The Endgame Chronicles (by Hugh White) novel Chapter 392

The zombie tide behind Hayley’s team didn’t continue the chase.

Because there was still a huge batch of fresh, living food behind them!

As soon as Hayley reached the safe zone, she immediately looked back.

Yet, all she could see were zombies.

Monica’s people had gradually fallen farther and farther behind.

Hayley did feel some goodwill toward Monica, but she would never stop for them. If her own people hadn’t made it out, she would never put them at risk just to reach back and pull someone else. 1

She would always protect her own first.

When she saw Monica’s group completely swallowed by the zombie horde, a trace of regret flashed through Hayley’s eyes.

Just then, she saw the zombie tide split open.

The men who had broken away with Danny the day before were charging at the front. They slaughtered zombies like madmen, pushing their gifts to the limit and carving a bloody path through the closing mass.

Right behind them came Monica’s group of survivors. Everyone was charging forward for one reason: to live.

But mixed into that desperation was a sliver of responsibility and emotion.

At critical moments, the strong had to charge first. This was the most basic rule of survival.

Even in the animal world, the strongest antelope led the herd across deadly cliffs. Adult penguins formed the outer ring of the colony to shield the chicks from brutal storms.

The harsher the conditions, the clearer humanity’s animal instincts became.

Strong individuals could be domineering and selfish, but they also carried the obligation to stand at the front. After all, their enemy was not their companions; it was the shared enemy, the zombies.

If they didn’t cut a path forward, no one would.

“Raarh!”

A front desk clerk zombie in a hotel uniform burst out of the horde and lunged at the man leading the charge.

The man couldn’t dodge in time and was slammed from behind.

The zombie shrieked and bit into his left cheek, tearing off his left ear in one savage snap.

“Howard!”

The people right behind him shouted his name.

But Howard Feron seemed not to hear them. He kept shooting out elemental orbs at full force, a zombie hanging off his shoulder as he dragged himself forward. Even when most of his face had been eaten away, when his remaining eye slowly clouded over in gray, he still staggered on.

Until his steps finally stopped.

1.2

“Howard!”

At that moment, a woman carrying a child was shoved to the edge of the group, and two zombies lunged at her a the same time.

Just as she was about to be knocked down, a man with a zombie clinging to him slammed sideways into them.

He knocked both zombies away, then charged straight into the oncoming horde.

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