Your Highness, zombies are coming

This is not a prank - the man concluded based on his many years of experience in the industry. He was tense and tried to comfort the other party with the calmest voice: "Where are you? I will rush there immediately."

"It's useless. I didn't come to ask for help. Listen, Isa, listen carefully." The young man's voice was not loud, and he seemed to be quite vigilant about the surrounding environment. "They've moved outward, and the whole Commonwealth will be infected, and the more people there are, the more these things will grow, and a lot of people will die and turn into monsters. The army men are already here with us, fully armed, but We can't last too long." "Stop, Carlo. You can't talk like a movie protagonist who is about to die. Explain it to me from beginning to end." Issa connected the phone to the computer, and quickly typed keystrokes in an attempt to determine the location of the incoming call through the location system.

"No time to explain, do you remember the game I played when I was a kid? I forgot the name, a horror game that Uncle Andrew said was too bloody for me to play, and the dead people in it were infected with a virus and came back to life like crazy Running after the living, what’s happening now is similar to that above.” The signal got worse and worse, and the voice on the other end of the phone gradually became indistinct.

Hurry up, hurry up. The man stared at the display screen, the radar pattern used for positioning on it kept rotating, and he said emphatically, "Tell me where you are, damn it, if you're a man, be more decisive."

"You will know where I am soon." Carlo said in a perfunctory tone. At this time, the communication voice in the communication was so loud that it was difficult to communicate. The quality of such communication is only Issa's business trip in the Middle East Only then can we meet.The uneasiness in his heart spread like a black hole, and he wanted to ask a few more questions, but the phone signal had been cut off.

Goodbye, brother.The last words of that bloody brat.

God, who is this sissy personality inherited from?Issa didn't spend too much energy on complaining, he stared at the display screen, the location system on the computer had already shown the location of the call, in fact, it was the landline number of the Redwood National Park Forestry Bureau, when he wanted to call back When dialing, the number has been recorded as an empty number.

I had to get there right away, and he grabbed the car keys and sprinted to the garage like a sprinter losing his mind.Since the mission is still ongoing, the commonly used weapons have been placed in the back of the carriage.Before he started the accelerator, the cell phone rang inappropriately, it was a call from an old partner.The other party seemed to need his help, so they talked about the commission straight to the point.

"I'm not free." The man said coldly, thinking about ending the conversation.

"Oh, don't tell me you have a private job, the boss won't let you do it." The person on the other end yelled, as if he wanted everyone around him to hear it.

"I'm going to the redwood forest now. The damn kid at home has an accident. God bless your head to remember and tell the boss." Issa said.

"You can't go there!" the other party yelled, and before Issa hung up the phone, he explained: "The road leading to the mangrove forest is blocked by the Forestry Bureau, saying that there is a possibility of a volcanic eruption, but the army's Armored cars are going there too, maybe it's a terrorist attack, man."

"When did it start?"

"One week, or more Isa, my friend, I heard from the old man, even if you get there, it won't help, the communication is completely closed, even if you are Superman, you can't find Carlo from a virgin forest, maybe it will be blocked in two days Release him and go home completely."

"Jason," Issa leaned on the driver's seat, he closed his eyes tiredly, and countless thoughts flashed through his mind. "Listen to me, don't go on the quest. Something terrible is about to happen. Prepare your weapons, transportation, and food, and go to a place where there are few people."

Then hung up the phone directly.He didn't drive to the redwood forest, but picked a car modification company. Things developed faster than he imagined. The information control implemented by the federal government had little effect, and the news of the living dead spread like locusts.At first, it was just a horror story passed on by young people, but soon people discovered that those relatives and friends in different regions had lost news one after another. Panic tightened the throat of the masses like a twisted rope.

The supermarkets were looted, and the streets were almost deserted, but there were no news reports on the daily hot headlines, and those TV channels played more soap operas and advertisements than ever before, just like every long Do exactly the same on national holidays.On the sixth day after the call with Carol, Issa saw someone—at least at first, a middle-aged man in the most common morning jogging clothes, staggering, as if drunk .

