While Ira endured a virtual beatdown in the simulation—to Theo's gleeful amusement—a storm brewed on the horizon, its dark tendrils creeping closer to the city's crumbling wall.
It was the crack of dawn when a secret convoy slipped out of the city, carrying one of its most pivotal figures.
Military trucks rumbled alongside a lone civilian car, all barreling toward the pier.
Inside the most fortified vehicle, Kali lounged, peering out the window. Last night, he'd ordered his crew to carve a path to the shore, and they'd delivered—zombie corpses littered the route like grotesque confetti.
The early hour, paired with a biting wind that kept the slum-dwellers huddled indoors, gave him the perfect cover to sneak away unnoticed.
He glanced at his assistant, a hunched figure in the corner, head bowed. "Still think I'm screwing up?"
