How Zombies Survive in the Apocalypse

At a high school situated south of Santa Rosa.

On a shallow hill overlooking that school stood an apartment complex providing a panoramic view of the entire town.

While only three stories tall, the building’s interior lacked both elevators and staircases.

The sole means of accessing the upper floors were three external stairways leading from the main entrance into the apartment corridors – a peculiar structural design.

Even so, with the capacity to accommodate 20 households per floor across all three levels, a total of 60 units, this apartment complex couldn’t be easily overlooked by survivors seeking resources.

“Hmph…”

Currently hiding on the external stairwell of this apartment, a man let out a tense sigh.

Taylor Evans, a Latino male in his mid-30s and a former military serviceman.

He briefly examined the steel pipe gripped in his hand.

This pipe, aside from some superficial rust, had been in decent condition before entering this apartment complex.

However, it was now stained with thick, murky reddish-brown smears of blood and slightly bent in the middle section.

The result of his narrow victory against the two zombies he had encountered on the first floor.

Observing this, Taylor furrowed his brow slightly.

The bloodstains were of little concern.

But the bent pipe was problematic.

Each time he used such a deformed pipe to strike the zombies, the curvature would only worsen until it became entirely unusable.

Whether due to poor material quality or excessive force on his part… this weapon wouldn’t last much longer, it seemed.

Naturally, Taylor took stock of his remaining armaments.

Shook-

He cautiously brought the backpack slung over his shoulders to the front.

The first items protruding from the bag’s opening were a shovel and a wrench.

Unlike the hollow steel pipe, the wrench was undoubtedly a sturdy, solid implement forged entirely from metal.

While somewhat shorter in length, its weight and durability were incomparable to the pipe.

Additionally, the shovel Taylor possessed wasn’t an ordinary one but military-grade equipment.

From the handle to the shaft, it was constructed entirely of metal and could be folded for easy portability – a reliable melee weapon.

The bag also contained various miscellaneous items.

Bricks for throwing, firecrackers and an old emergency whistle to divert zombie attention, and even carefully stored molotov cocktails.

Finally, the chest rig Taylor was wearing had two longswords and an automatic pistol holstered, though firearms were considered an absolute last resort for a lone survivor like himself.

“…”

After examining his gear, Taylor retrieved the wrench. He slid it into one of the pouches on his rig for easy access whenever needed.

With his preparations complete, Taylor cautiously peered up the stairwell.

The external staircase from the first floor led directly onto the second-floor corridor.

Only two zombies were visible in that corridor at present. One near the staircase entrance, the other at the far left end.

Fortunately, the zombie at the far end had its back turned, unmoving.

Like zombies that had gone without stimuli for prolonged periods, it remained motionless – almost appearing deceased.

If that were the case, a stealthy approach from behind to eliminate it would suffice.

However, the nearby zombie posed a problem.

“Kiiie…”

Having likely heard the earlier commotion from the first floor, that zombie was rapidly swiveling its head, letting out low groans as if sensing the presence of potential prey.

In such an alert state, a silent assassination attempt would immediately draw its attention, prompting an attack.

Which left only one viable option: a frontal assault.

Not a particularly difficult feat.

Even if the noise alerted the zombie at the far end, Taylor was confident he could swiftly incapacitate at least one of them.

But there was one aspect he needed to consider first – the open apartment door directly across from where the zombies were situated.

While most doors were closed, that one gaped open invitingly.

If there happened to be any zombies inside, the exterior sounds could prompt them to emerge as well.

“Tsk…”

Feeling a sense of unease, Taylor clicked his tongue briefly.

With just one additional zombie, the timing would become precarious. Two at most would be his limit.

Three or more, and combat would be downright untenable.

However, Taylor had no way to confirm how many zombies might be lurking within that apartment unit.

To initiate an attack without verifying that would be an obvious gamble.

Rationally, he should have abandoned this apartment complex and withdrawn.

But the thought of leaving felt too regrettable. The only supplies he had managed to secure from the first floor were a mere canister of salt. Retreating now would render the risk he had taken to evade the zombies and reach this place utterly fruitless.

Yet that wasn’t his sole reason for hesitating.

There was something else he needed to obtain here, if possible.

Although he couldn’t be certain it existed within this apartment, he desperately wished to acquire it as swiftly as he could.

Taylor’s gaze sharpened with resolve.

As a final precaution, he surveyed their potential exit route once more.

If three or more zombies emerged from within the apartment, an immediate retreat would be unavoidable.

Fortunately, a school was located nearby.

Having already secured the surrounding area, fleeing in that direction wouldn’t pose significant difficulties.

“…Alright.”

Readjusting his grip on the steel pipe, Taylor steeled his resolve.

Drawing a deep breath to heighten his focus, he observed the zombie in the corridor.

At the precise moment its head turned in the opposite direction-

Thwack!

Taylor surged upwards from his crouched position on the stairwell, advancing rapidly.

Immediately after, the zombie reacted to the sound.

