt embedded with a fire-element crystal core. Flames burst to life along the edge, licking the air with heat.
Clearly, the shelter's weapon tech was shared among the teams.
"Let's go! Kill them all!"
The eight of them surged out of the rocky cave, moving as one.
"Well, well... look at you guys go," Bighead said with a smirk, watching from a distance.
He had three thousand zombies under his command. They had eight people. That was hundreds of zombies per person. He wasn't worried in the slightest. He waved his hand, signaling the horde to keep pressing forward.
Travis and the others cut down a wave of zombies, but another wave immediately filled the gap.
They made it out of the cave, only to find themselves surrounded.
Zombies packed the area wall to wall, their twisted faces snarling with bloodlust.
Among them were Rabies Zombies—more feral, more deranged, their eyes wild with madness.
The team's expressions darkened.
The big guy frowned. "There's way too many. I think we're seriously screwed."
"Don't panic. We can make it out of this!" Travis shouted, rallying them.
A real leader didn't just fight—he kept hope alive.
As the undead surged forward, the team fought back with everything they had. Each person unleashed their abilities, cutting down zombies left and right.
But no matter how many they killed, more kept coming.
Everywhere they looked—zombies. Just endless, snarling, rotting faces.
The girl who'd been on her period was breathing heavily now, clearly drained.
"If the shelter knows we're in trouble, they'll send backup, right?"
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"I doubt it," Brian said, shaking his head. "They'll just assume this route's a bust and take a detour."
"..." The girl's face went blank with disbelief.
But in that split second of distraction, a Rabies Zombie lunged at her from behind. Its matted, furry face slammed into her neck—and bit down hard.
"AHHH—!" she screamed, the pain ripping through her voice.
Brian's eyes snapped to her. Without hesitation, he swung his flaming kukri, slicing clean through the zombie's neck. The creature dropped, twitching.
But it was too late.
A chunk of flesh had been torn from the girl's neck. Her face twisted in agony as thick, dark blood poured out.
The scent of blood sent the surrounding zombies into a frenzy.
They surged forward, trampling over each other to get to her.
From a distance, Ethan watched it all unfold, his expression unreadable.
"No way... no way... Don't tell me they're actually losing to these bottom-tier zombies?"
...
