The night is filled with the kind of quiet that isn't safe. The kind that makes your skin itch because you know something is out there… waiting.
Trish and I move in sync, stepping over loose stones and dried blood patches as we creep toward the cave entrance. The others stay behind, shadows hunched in the low light, their silence just as heavy as the air.
I keep my knife raised and my grip tight enough that the leather-wrapped handle digs into my palm. Trish mirrors me, her blade shining faintly in the sliver of moonlight creeping through the cave mouth.
Outside, the shuffling grows louder. The moment I step out, a rancid smell hits me first. It is thick, rotten, and hard to miss.
One I knew quite well belongs to Zombies.
I exchange a glance with Trish. She crinkles her nose. "Shit."
I nod. "Yeah."
Carefully, we inch forward until we're fully outside. The cave entrance looms behind us like a gaping mouth, but out here, the real monsters shuffle and groan.
