Weapon System in Zombie Apocalypse

Dawn broke through the cracks in the office windows, casting an eerie glow over the ruined city.

Thomas's eyes snapped open instantly. He wasn't used to waking up slowly anymore. His body had trained itself to always be alert.

He sat up, stretching his arms slightly. Erica was by the window, peering out at the streets below.

"You're up," she said without looking at him.

Thomas stood. "Anything happen?"

She shook her head. "Nothing major. But I don't like the look of the streets."

Thomas walked over, standing beside her.

Zombies still moved through the streets, but the ones heading toward MOA had thinned out. The battle must've still been going.

"We should get moving," Thomas said.

Erica nodded. "Yeah. The rooftop is our best bet."

She turned away from the window, grabbing her bat. "But first, we need to make sure we don't get torn apart before we get there."

Thomas smirked. "Agreed."

They began preparing, gathering what little supplies they had. They put the water bottle, some canned foods in her bag, and since Thomas doesn't have a weapon aside from the tactical knife, she handed him the extra baseball bat.

It seemed that Erica loves bringing her bat in her office.

Thomas gripped the baseball bat she had given him, testing its weight. It was solid—good balance, strong enough to cave in a skull if used properly.

"You ready?" he asked, glancing at Erica.

She tightened the straps on her backpack and gripped her own bat. "As ready as I'll ever be."

Thomas nodded, then slowly unlocked the door. He eased it open, scanning the dimly lit hallway. The eerie red emergency lights still cast long, distorted shadows along the walls.

The horde from last night had thinned. Many of the zombies had wandered off to other parts of the building, leaving only a handful scattered across the hallway.

"Less of them now," Erica murmured.

"Yeah. But we still have to be careful."

They stepped out, moving quietly. Thomas took the lead, his stance low, his movements calculated. He had done this before—moved through hostile territory, neutralized threats, survived against impossible odds.

The first zombie turned toward them—a former office worker, its sunken eyes locking onto Thomas as it let out a low, guttural groan.

Thomas didn't hesitate.

He surged forward, closing the distance in a blink. The zombie swiped at him with slow, clumsy movements, but Thomas weaved around it, sidestepping with the grace of a trained fighter.

With a single, controlled motion, he gripped the bat with both hands and swung.

CRACK!

The zombie's skull caved in instantly. The force of the impact twisted its head at an unnatural angle before it collapsed onto the floor, motionless.

Erica blinked, stunned. "Holy shit."

Thomas ignored her and kept moving.

Two more zombies lurched from a side office, drawn by the noise. Thomas exhaled and adjusted his grip on the bat, waiting for them to make the first move.

The first zombie lunged, reaching out—

Thomas sidestepped again, lightning-fast. He twisted his body, delivering a spinning back kick straight into its chest. The impact sent the undead crashing into the second zombie, knocking them both to the ground.

Before they could recover, Thomas lifted the bat and swung downward in a brutal arc.

CRUNCH!

The bat caved in the first zombie's skull. Without missing a beat, he spun on his heel, driving the end of the bat into the second zombie's jaw, snapping its neck on impact.

Erica let out a slow breath, her eyes glued to him. She had seen people fight before—seen security officers shoot zombies, seen survivors swing bats and knives in blind desperation.

But this?

This was something else entirely.

Thomas moved like a soldier—like a predator. Every motion was fluid, controlled, efficient. No wasted energy. No hesitation.

And fuck—it was kind of turning her on.

She had no idea why. Maybe it was the way his muscles flexed when he swung the bat. Maybe it was how composed he remained, even when surrounded by death.

Or maybe it was the simple fact that, for the first time in forever, she wasn't the only one fighting to stay alive.

She realized she had been staring.

Shaking her head, she gripped her bat tighter and turned toward the stairwell.

"Come on," she muttered, trying to focus. "We're almost there."

Thomas didn't notice her flustered expression as they pushed forward.

The stairwell door was slightly ajar. Thomas pressed a hand against it, listening carefully. No movement. No sounds.

He motioned for Erica to stay behind as he slipped inside first.

The stairs stretched upward, dimly illuminated by flickering lights. A few zombies remained, some slumped against the walls, others dragging themselves toward the faint sounds of the outside world.

Thomas moved first.

He darted forward and grabbed the nearest zombie by the collar, using its own momentum to slam it against the stair railing. Before it could react, he delivered a rapid series of knee strikes to its ribcage, shattering bones with each impact.

A final elbow strike to the skull sent it tumbling backward, its limp body crashing down the stairs.

Another zombie lunged.

Thomas ducked, pivoted, and swung his bat in an upward arc—

CRACK!

The impact lifted the zombie off its feet before it collapsed in a heap.

Erica's grip on her bat tightened. "Okay, now you're just showing off."

Thomas smirked, wiping sweat from his brow. "You still standing there, or are you gonna help?"

She scoffed, stepping forward. "Fine."

She lifted her bat and swung wildly, smashing a zombie's head with sheer brute force. It wasn't graceful. It wasn't controlled. But it got the job done.

Another zombie stumbled toward her. She raised her bat again, ready to swing—

But she hesitated.

For just a moment, she watched Thomas again—watched how effortlessly he fought, how every move seemed calculated.

She didn't see the third zombie creeping up behind her.

Thomas did.

He moved before she could even react.

In one swift motion, he dropped his bat, grabbed the zombie by the back of its head, and slammed it against the stair railing. The force shattered its jaw instantly.

Not letting go, he spun the creature around and snapped its neck with one brutal twist.

The body crumpled to the floor.

Erica's heart was pounding.

She looked at Thomas—his calm expression, his controlled breathing—and for the first time in a long time, she felt something she hadn't felt since this apocalypse began.

Safe.

She quickly shook off the thought.

"I had that," she muttered, trying to hide the heat rising to her face.

Thomas smirked. "Sure you did."

She glared at him but said nothing.

The rooftop door was just ahead.

Thomas walked up to it, testing the handle. It was unlocked.

They exchanged a glance.

"This is it," he said.

Erica nodded. "Let's hope we didn't fight all the way up here just to get stuck."

Thomas took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

The rooftop was empty.

For now.

The cold morning air hit them instantly as they stepped outside. The city stretched before them, a ruined wasteland of collapsed buildings and smoke-filled skies.

The wind howled against the metal structures, sending shivers down Erica's spine.

Thomas scanned the horizon.

No helicopters. No signs of rescue.

But that didn't mean they weren't coming.

"We made it," Erica said, exhaling.

"Yeah," Thomas replied, gripping his bat. "Now we just have to survive long enough to get out of here."