Rewrite the Apocalypse dream (by Dee Cari) novel Chapter 244

Chapter 244 How Could You Do That To Your Own Mother?

The guards froze. Seeing the heavy grown woman tossed like a ragdoll by a slight, slender girl left everyone in absolute shock. The momentary distraction was all Joanna needed.

Finished

In a concussive flash of folded space, Joanna materialized right in front of Theresa. Theresa’s fingers convulsed to pull the trigger of her pearl-handled revolver, but Joanna’s hand clamped onto the weapon first, wrenching it away.

Before Theresa could even scream, Joanna launched a brutal punch directly into her jaw. CRACK. The force of the blow knocked Theresa out cold, her limp body collapsing onto the ash-covered asphalt.

Theresa’s remaining men recbiled in sheer terror, dropping their weapons as they stared at Joanna standing over their leader.

“It’s her!” one of the guards shrieked, his voice cracking with panic. “The Demoness!”

Panicked by the roaring flames and the sudden fall of their leader, Theresa’s men broke formation. They were trapped in a deadly vice, caught between the encroaching zombies and the terrifying figure of Joanna.

Most of the guards turned and ran blindly into the surrounding alleyways. However, a few desperate men thought they could take her. Three guards lunged at Joanná simultaneously, their weapons raised in a frantic attempt to cut down the threat.

Joanna didn’t even blink. Reaching into her pocket dimension, she pulled out her gleaming sickle sword in a fluid, lethal motion.

The curved blade cut through the ash-filled air like a crescent moon. With a series of lightning-fast, blinding slashes, Joanna danced through their clumsy assault. Swinsh. Swinsh.

Three heads leave their shoulders before either body understands what has happened, rolling to a stop against the curb in near-perfect unison.

The remaining guards who witnessed the effortless slaughter shrieked in terror, completely abandoning the fight. They scrambled away into the shadows, leaving the street entirely to Joanna, the unconscious Theresa, and the chaos of the zombie cluster.

Joanna wiped a stray drop of blood from her cheek, her cold, detached gaze turning toward the chaotic cluster of zombies.

Gwen was trapped in the center. Having been thrown like a ragdoll into the fray, she was completely disoriented and buried beneath a sea of decaying limbs. She shrieked, flailing wildly as the rotting, undead swarmed her, drawn by her screams. A decayed hand clawed into her hair, jerking her head backward with a sickening snap.

Gwen’s eyes locked onto Joanna through the smoke, her bloody lips parting to beg for help. Joanna didn’t move an inch.

The undead swarmed Gwen with a frantic, mindless hunger, their weight forcing her to the ground. In the chaos of the fray, the first bite landed with staggering force on her shoulder, Gwen’s scream cutting through the air as the struggle grew increasingly desperate.

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10:46 am

Chapter 244 How Could You Do That To Your Own Mother?

Finished

Pinned against the cold asphalt by the sheer number of the horde, she stood no chance as they closed in. Every attempt to fight back was met with more decaying hands and snapping jaws. The sounds of the struggle and Gwen’s fading cries filled the air as she was eventually overwhelmed and pulled down onto the ash-covered pavement.

Joanna watched it all unfold without a single flicker of emotion. The mother who would have sold her out was finally receiving her payment.

The explosion had melted the frost on the cobblestones, but as the black smoke billowed upward, heavy winter snow continued to fall, dusting the ruins in white.

Theresa moaned as she began to regain consciousness, her eyes fluttering open before locking onto Joanna with pure hatred. “How could you… how could you do that to your own mother?”

Joanna looked down at Theresa, who was struggling to sit up on the freezing pavement. Large snowflakes melted instantly against the hot asphalt, while others dusted Theresa’s lavish, ash-streaked fur coat.

“You should be asking yourself how you are getting away from them!” Joanna pointed a finger toward the approaching horde. The undead looked like grotesque statues, their decaying shoulders piled high with fresh snow as they shuffled forward.

Terror completely washed away Theresa’s anger.

“Save me!” Theresa stuttered, her breath pluming in the freezing morning air as she shook with desperation. “I can give you anything! Just save me! My nephew… he will reward you…”

Joanna gave a cold, hollow laugh. She took a step closer, letting the pale light glint off the edge of her weapon. “Ever been sliced open?”

Theresa stares at Joanna’s bloody sickle sword and the words settle into her chest like a stone. Panicking, she scrambles backward through the crimson-stained snow on her hands and knees, trying desperately to

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