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🕑 Added 2025-05-17 09:36:48 +0000 UTCStay Alive
Chapter 28 - Escape Plan, Part 2
As if he were still a soldier carrying out a mission, Alan swung his machete with force and slashed the neck of the first infected in front of him.
Crack!
Alan’s steady hand, wrapped in bandages and covered with leather gloves, made every strike precise. In an instant, the infected's throat was torn open, bursting into a wave of blood as it fell to the ground, writhing before dying.
Argh!
The infected, seemingly telepathically connected, rushed out of the surrounding buildings at high speed.
“Damn it!” Alan shouted, sliding his right foot forward to kick an infected charging toward him.
“Move, now!”
Wasting no time, he attacked the second infected coming at him.
Crack! Crack!
Alan was careful not to sink his machete too deep into the muscles, allowing him to pull it out quickly and avoid getting stuck.
But at that exact moment, the machete got lodged in.
Without hesitation, Alan acted fast; he delivered a strong kick to the infected that nearly pinned him down, trying to break its neck before launching himself forward.
Without looking back, he grabbed the machete still embedded in the corpse and, spotting the dense horde of infected approaching from the left, sprinted toward the motorcycle.
Crack!
Breathing heavily, Alan severed the hands of a figure trying to grab him in one swift stroke. Without giving it a chance, he knocked the infected down and saw the lone black motorcycle parked there, silent like a lifeline.
He snatched the helmet from under the bike, put it on quickly, and started the engine. Holding his machete in his right hand, he desperately tried to kick the stand back in place so he could take off—but just as he was about to accelerate, an infected who had lost its legs bit down hard on his forearm, which was covered in thick bandages.
“You damned mutt!” Alan growled in anger.
He felt the bite but didn’t waste time checking if it had pierced the bandages.
Alan drew a knife with his left hand and stabbed it into the infected’s head through the eye socket. The blade barely pierced the skull, so he switched tactics and attacked the neck with force.
Freeing his arm, he slammed on the accelerator and shot off toward the road on the right.
In the motorcycle’s rearview mirrors, he saw Carlos and the others closing the building’s door. He let out a breath of relief; no one else seemed in immediate danger, so he focused on the road ahead.
“There’s a huge crowd of infected pouring out of the buildings…” Alan accelerated, riding over abandoned vehicles.
Despite being quite loud, the Yamaha motorcycle made it easier for Alan to move forward without issues.
All he saw were body parts, blood everywhere, and infected lunging at him with groans that sounded more like screams.
“Faster!” Alan pushed the accelerator all the way down, shifting gears to gain more speed. The engine roared as he dodged obstacles and jumped over debris.
Soon he spotted the buildings—and in the distance, the alley with the stairs leading to the rooftop. Gritting his teeth, he slowed down and swerved right… but leaned too far.
“Shit!”
Crash!
Alan hit the ground along with the motorcycle, but managed to roll away before the bike’s weight could crush his right leg. Fueled by adrenaline, he jumped to his feet and started running.
“Goddamn hell! Come and get me if you can!” Alan shouted defiantly.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
ROOOOAAAARRR!
The horde of infected roared and chased after him, emitting grotesque sounds that would paralyze anyone with fear.
But Alan kept a steady and agile pace thanks to his excellent physical condition—otherwise, they would have caught him already.
The younger infected ran swiftly, while the older ones, though slower, never stopped their pursuit. The stamina of these monsters seemed endless.
As he ran, Alan switched between his pistol and machete, slashing one infected’s neck and striking another in the head on the emergency stairs.
“Damn it!” Alan cursed, realizing he couldn’t retrieve his machete.
He gave up on it and quickly began climbing the stairs of a smaller building.
But to his surprise, the infected that had seen him ascend started climbing too. Alan cursed under his breath.
“Why didn’t I think of this before?” Alan knew he could have outpaced them by climbing earlier, but that was easier said than done.
These weren’t mindless, brain-dead zombies. They were infected by a fungus that preserved their original physical abilities—with superhuman endurance. If they hadn’t entered the building before, it was because they were learning and adapting.
“What now?” Alan thought, fully aware he couldn’t just run forever. Claire and the others were counting on him.
He surveyed the area: narrow, with only one way up the stairs. It was the perfect place to hold them off for a few minutes and buy his teammates time to escape.
“First, I’ll keep climbing—then I’ll think!” Alan shouted, knowing that panicking would only get him killed.
Unlike other emergency stairways, this one was enclosed in a narrow metal tube, giving him the advantage of facing the infected one at a time and slowing the rest down.
Alan took a deep breath and began climbing, each step echoing through the tight passage as the infected screamed and clawed from below, desperate to reach him.
