How Zombies Survive in the Apocalypse

“…It’s quieter than I expected.”

Aiden muttered those words as they ascended the densely forested mountain slope.

True to his statement, the cool, shaded woodland exuded an eerie stillness.

There didn’t seem to be any traces of the cannibals they had been apprehensive about encountering.

“What you can’t see doesn’t mean it’s not there.”

Taylor cautioned that appearances could be deceptive.

These cannibals, he explained, were adept at concealing their presence like ghosts, rendering them nearly undetectable to ordinary individuals.

It was a warning that resonated deeply with Aiden’s own experiences. During their previous encounter at a radio tower, he had failed to discern the cannibals’ trap until it was too late. They were a new type of adversary Aiden had only faced after venturing into these western regions.

As such, he was still unfamiliar with the intricate tactics they employed amid these woodlands.

“…”

Complacency was inadvisable.

Aiden maintained a keen state of alertness as they continued their ascent.

“Phew…”

A sigh escaped Taylor’s lips.

The forest they were traversing lacked any semblance of a defined path.

The uneven, rugged terrain occasionally formed steep inclines, while haphazardly grown trees obstructed their route.

A demanding journey, even for two grown men to navigate.

However, they couldn’t risk following the visible mountain roads either.

There was no telling when or where the cannibals might ambush them.

Moreover, the challenges this mountain posed extended beyond its treacherous terrain alone.

“Kieeek!”

From an inexplicable origin…

Zombies were roaming these woodlands, far removed from any urban centers.

“It doesn’t seem to be a substantial cannibalistic presence, at least.”

Aiden remarked upon witnessing that scene.

While human, the cannibals were still susceptible to zombie attacks. Had this been a significant outpost of theirs, the zombies would have undoubtedly been cleared out in advance.

“It appears that way. Perhaps only a few of them, if any. But having zombies around isn’t exactly ideal either.”

Taylor concurred with that assessment.

As he spoke, he exchanged his pistol for the military-grade shovel he was carrying.

Aiden and Taylor proceeded while actively avoiding the zombies whenever possible.

However, the number of undead trapped within this mountain forest proved unexpectedly substantial.

Which meant unavoidable encounters did occur on occasion.

During those instances, Aiden took the lead, stealthily eliminating the zombies through ambushes.

“Keee…!”

A zombie, its jaw impaled from behind by Aiden’s longsword, crumpled lifelessly to the ground.

“…You’re quite skilled, for a junk dealer.”

Observing that display, Taylor let out an amused chuckle.

Even as a former military man, Aiden’s fluid swordsmanship was a technique he likely couldn’t replicate himself.

“Textbook perfect form, I’d say.”

Aiden’s every movement was mechanically precise yet breathtakingly daring. A single misstep could have proven instantly fatal – a razor’s edge between flawless execution and catastrophe.

“More are coming.”

However, Aiden simply acknowledged Taylor’s compliment with a measured tone.

His gaze was fixed upon the open warehouse entrance they had encountered.

From within, the groans of the undead could be heard echoing outwards.

Soon after, the sounds of their relentless footfalls grew increasingly closer.

Based on those audible cues alone, it was evident:

The shadowy interior of that warehouse harbored a number of zombies several times greater than those they had initially encountered outside.

And they were now converging upon this location.

“…”

Despite being a scenario they had anticipated, the tension etched across Taylor’s features intensified noticeably.

Soon after, the first grotesque zombie countenance emerged from the warehouse’s gloomy depths.

Aiden’s hatchet flew straight towards that horrific visage.

* * *

“Huff… huff…!”

Some time later…

Having dispatched all 22 zombies, both inside and outside the warehouse, Aiden and Taylor were taking a momentary respite to catch their breaths.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Huff… haah…”

Taylor responded while gasping heavily for air.

After allowing himself that brief recovery period, he regarded Aiden with a perplexed gaze.

“But junk dealer, aren’t you feeling fatigued at all?”

Taylor was recalling their recent combat encounter.