It had barely swiveled its head towards Taylor.

Crunch!

But a swift, forceful impact resounded as Taylor’s improvised weapon struck its skull.

That sickening sensation of blunt force shattering bone and pulverizing the decayed organs within reverberated through his hands.

Fortunately, his preemptive strike had scored a direct hit.

“Kiieeee…”

The zombie collapsed lifelessly, its head caved in.

But this was merely the beginning.

“Kiiiiiee!”

The zombie at the far end had finally noticed the commotion, letting out a piercing shriek as it charged towards Taylor.

The thunderous stomps of its bare feet against the concrete floor rapidly drawing nearer.

However, Taylor remained unmoving.

Rather than the approaching zombie, his peripheral vision was fixed on the open apartment door across the corridor.

Soon after, the number of zombies that emerged from that doorway was… two.

“…!”

That was still within his manageable threshold.

Having made that assessment, Taylor darted towards the incoming zombie first.

His intention was to eliminate one side before being surrounded from both fronts – the worst-case scenario.

“Kieeaaaaa!”

As if welcoming Taylor’s advance, the zombie thrust its arms forward as it closed the distance between them.

In the blink of an eye, they had entered close-quarters range, prompting Taylor to swing his pipe downwards with immense force.

Crunch!

The sickening sound of shattering bones resonated once more.

However, at that moment, Taylor’s expression contorted with dismay.

Rather than the zombie’s skull, the pipe had pulverized its extended arms instead.

Whether an unconscious self-preservation instinct or mere coincidence… the zombie’s limbs had inadvertently shielded its head from the strike.

“Uaaagh!”

Accompanied by that piercing shriek from the now severely diminished distance, the zombie gnashed its teeth as it lunged to tear into Taylor’s throat.

Taylor’s subsequent judgment was swift.

Whump!

He delivered a powerful kick to the zombie’s torso, creating some separation between them.

Then, discarding the bent pipe with a forceful throw, he drew the wrench from his rig instead.

Crunch!

This time, the heavy implement successfully caved in the zombie’s skull.

A tense exhalation escaped Taylor’s lips, his heart pounding rapidly in the aftermath of that frenzied skirmish.

However, he had no opportunity to catch his breath. The two zombies that had emerged from the apartment were already closing in right behind him.

And shortly after…

“Huff… huff…”

A breathless Taylor leaned against the stairwell railing for a momentary respite, gasping for air.

Around him lay four fallen zombies in total.

Even for a former military man, neutralizing that many with melee weapons alone was an impressive feat.

Yet there was no one present to commend his achievement.

So Taylor remained silent, simply focusing on recovering his strength while monitoring for any further movements nearby.

A few zombies from the upper floors and within the apartment seemed to have reacted to the commotion, but none appeared capable of reaching this area.

After that brief rest, Taylor entered through the open apartment door he had noticed earlier.

The interior, devoid of sunlight, was shrouded in thick layers of dust and darkness.

Immediately beside the entrance, atop a shoe cabinet, Taylor spotted a framed photograph. Within that palm-sized frame was the image of a couple – their physiques resembling the two zombies he had just dispatched.

“…”

Taylor regarded that photograph with a detached gaze before proceeding further into the apartment unit.

The second floor mirrored an identical layout to the first.

A small living room occupied the central area, with a kitchen and bathroom on one side while a bedroom and smaller room were situated on the opposite end.

Taylor’s first destination was the kitchen.

Fortunately, there were no unwelcome undead guests silently lurking within.

He searched the sink area and cupboards, eventually retrieving a single unopened can of preserved food – a meager discovery.

Next was the living room.

Aside from the TV stand and some storage cabinets, nothing particularly noteworthy caught his attention.

The bathroom yielded only a spare roll of unused toilet paper.

The door to the small room was locked.

So Taylor decided to inspect the bedroom last.

The bedroom entrance was sealed by a sturdy wooden door.

As a precaution, Taylor knocked on that door a few times.

Not because he expected any human presence, of course. But if there were any zombies inside, they would undoubtedly react to those sounds.

“…”

However, no response came from within.

Cautiously turning the doorknob, Taylor flung the door open wide in one swift motion.

The scene that greeted him within that bedroom was far different from his expectations.

“It’s collapsed, hasn’t it…?”

From the exterior, the building had appeared intact, but that clearly wasn’t the case inside.

The bedroom ceiling had caved in entirely, as if torn apart by some tremendous force.

The original bed and furnishings were crushed beneath the weight of that collapsed ceiling, reduced to splintered debris.

Such devastation made locating any useful supplies within seem highly improbable.

However, the angled descent of the caved-in ceiling created a sloping path leading up towards the third floor.

Naturally, Taylor’s gaze followed that upward trajectory in search of potential threats.

No apparent dangers could be discerned from this vantage point.

Carefully, he ascended that precarious slope into the third floor’s interior.

Whatever had transpired here, the damage was catastrophic.

The wall in the direction where the bedroom door should have been had crumbled entirely, its remnants strewn about haphazardly.

