After quickly scanning between the few people, Henry Sutton's gaze finally settled on Emma Harris.

She smelled strongly, her whole body exuding an intense perfume scent. For girls who love beauty and dressing up, this is of course understandable. Now, however, this scent, which is highly alluring to men, had attracted the bloodthirsty, flesh-eating zombies.

“Hurry! Everyone, together—”

Henry Sutton growled as he charged forward a few steps, swinging his axe down hard at the head of the zombie at the very front. The filthy skull split open like a watermelon, oozing thick yellowish-white pus. The others were clearly stunned by the sudden turn of events, their minds freezing for a few seconds. Grace Sutton and David Thompson were the first to snap out of it, rushing forward with their weapons. One stabbed a dagger into the zombie’s shoulder, while the other smashed a hammer into the zombie’s jaw.

“Good! Aim carefully, attack their vital spots—”

Henry Sutton swung the fire axe again, forcefully chopping through another zombie’s neck. At the same time, he spoke quickly and in a low voice: “Don’t be afraid, the terrain here is in our favor. Zombies move very slowly. Lure them all over, circle around these cars and pillars, and we can take the chance to rush to the exit. Don’t panic, take it slow, let them form a single group chasing us from behind—whatever you do, don’t let them split up and surround us. We—we still have a chance.”

Unless absolutely necessary, Henry Sutton didn’t want to waste bullets. In civilized society, firearms are strictly controlled; it’s nothing like in foreign movies where you can easily get more ammo. He also didn’t know when he’d find the other supply crates he’d transported over. The current situation, though unexpected, was not a hopeless dead end. Besides, gunshots would definitely attract more zombies, and the infected appearing in the early stages of the outbreak weren’t particularly strong. Their only advantage was their numbers.

Grace Sutton’s hands were shaking badly, her chest heaving, breath rapid. David Thompson beside her was in much the same state, his eyes bloodshot, yet he still swung his hammer, smashing wildly at the already decapitated zombie.

Brian Cooper gripped his mop upside down and rushed forward a few steps. Hearing Henry Sutton’s instructions, he slowly retreated, cautiously staying on guard. He kept swallowing nervously, his muscles tense, sweat pouring down his forehead and face, his shirt already soaked through.

Chapter 3: Circling

Unconsciously, everyone began to instinctively obey Henry Sutton’s orders. This wasn’t blind obedience—his precise kills and sharp assessment of the situation had already left an indelible impression on the others. The best naturally lead; it’s one of the instincts of intelligent beings.

All the zombies gathered near the Mercedes were drawn over. In their simple, savage minds, living people were synonymous with “food.” This temptation was irresistible. They could only take the shortest route, at the fastest speed they could manage, howling and frenziedly lunging forward.

The center of the parking lot was packed with hundreds of cars, with the sloped exit as the endpoint, and the curved passage forming an irregular “O” shape. Henry Sutton’s plan was simple—fight while retreating, lure the zombies to chase them, and move counterclockwise around the passage in a single direction. When the horde reached the lowest part of the passage, the point farthest from the exit, everyone would speed up and escape the predicament safely.

Research in the future world showed: in the early stages of the outbreak, infected individuals moved at about three to four kilometers per hour. Compared to the average adult’s walking speed of five kilometers per hour, they were undoubtedly much slower. Especially when running, zombies simply couldn’t keep up. This would gradually change as the virus evolved in the infected, but for now, Henry Sutton’s plan was actually very sound.

“Thud—”

Henry Sutton chopped down another zombie. As the axe blade split the zombie’s head down the middle, the hideous creature’s cheeks puffed out, and under the immense pressure, one of its eyeballs suddenly popped out. The foul-smelling, ball-shaped mass spun through the air and struck Emma Harris on the shoulder at the end of the line.

This thing was harmless, really just a mix of protein and fat. But for a girl who, just hours ago, was still basking in the light of civilization, it was as terrifying as living through a horror movie. Emma Harris was instantly petrified, her eyes wide, teeth and body trembling violently, retching from deep in her throat… Suddenly, as if waking from a daze, she screamed desperately, flailing her arms and sprinting madly toward the exit.

The change was so sudden that even Henry Sutton didn’t react in time. The strong perfume scent, the screams from a living person’s mouth—infected were extremely sensitive to these things. Several zombies lingering at the back of the hunting pack immediately turned, howling excitedly, and charged head-on in a clockwise direction.

“Stop her—!”

Henry Sutton’s face changed dramatically as he chopped down the nearest zombie, shouting urgently and angrily, “Don’t let her get through. Grab her! Hurry, grab her—!”