Chapter 9: Crystal Core

Evelyn POV

Fortunately, the zombies upstairs hadn’t made it down to the eighth floor yet. We reached the eighth-floor emergency exit without further incident.

Pushing open the exit door, we took only a few steps before hitting another closed iron gate fitted with a password lock.

I reached it first and shoved. Nothing. It didn't budge.

Jo dropped her eyes awkwardly. She wasn’t the warehouse manager for the mall and had no idea what the password was.

"Give me a minute," she said, voice low, fingers already hovering over the keys. "Maybe I can—"

She looked up at the lock, then swung her backpack off and unzipped it, pulling out the laptop.

I was out of time.

I raised my hand and placed it over the password lock. A flash of white light flickered, and thick smoke suddenly billowed from the lock.

“Pop…”

Flames flared for a split second. The password lock was completely fried, and the iron gate slowly creaked open.

I yanked the bolt free and cracked the door open.

Jo stuffed the laptop back in her bag. Said nothing. But I felt her stare linger on me for a second.

I pulled a folding steel plate from my pack and wedged it between the handle and the frame, jamming the door shut. Whatever was up ahead, at least the route behind us was sealed.

The moment the gate swung open, a thick stench of blood hit us first.

No power in the warehouse.

Rows of shelves stretched from the floor all the way to the ceiling, loaded with shrink-wrapped pallets, crates, bottled drinks, canned beverages and cardboard boxes. The supplies were abundant. Jo had been right.

I grabbed a bottle from the nearest shelf, twisted the cap off, and hurled it into the dark.

The glass shattered on the floor with a sharp crack—

Then I heard movement.

A blood-soaked zombie with scarlet eyes knocked over a shelf, lunging toward the sound from the drink bottles.

Right after that, two more zombies in supermarket uniforms leaped out from the shadows.

There really were zombies here!

“Take cover!”

I tightened my grip on the bat and walked toward the dark.

The baseball bat glowing with pale white light slammed hard into the back of a zombie’s skull

Only this time, the baseball bat that had never failed me didn’t blow the zombie’s head apart. It only sent the creature into full-body convulsions, temporarily crippling its movement. One strike wasn’t enough. I spun around and swung again.

The zombies were evolving.

Last time I'd used this bat, one hit caved in a skull. Now it just made the thing twitch for two seconds.

No time to think. I swung again, aimed for the back of the head, harder this time. It convulsed again and dropped, skull hitting the floor. Didn't move after that.

But the other two were getting closer.

I ran toward the collapsed section of shelving. More cover there. More shadows.

I ran and pulled the bat back into the ring, swapping it for the shovel—steel blade, wooden handle. Heavier than the bat, but the striking surface was bigger.

The fastest female zombie closed in.

Her matted hair clung to her face. She moved quicker than I’d expected, far steadier than the previous one.

The moment she lunged, I sidestepped and swung the shovel backhand—the blade caught the side of her head. I felt the weight of the impact, heard the dull crack. She pitched sideways.

I stepped in, kicked her square in the chest, knocked her flat, then lifted the shovel and drove it down, blade first.

I looked down at the blade.

No white light.

I stared at the wooden handle for a second. The bat was aluminum—conductive. The ability traveled through it. But wood doesn't conduct. The blade was steel, but there was a wooden shaft in between. The power couldn't cross.

Remember that.

The female zombie was down for good. I had barely pulled the shovel free when the male zombie right on her heels lunged at me.

I braced the shovel against its lunge. It was stronger than I'd thought. It shoved me back two steps before my heels hit the base of a shelf and I managed to hold.

Then I heard a metallic clang, sharp and rapid.

The zombie’s head snapped around.

I used that second. Kicked off hard, shoved it back, swung the shovel horizontal—the blade cut into its neck. I felt the vibration of bone snapping travel up the handle. It dropped and didn't get up.

Jo was crouched behind a shelf, right hand holding a jagged piece of metal, left palm turned up. Blood.

I let out a long breath and was about to thank Jo, when a look of terror crossed her face.

Out of the shadows, a figure sent several shelving units tumbling one after another, charging straight for Jo at blistering speed.

“Ah…”

Shaking with fright, Jo instinctively held up her rucksack and ducked her head behind it.

“Jo…” I yelled, spotting a figure that’d popped out of nowhere at the same time.

It was a stocky zombie, soaked in blood, its bloody jaws hanging open. Its crimson eyes blazed with rage.

Unlike the blank, glassy stare of the other zombies, this one seemed to have a flicker of smarts.

I threw the shovel.

The blade spun through the air. I'd aimed for its head—but it shifted. The shovel grazed its shoulder, clanged against the wall behind it, and clattered to the floor.

An image flashed in my mind—came out of nowhere: black clouds, a bolt of lightning trailing fire, tearing down from the sky and splitting something in half.

White light shot from my palm.

Not the slow seep from before—this was a beam, compressed and sharp. The moment it hit, I heard the crack of electricity, louder than anything so far. The air filled with the smell of burning.

Its body locked up.

The skin started to blacken, like it was being cooked from the inside. White smoke poured from its joints. The sharp red light in its eyes dimmed, fading to a dull grey.

It twitched. Fell. Then—

Exploded.

I turned and threw my arm up in front of my face. Black liquid and shattered pieces splattered across the floor, the shelves, my arm. The stench hit instantly, thick and sour. I held my breath and listened to the sound of debris settling.

Silence.

I lowered my arm and looked down.

In the middle of the black wreckage, something was glowing—about the size of a fingernail, yellow, like a polished pebble with a faint halo around the edges.

Then I heard it. The voice—mechanical, calm, like someone had turned the volume down to almost nothing:

"Level-one fire core detected. Reward: five hundred square meters."

I hadn’t expected the crystal core to be so valuable, and a surge of joy washed over me at once.

“Jo, are you alright?”

I helped Jo to her feet; she was shaking all over. My gaze on her was no longer cold, softened by a flicker of warmth.

If Jo hadn’t cut her palm to draw the zombie’s attention,I might’ve been dead today