"Urgh—urgh!"
The moment Barry Clayton stepped into the corridor, he was met with a gruesome sight. Gagging, he stumbled to the wall and retched violently. Kael Voss wiped the blood from his survival blade onto the zombie's ragged clothes, then gave Barry a cold glance, saying nothing.
Looking out the sixth-floor corridor window, the floodwaters on the street were now less than two feet from pouring into the ground floor of the building across. Fortunately, the Helmsworth Tower sat on slightly higher ground, so its situation was marginally better.
Without bothering to descend any further, Kael and Barry shoved the kayak through the window. One after the other, they jumped out after it. It was the sixth floor, after all, and the floodwaters below were nearly shoulder-deep—it wouldn't kill them.
Clambering aboard the kayak, the two men began paddling across the street under Barry's guidance. Their destination was the third building on the opposite block, where Barry claimed he'd seen Scout Finch swim into earlier.
The place was an aging seven-storey apartment building, nestled between towering modern complexes like a forgotten relic—gloomy and drab.
Reaching a unit with an open window, they tied the kayak to the bars and climbed inside via the balcony. The flat was eerily quiet, devoid of any human warmth.
Barry glanced around cautiously. Seeing no immediate threat, he chuckled nervously. "Well, at least there's no zom—"
He didn't even get to finish his sentence. With a raspy snarl, an emaciated, white-haired corpse burst from the bedroom, clawed hands stretched toward him.
Barry shrieked and scrambled behind Kael.
Kael didn't hesitate. With a precise thrust, he drove his blade through the zombie's skull, ending its miserable existence.
Wrenching the blade free, Kael turned to Barry with disdain.
"Aren't you supposed to be a security guard? Can't even handle one zombie?"
Barry grinned sheepishly, scratching his head.
"Technically, yeah, but I'm just a rent-a-cop. Good at guarding doors, not so good at fighting monsters. I usually deal with women better than the undead, to be honest."
Kael let out a low snort. He despised smooth-talking cowards like Barry. They searched the flat quickly but found nothing. Kael gave a curt nod.
"Upstairs."
The stairwell was deathly silent. As they pushed open the reinforced steel door to the hallway, rats scattered across the floor—clear signs of decay and abandonment.
They ascended to the second floor. Both flats had their security doors tightly shut. Kael banged on each one, shouting:
"Scout Finch! You in there?"
One remained silent. The other responded with a low, guttural howl—devoid of any trace of humanity.
They continued in this manner, knocking and calling on every floor. By the time they reached the seventh, there was still no sign of Scout. Inside the final apartment, Kael stood in the living room, his face dark with tension.
Barry, trembling beside him, suddenly slapped his forehead as if remembering something.
"Oh—oh! Wait, I remember now. She said… she said she couldn't find her mum here, so she was going home. She lives in the Springbrook Estate. Maybe… maybe she went there."
Scout had mentioned her home to Kael once. The name was right. That meant Barry probably wasn't lying.
Kael nodded.
"Then we go—now. You're taking me."
Barry winced.
"Uhm… Kael, look outside—it's nearly dark. Those monsters get bolder at night. And the Springbrook Estate isn't exactly nearby. How about… we head out first thing in the morning?"
Kael glanced at the sky. He was anxious, yes—but if Scout had already run into trouble, rushing wouldn't help.
Besides, Helmsworth Tower was right across the street. He might as well check out the 21st floor while they were close. If he could complete Lyra Solis' request, they could leave at dawn.
…
Having made up his mind, Kael no longer pressured Barry. Instead, he gave him a long, assessing look. Barry instinctively shrank under the scrutiny, forcing a sycophantic smile as he tried to read Kael's intent.
"We'll rest here for a bit. You're security at Helmsworth Tower, right? What's on the twenty-first floor—any idea?"
"Oh, yeah, sure!" Barry nodded quickly.
"That's Wanhaitech—er, I mean, Wanhaitech Solutions. Celeste Thorne is their admin supervisor."
Kael raised an eyebrow. That sharp-tongued, conniving woman was an employee of Wanhaitech?
He hadn't expected that.
He'd only wanted to get some intel on Wanhaitech while they were alone, but this turned out to be more useful than anticipated.
Spurred by the question, Barry suddenly grew talkative. His tone dropped to something oddly wistful.
"You know… once I figured out what was happening that day, I was over the moon."
Kael blinked, confused.
"What did you say?"
Barry gave a strange, lopsided grin.
"I said, on July 4th, when the apocalypse hit… I was thrilled. I was completely out of my mind with happiness."
Kael: "…"
Kael stared at him in stunned silence. In the face of such an unprecedented catastrophe, this was the first time he'd heard anyone say they were happy. The sheer absurdity of it was almost too much to process.
But Barry went on, oblivious to Kael's discomfort.
"I was just a broke nobody—just a lowly security guard. I didn't have two pounds to rub together. Those few crumpled notes in my pocket? That was my entire fortune. If the world hadn't turned upside down, I'd probably be sleeping under a bridge right now."
"You know?"
He suddenly looked at Kael, his expression unreadable—somewhere between bitter and smug.
"Celeste Thorne was about to fire me right before it all started. This place might be called Helmsworth Tower, but it's owned by Wanhaitech. As the admin lead, she had the authority. And she was gonna use it."
"But then boom—suddenly the world turns into a zombie wasteland. Not ideal, sure—I mean, now I sleep with one eye open every night, wondering if it's my last—but at least… we're alive, aren't we?"
Kael didn't interrupt. He lit a candle in the living room, then pulled out a half-empty cigarette box he'd found earlier during their search. He tapped one out and placed it in his mouth.
Picking up a wallet from the table, Kael took a few crisp hundred-pound notes, held them over the flame, and set them alight—one by one—using the last to light his cigarette.
Seeing this, Barry hurried over and lit one for himself. Taking a long drag, he exhaled slowly, eyes unfocused as he continued:
"When I worked here, I used to watch all those suited-up men and women strut through the lobby. It pissed me off. I'd think—Why them? Why do they get to live like that?"
"I hated everything. Hated the world, hated the sky, hated myself for not being born into money. Even with good grades, I had to drop out early and find work just to survive."
He took another hard drag.
"That day—the day it all fell apart—Celeste told me she wanted to 'have a word.' I was sitting in the security booth, stewing in my thoughts, when suddenly all hell broke loose. People were screaming, bolting down the stairs—phones, shoes, bags flying everywhere. No one stopped to pick up anything."
"I didn't know what was going on. I opened the door to get a better look—and there was Celeste, barefoot, running downstairs like mad. She screamed at me, 'Barry! Go upstairs! Someone's been killed!'"