Apocalypse Ground Zero: Refusing To Leave Home

The roots dragged Gu Han beneath the road and closed over him.

I didn’t wait to see whether he had anything else to say. The pavement was already breaking apart beneath my feet, the marked people were still screaming under the houses, and several hundred zombies had decided the cul-de-sac was the most interesting place in the city.

Gu Han could stay buried for all I cared.

The creature behind me collapsed as my plants pulled the last large core from its body. What remained of the fused corpses folded against the ruined house, with loose arms and half-rotted heads continuing to twitch even after the main body stopped moving.

My roots handled those too.

Green power poured through them until every plant beneath the street felt swollen and restless. Vines pushed through cracks in the pavement, snapped at passing zombies, and tore chunks from the creature whenever something tried to move again.

That part was going well.

The rest was a mess.

The threads inside my calf were still open. Killing the creature had removed the heavy pressure coming from the tunnel, but the marked people beneath the houses remained connected to whatever was waiting farther below the city.

The zombies felt them.

Every time one of the prisoners moved, another section of the horde changed direction.

Zhenlan sent lightning across the northern barricade, dropping the first row of zombies before they could climb over the crushed vehicles. Chenghai caught one that made it into the yard and threw it through the front of Gu Han’s ruined house, while Yuche pulled sheets of metal from the overturned trucks and raised them across the widest openings in the street.

Lingyun remained near the kitchen window. He had stopped pretending his ribs didn’t hurt, but he was still burning anything that came close enough to become our problem.

I pressed my hand over the bite on my calf.

The threads were different from mine.

Mine felt old, deep, and stuck somewhere inside the bone. The newer ones were thinner. Some had only been there for days or weeks, and the connection hadn’t settled properly yet.

I might be able to cut them.

That didn’t mean I could heal the people attached to them. The bites would still be there, along with whatever damage Gu Han had caused while moving them around. Some were already too far gone to survive much longer.

But cutting the threads might stop every zombie in the area from treating them like dinner bells.

That seemed useful.

Chenghai saw me looking toward the open basement entrances and moved closer. "What are you doing?"

"I’m going to try something," I replied with a casual shrug.

His face immediately said he disliked that sentence.

Before he could decide I needed to be carried back to the SUV, I sent my roots into the basements.

They moved through the open doors and along the concrete floors until they reached the marked people. I kept the roots away from skin wherever possible, wrapping them around chains, broken furniture, or the walls beside them.

The woman with the shattered leg was the easiest to find.

Her thread pulled through the bite on her shoulder and stretched far beneath the city. I followed it only far enough to find where the newer mark ended and the rest of the connection began.

Then I cut it.

The thread snapped inside my head.

The woman screamed and every zombie facing her basement stopped at once.

Some remained frozen for several seconds. Others turned toward the nearest living person or loudest sound, suddenly confused now that the pull had disappeared.

The woman sagged against the metal holding her upright. Her bite remained black and ugly, but she wasn’t dragging half the horde toward herself anymore.

"One down," I muttered.

Zhenlan moved beside me, close enough that his arm pressed against mine. "Can you do the rest?"

"I think so." It wasn’t a promise, but it was all I had.

I found the next thread and cut it. Then another.

Each one hurt differently. Some snapped cleanly, while others stretched until I had to force more of the stolen green power through my roots and tear them apart.

A man beneath the house across the road stopped breathing before I reached him. His thread faded on its own, leaving nothing for me to cut.

The others survived.

At least for now.

By the time I severed the last connection beneath the cul-de-sac, my calf felt as if something had chewed through it from the inside. Chenghai had both hands around my waist, and Zhenlan held my wrist because I had apparently started digging my nails into the old scar.

The change in the street was immediate.

The zombies stopped moving like one body.

Some attacked the nearest houses. Others turned on Gu Han’s men or followed the gunfire still coming from the rooftops. Several wandered back toward the broken barricades as though they had forgotten why they climbed over them.

They were still zombies.

They were simply normal stupid zombies again.

"Better," I grunted.

Then my knees gave out.

Chenghai lifted me before I hit the road. He tucked me against his chest and carried me toward the SUV while Zhenlan stayed close enough to keep one hand against the back of my leg.