Then he tripped over a lawnmower power cord, and the man of the family walked out the door, apparently aware of a mistake he had made in arranging his garden tools.The house was 100 meters away from Issa's study, not too close. The man raised the sniper rifle he had put aside, and through the long-range scope, he could clearly see the face of the drunk.

The man's skin was blue-gray like marble, and the blood vessels on his face were quite prominent, like severe varicose veins. His eyes were bloodshot, as if he was not breathing well.It seemed that he drank [-]% industrial alcohol. Although he was teasing in his heart, this scene was no different from an alarm to Issa. He looked to the other side, and the owner of the house was almost approaching the poor man.

The drunk man twisted his body and threw his head up suddenly. He began to grow his mouth, revealing those gums and teeth that were more developed than ordinary people.Issa was in no mood to continue watching. He pulled the trigger and hit the man directly on the head.

Isa knew better than anyone that it was not a good thing to attract attention now, so he left the room a little annoyed.The modified Hummer drove past the street where the incident happened, and the family had called the police. Through the screen window, Issa saw the hostess and children sitting inside the house.In fact, the time is just right. Once the epidemic breaks out in California, the troops in the Redwood National Park should not be able to worry about the blockade. As for the "homicide" that just happened, it should be regarded as my last contribution to the community.

All the way was unimpeded, and the road was a little scary empty.It wasn't until the edge of the redwood forest that bright yellow plastic roadblocks appeared, and the car slammed directly into it—two or three brown-skinned humanoid creatures appeared on both sides of the road, and they were still wearing black vests from the Forestry Bureau, baring their teeth. Crackclaw prepares to pounce on Issa's car.The man frowned. The bloodstains and bullet casings on the road already showed the fierce battle that had taken place. The GPS signaled him to turn right, and then he froze.

There is nothing ahead, specifically, there is only a khaki huge pit and the remains of trees. Perhaps a week ago, this place was still a forest that had been preserved for thousands of years. The so-called precious natural heritage that those environmental protection organizations would like to defend with all their wealth , but now the bullshit is not.

How could he not have imagined that when things deteriorated beyond control, those bigwigs in the political circles and the consortia behind them would adopt methods. If they could curb the rapid deterioration, a missile was nothing at all.Alas, sacrificing a national park won't save the federal government.Issa crouched for the rest of the road, the smell of nicotine not making him feel much better.

There were rustling sounds in the grass, and the man raised his eyes to see that it was a zombie whose face had been scorched, with hair and clothing fibers sticking to its body, which looked like a mass of mud.Issa stared at it, and the monster that was still eating was also staring at Issa.

"Hey, have you met my brother? His name is Carol." Issa said softly, and the zombie seemed to have destroyed its vocal cords, so it could only keep opening its mouth. "He's six feet, blond, and he's a really nasty guy, and his cronies call him The Thunderbolt...that's not a good nickname."

He stretched out his hand and shot the half-dead zombie on the forehead.

"If you see Carol, take me to say hello to him." Issa said, and then he stood up and couldn't help laughing—the zombie in front of him had even his lower limbs blown up, no wonder he could only stay in one place.

These monsters can 'live' no matter what, why would that alive and kicking kid just die like this.Taking a last look at the empty tomb, the man decided to head towards a wilderness in the south-central part of the country, staying in an area with low population density according to his pre-planned plan.

There is no one in the place where the car passes, only the boundless wilderness, sporadic zombies, sometimes a man thinks that such a life is meaningless at all, no one expects him to be alive, and no one knows that he is dead.He tried to go to the city, but it turned out that there was nothing but an unimaginably huge cemetery. Except for the supplies, an indescribable sense of emptiness was spreading in some parts, but he was always busy, so he didn't have time to experience it.