As Taylor surveyed that devastated scene, his attention was drawn by a sudden noise from outside the bedroom.

“Kiiiiik!”

Reacting swiftly to that nearby zombie groan, he glared sharply in its direction.

There, trapped beneath the collapsed wall debris on the bedroom floor, was a zombie.

Its lower body appeared to be pinned under a thick slab of concrete, rendering it immobile. As a result, despite noticing Taylor’s presence, the zombie could only let out shrill cries – unable to approach him even an inch.

Hardly a credible threat, by any measure.

And yet, upon witnessing that scene, Taylor’s brow furrowed deeply in discomfort.

For the zombie’s unnaturally small frame was distinctly child-sized.

Barely even a teenager, if that.

Which was why Taylor found himself momentarily hesitating to immediately bring his wrench down upon that helpless creature.

“Kieee!”

In response, the zombie seemed to thrash about even more violently, its anguished shrieks intensifying in volume.

A disturbing, pitiful spectacle.

Unable to bear witnessing its tormented state any longer, Taylor finally took action.

Crunch!

The heavy metal implement in his grasp struck that diminutive skull with a sickening impact.

However, was it due to his restraint that the blow lacked sufficient force?

The zombie didn’t instantly fall silent.

The wrench had merely caved in its skull slightly, not delivering a fatal strike.

With a contorted expression of distress, Taylor raised the wrench once more, raining another forceful blow upon that small, fragile head.

It was only then that the creature’s cries finally ceased.

“Goddammit…”

Taylor muttered a curse under his breath.

The rancid blood and crushed remnants of that child-sized skull staining the wrench’s end seemed to weigh heavily upon him.

For the past three years, he had terminated countless zombies in order to survive.

Yet situations like this still evaded his ability to become fully desensitized.

He let out a weary sigh, feeling utterly drained – despite his physical movements being relatively minimal compared to the earlier combat encounter.

A profound sense of fatigue washed over him, as if he had repeated that frenzied skirmish all over again.

However, Taylor soon shook his head, refocusing his bearings.

For the sake of the daughter still awaiting his return at their shelter, he couldn’t afford to linger here any longer.

Leaving that devastated bedroom behind, Taylor emerged into the living room area.

Much like the bedroom, it too had suffered catastrophic damage.

As if a gas explosion had torn through the interior, the shattered windows merely hinted at the ruination within – shattered concrete, exposed rebar, and a severely compromised ceiling structure on the verge of total collapse.

Any further exploration would be too hazardous.

Having reached that conclusion, Taylor began retreating back towards the exit.

Yet, during that withdrawal…

“Ah…?”

The small room adjacent to the bedroom caught his attention.

Through the gap where the wall separating the living room and that small room had collapsed, he spotted something he had been seeking.

It was a plush doll depicting a once-popular white cat character.

“…”

Upon making that discovery, Taylor’s eyes widened in realization.

Of course, a mere toy held no practical value for survival.

However, Taylor had personal reasons for seeking such an item.

His daughter, who awaited his return at their shelter, hadn’t smiled in what felt like an eternity.

A once lively, talkative child had become almost entirely muted ever since her mother’s passing and their entrapment within this small town’s confines.

Pondering how to rekindle her spirits, Taylor had recalled her favorite cartoon character.

And noticed that the plush doll she had always carried was now missing, likely lost during their perilous journey to this town.

So he had hoped to find her a new doll as a gift, praying it might help restore her smile.

Which was why Taylor couldn’t simply ignore that doll visible through the ruined wall.

However, there wasn’t an immediately accessible entrance leading into that small room. The wall had collapsed, and the doorway was obstructed by debris that had cascaded down from the caved-in ceiling above.

The gap Taylor was peering through had originally been the door’s intended location.

“…”

After briefly contemplating his options, Taylor decided to gradually clear away the rubble centered around that small gap in the floor.

The doll wasn’t situated too far beyond that opening.

If he could create enough space to extend his upper body through, it should be within reach.

So he carefully worked at widening that gap, anticipating that he could eventually create an opening large enough for a person to squeeze through.

And Taylor’s expectations proved accurate.

After an extended struggle against the accumulated debris, he managed to carve out a sizable space before him.

Crawling inwards, Taylor’s upper body breached that small room’s interior, and his hand soon grasped the plush doll he had spotted.

While slightly soiled and coated in dust, its soft texture remained intact.

A faint smile spread across Taylor’s lips.

At that moment.

Bang!

Something hit the wall facing outward.

Now he noticed there was a zombie at the window in the corridor leading from the small room.

It was staring at Taylor with a crazed look.

As if exposing his theft, it frantically pounded on the closed glass window and wall.

“-!”

Seeing this, Taylor sensed danger.

He desperately tried to squeeze through the gap to escape, but.

Before he could fully extract his body, what he had been worrying about happened.

Rumble!

Above the hole he was pushing his body through, the precariously balanced debris collapsed first.

Taylor’s vision was engulfed in darkness.