"I’m fine," I told them.

Neither man answered.

That usually meant they didn’t believe me.

Lingyun burned the last zombie between us and the vehicle, then stepped back into the shelter of the broken wall. Sweat covered his face, and the stain beneath his vest had grown, but he was still standing on his own.

Yuche looked toward him from the middle of the road. "Sit down."

Lingyun glanced at the burning kitchen behind him. "Where?"

Yuche tore the driver’s seat from one of Gu Han’s ruined trucks and dropped it near the wall.

Lingyun stared at it for a second before sitting.

That solved the problem without anyone touching anyone.

Good.

The remaining people inside the cul-de-sac slowly started appearing once they realized the zombies weren’t pouring toward the basements anymore. A woman came out of the house across the road with two children behind her. Several armed men climbed down from the rooftops after running out of ammunition, while others started dragging bodies away from the doors.

No one knew what to do next.

That seemed to be a common problem around Gu Han.

A man with blood running down one side of his face approached the SUV. He stopped several feet away after Chenghai looked at him.

"Gu Han?" he asked.

"Dead," I replied.

The man looked toward the cracked road. He didn’t seem surprised. "What happens to us?" he asked after a moment.

I stared at him. "How would I know?"

His eyes moved toward the surrounding houses, the ruined vehicles, and the people coming out of hiding. "You killed him."

"Yes."

"So you’re taking over?"

"No."

He looked confused enough that I almost understood why Gu Han had managed to stay in charge.

I pointed toward the overturned trucks. "Your food is still here. The weapons that aren’t bent are still yours, and the people under the houses need water, food, and someone who knows how to set a broken leg. Pick someone less stupid than Gu Han and figure it out."

The man opened his mouth.

I raised one finger. "Not me."

He closed it again.

Much better.

Yuche walked into Gu Han’s largest house while Zhenlan and Chenghai kept the street clear. The building had lost most of its front wall, but the back rooms remained standing. If Gu Han had kept records anywhere, they were probably inside the house he had chosen for himself.

Lingyun watched Yuche disappear through the rubble. "Should we burn it after?"

"After he gets the papers," I said.

Lingyun nodded and rested his head against the back of the stolen truck seat. At least setting things on fire gave him something to look forward to.

The marked survivors were brought out one at a time.

No one tried to bring them near me. Gu Han’s people carried them into the open yards, cut away the remaining chains, and gave them whatever water they could find.

The woman with the broken leg stayed conscious. When she saw me near the SUV, she lifted one shaking hand.

I didn’t know whether she was thanking me or asking for something.

Either way, I wasn’t walking over there.

Cutting the tether was enough.

Yuche returned less than ten minutes later with a metal lockbox floating beside him. He set it on the hood of the SUV and peeled the lid open.

Inside were maps, handwritten notes, and sealed envelopes marked with dates.

Gu Han had kept everything.

Of course he had. Men like him always assumed their records would prove how smart they were later.

Zhenlan sorted through the papers while Chenghai continued holding me. Most of the notes repeated what Han Zhi had already found: subject numbers, routes, zombie reactions, and shelters Gu Han wanted emptied.

Then Zhenlan found a tunnel map.

Several routes had been drawn beneath the eastern districts. One connected the cul-de-sac to an abandoned municipal pumping station closer to the city center.

The same location appeared on six delivery notes.

Yuche opened one of the sealed envelopes. There was no name inside, only a short instruction written in blocky black characters.

Move two marked subjects through the eastern tunnel. Leave one at the residence route. Keep the second for collection.

Below it was a date from nine days earlier.

The day Gu Han bought the extra restraints.

Chenghai took the paper from Yuche and turned it over.

A second message had been written on the back.

When the woman opens the road, do not follow her. Report where the roots turn.

I read it twice.

Someone hadn’t simply taught Gu Han how to use the marked people.

They had been waiting for me to react.

Zhenlan unfolded the tunnel map completely across the hood. A thin red line ran from Gu Han’s cul-de-sac to the pumping station, then continued west beneath the city.

The last section disappeared off the edge of the page.

Someone had torn away the part showing where it ended.

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