Throughout that skirmish with the zombies, Aiden had moved far more vigorously and erratically compared to Taylor himself.

Out of those 22 zombies, Taylor had only accounted for 8 kills.

The remaining 14 had been systematically eliminated by Aiden’s efforts alone.

Yet despite that, Aiden hadn’t even broken into labored breathing since the battle’s conclusion.

Even accounting for potential differences in physical conditioning, Taylor found that difficult to comprehend.

He scrutinized Aiden with that skeptical gaze, prompting the following response:

“Of course… it was strenuous.”

Aiden delivered that reply in an utterly nonchalant tone, betraying no visible signs of exertion whatsoever.

“That was strenuous for you?”

“…”

When Taylor let out an incredulous chuckle at that statement, Aiden fell briefly silent.

Then, as if dismissing the matter entirely, he seamlessly changed the subject.

“More importantly, let’s inspect the warehouse’s contents.”

Despite that brazen evasiveness, Taylor could only click his tongue inwardly before rising to his feet without further protest.

There was little point in persistently interrogating Aiden about it.

“Alright, let’s do that.”

The two, who had been resting near the warehouse entrance, proceeded inside.

However, the interior they discovered was largely devoid of any substantial contents.

Whether it had originally been empty, or if someone had thoroughly scavenged the area, was unclear.

What few remaining supplies were present had been concentrated towards the far end of the warehouse. Several olive-green foldable storage crates were stacked in that location.

Yet upon inspecting their contents, Taylor let out a heavy sigh of disappointment.

“Damn it… this isn’t the warehouse containing the supplies we were hoping for. Take a look at this.”

The crate he had opened revealed it was filled with military-grade gas masks.

The other crates seemed to contain similar items as well.

Replacement filters for those masks, along with antidotes and other equipment intended for chemical warfare preparedness.

While these military provisions were present, they were regrettably unrelated to combating the zombie virus.

“Unfortunate luck, it seems.”

Disappointing, but ultimately unavoidable.

With that realization, they exited the warehouse and approached another nearby structure instead.

An outwardly unremarkable two-story building from its exterior appearance.

“…It seems quiet inside, at least.”

Fortunately, there didn’t appear to be any zombie presence within this particular building.

The two cautiously entered through the main entrance.

Inside, they found what seemed to be office spaces filled with scattered documents and disorganized paperwork.

“Hmm…”

To Aiden, it didn’t seem like a promising location for any substantial finds.

Neither food supplies nor weaponry would be stored in such administrative offices.

However, Taylor began sifting through the disarrayed piles of documents in one corner of the room.

“What are you doing?”

“Just wait. There should be some information about this base’s inventory documented somewhere around here.”

Taylor had immediately recognized this as the administrative office that had been utilized by the base’s personnel.

Therefore, he deduced that records detailing the supplies stored within should still be present among these scattered files.

Aiden also assisted in Taylor’s search efforts.

It didn’t take long before…

“Found it…!”

Taylor retrieved a yellowed sheet of A4 paper.

Instead of a map, it contained a simple list of text entries:

Names like “Warehouse #1” and “Warehouse #2”, followed by itemized inventories of their respective contents.

“But how do we know which warehouse is which?”

“Didn’t you notice? The warehouse doors had numbers painted on them.”

At Taylor’s words, Aiden tried recalling that detail.

Now that it was mentioned, he did vaguely remember a black numeric ‘2’ crudely painted onto one of the warehouse entrances they had passed by earlier.

At the time, it had seemed so carelessly scrawled that he hadn’t paid it much heed, dismissing it as mere graffiti.

“This was a hastily established base, after all. In those circumstances, they wouldn’t have had time to meticulously label everything.”

Taylor spoke with a tone of familiarity regarding such expedient military practices.

His rationale rang true, so Aiden accepted it without further doubt.

“Then which locations should we prioritize?”

“These two: Warehouses #4 and #7.”

Those were listed as containing fuel, food, water rations, and other essential provisions they required.

Aiden nodded his head.