Chapter 52

Chapter 52 A Race For Resources
For the ride back, any functioning vehicle from this highway jan would do just fine! Theresa released the dogs, assigning two to remain with Kyle for support. The rest bounded after her, rearly to assist. The area surrounding the crash was eerily quiet, devoid of undead. Clearly, Kyle’s team had already done a thorough sweep the day before.
She picked her way through the mangled wreckage, boots crunching over shattered glass and twisted metal, until she reached the toll station. One of the manual booths still had a lone zombie trapped inside, clawing aimlessly at the glass. It was still clad in a toll station attendant’s uniform, a crooked hairnet clinging uselessly to the matted strands of its hair. Her gaunt, lifeless face—once made up with perfect cosmetics—was now nothing but withered skin stretched tight over bone, spiderwebbed with pitch–black veins writhing like parasites across her cheeks and arms, Fınd the newest release on
From the narrow slit in the fractured booth window, it strained forward, pale dead eyes locked with ravenous glee onto Theresa. What remained of its arm pushed forward–just a gnawed stump ending in a single bone–finger, twitching with desperation as it scraped at the air toward her. Raah!
Clang! In one fluid motion, Theresa slid a long–handled shovel through the narrow opening and struck. With precise force, she dragged it sideways in a slicing arc. As she withdrew the blade, a glint of light caught on the edge–a crystal no bigger than a thumb had been dislodged, gleaming against the dull gray. The toll booth zombie collapsed instantly, crumpling like a puppet with its strings severed.
With a calm flick of her gloved fingers, she plucked the gleaming crystal from the fallen corpse and dropped it neatly into a plastic bag. As she turned to leave, her eyes drifted to the skeletal arm still hanging from the toll booth window–twisted, lifeless, grotesque. She reached into her pocket, pulled out an old, scratched arcade token, and flipped it through the air, the
in her palm. “Consider that your passage fee,” she said den glinting in the light before landing neatly
Down below, Kyle paused mid–motion, having caught the entire exchange. For a second, he just stared, completely floored. That woman was pure steel. Every move she made screamed power and precision, and every kill was clean, brutal, and eerily graceful–like she’d danced this dance a thousand times before. maybe more. No wasted energy, no fumbling–just raw, deadly efficiency.
shame. Her movements carried She moved with such lethal precision, it humbled even him–who’d endured elite military training and was a hardened soldier, yet her combat style put him and his team all to no hesitation, no wasted motion–just pure, brutal efficiency. But what truly unsettled him was that maddening contradiction she embodied. There was a ruthless charm to her a poised savagery that turned carnage into choreography.
The more ruthless she became, the more captivating she appeared. Like a lone beast, comered but composed, every strike of hers screamed of deadly beauty and terrifying control. And dmn it all–she’s a woman! It wasn’t just impressive. It was breathtaking! After watching her tear through that zombie without blinking, he felt completely reassured leaving the overpass to her. Then, with a fire lit under him, he threw himself back into clearing the wreckage.
With an iron shovel swinging lazily at her side and several dogs darting around her heels, Theresa cut a lone figure of menace and command. “Lucky, Cash, eyes forward. Biscuit and Penny, cover my rear. Ace, Snowy, watch both wings.” Vehicle after vehicle, she scouted with a practiced eye–checking interiors, fuel gauges, ignition switches. Finally, she found a delivery truck, still alive with fuel, keys dangling, engine pristine. She tagged it in her mind as their ride back and shot a message to Kyle. With that handled, she didn’t waste another second–vaulting past the truck to plunder the next one, eyes sharp for anything worth claiming
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Chapter 52 A Race For Resources
She sprang up and landed squarely on the rear bumper of a container truck, gripping the metal bar with one hand. Without tools or hesitation, she wrenched the lock straight off–raw force made effortless by thR unnatural strength gifted to her through the system. The doors creaked open to reveal a cavern packed
upon dozens of delivery boxes stacked tightly. with scaled parcels.
Without a moment’s pause, she drained the entire stockpile into her domain, not even sparing a glance to see what she’d just hauled in. Surprises could wait. This was a race for resources, not curiosity. Once the trock was emptied, she wasted no time–launching herself toward the next delivery truck like a predator moving to its next kill. Every container–style vehicle was pried open with brute force–locks shattered beneath her enhanced strength. As for the open–bed trucks, she barely broke stride vaulting onto their roofs, ripping through the rain tarps like they were paper, and dropping straight into the cargo holds to plunder..
Each vehicle poured out roughly 350 cubic feet of goods into her storage. By the time she finished working through the forty to fifty trucks, her inventory had swollen by more than 14,000 cubic feet! To put it into perspective, that was enough to stuff a 2,000 square foot house to the rafters with supplies, and still be looking for shelf space!
But not every haul was a win. Three of the trucks turned out to be refrigerated carriers. The moment she cracked one of those doors open, a foul wave of rot blasted her in the face. Everything inside had decayed into a reeking sludge. After all, the apocalypse had been dragging on for over a month–without power. those frozen goods didn’t stand a chance. Wrinkling her nose, she backed off and left them behind.
Just as she finished draining the last of the supplies, a message crackled through her earpiece–Kyle had done his part. “Theresa, the road’s open. We’re set.” At that moment, she stood atop a truck like a lone sentinel surveying a battlefield, ready to head back when something in the distance snagged her attention. Roughly a kilometer ahead, wedged tightly among a tangle of abandoned vehicles, were three large tank trucks.
Her gaze narrowed. Behind them–just barely visible–stood the unmistakable structure of a gas station. Her pulse quickened. Fuel! “Kyle, move the marked vehicle down first. Once it’s clear, bring up the armored car to clear the overpass. We need a lane open to take those tankers!” He responded instantly, “Got it!” Without wasting a second, she sprinted toward the distant gas station, her loyal dogs thundering after her. As she approached, the lurking figures of zombies finally came into view.