Back at the dorm, Ethan and the others dug into a few packs of bread and bottled water they'd pulled from their backpacks.

They hadn't brought their bags when they went out at noon, so by now, hunger was gnawing at them.

"Ethan," Chris said between bites, "we're running low on food. We've got enough to last, what, maybe until tomorrow? We'll need to go out and scavenge soon."

"Yeah," Ethan nodded. "Time to figure out where we can get more."

"Judging by what happened with Sean's group, the main dining hall's probably a no-go."

"Don't need a genius to guess that," Chris said. "That many people heading there? Guaranteed to draw a horde. I'd bet the place is swarming with zombies by now—getting in or out would be suicide."

"Guess it's a blessing we didn't go there after all."

"No kidding. Even if you made it in, getting stuck inside's one thing—but with that many mouths to feed? How long could their supplies even last?" Ethan shook his head.

"Yeah. If rescue doesn't come soon, the people holed up in there are screwed."

"That's the admin's problem," Ethan said flatly. "We should focus on finding food."

"I might have an idea," Chris offered.

"Let's hear it."

"Supermarkets. Convenience stores. There are a few on campus, and tons more outside. If we can take over even one, we'd have enough to last a couple weeks easy."

"Right—supermarkets. Good call." Ethan clapped his hands once, decision made. "Alright, tomorrow we hit one."

"Sounds good."

"Oh, and Chris—check online. See if anyone's talking about the crystal."

"On it." Chris pulled out his phone and started scrolling. It took a while before he spoke again. "Nothing. Just people screaming for help, groups posting zombie kill videos, and a bunch of DIY zombie survival tips."

"Then either no one's figured it out yet," Ethan said, "or someone has—and they're smart enough to keep their mouth shut."

"Just like us," Chris said with a grin.

"…"

"Alright, get some rest. We've got another fight tomorrow."

"Yeah."

...

Late that night, the Nine-Star Dipper constellation reappeared in the sky. The zombies fell eerily silent, as if lulled by some unseen force. At the city zoo, caged beasts stirred. One by one, they snapped through iron bars like they were twigs, as if something ancient in their blood had awakened. They were free again.

...

Day Three of the Apocalypse.

Morning.

Ethan and the others changed into fresh clothes, grabbed a quick bite, and stepped out of the dorm.

But as soon as they reached the bottom of the stairs, they stopped short.

A crowd was waiting for them.

Ethan's brow furrowed. He turned to Sean. "What's this about?"

Sean gave a sheepish smile. "They're starving. Tried to head out early to find food, but the zombies pushed them back. Now they're hoping you'll lead them."

"I'm not dragging a bunch of dead weight around," Ethan said bluntly.

"We're not dead weight!" someone protested. "We can fight zombies too!"

"Yeah! We're not scared of them anymore!"

Chris snorted. "Then why'd you come running back with your tails between your legs?"

"That… that was different! The zombies got stronger—we couldn't handle them!"

"Oh sure," Chris said, smirking. "And I'm supposed to believe that?"

"It's true! We're not lying!" a few of them blurted out, voices rising in panic.

Ethan's eyes narrowed. "Fine. Let's go take a look."

"What about them?" Chris asked, jerking his chin toward the crowd.

"If they can keep up, let them. But I'll say this now—sticking with us is dangerous. Don't expect me to save you."

That gave them pause. The crowd hesitated, glancing at one another.

But Sean and his two friends didn't miss a beat—they stepped forward immediately.

Seeing that, the others gritted their teeth and followed.

Since last night, the campus emergency alert system had gone silent. Maybe the administrators had finally decided it was pointless—most of the loudspeakers were busted anyway, and the few that still worked couldn't broadcast more than a couple hundred feet.

Ethan and the others had barely stepped out of the dorm when they spotted two zombies hunched over a corpse, gnawing away.

The moment the undead caught sight of living flesh, they perked up like bloodhounds and charged.

Ethan moved first.

He swung his steel pipe in a clean arc, smashing one zombie's skull like a melon. Without missing a beat, he pivoted and drove the pipe straight through the second one's head. One hit, one kill—twice in a row. Smooth as silk.

Everyone froze.

Wait—killing zombies was that easy?

Even Chris and Henry blinked in surprise. They'd always gone for the stab, never the smash. Watching Ethan crush a skull like it was nothing made it clear—he'd leveled up again.

Sean and his two buddies stood there, stunned. They could feel it too—Ethan had gotten stronger. Way stronger.

The three of them exchanged a bitter smile. The gap between them and him was only getting wider.

Ethan glanced at the group, puzzled by their slack-jawed expressions. "What? I don't feel that different."

"…"

The crowd stared at him like he'd just said gravity was optional.

Now they understood why Ethan was the one leading this group. Any resentment or jealousy they'd been harboring vanished on the spot. No one wanted to be on the receiving end of that steel pipe.

"Mind if we take the next one?" Sean asked suddenly.

They'd fought plenty of zombies themselves. If the undead really had gotten stronger, they'd know the moment they engaged.

"Sure," Ethan said with a nod.

They hadn't gone far before five more zombies stumbled into view.

The moment the creatures spotted them, they let out guttural snarls and charged like rabid dogs.

Ethan held back. Chris, Henry, Sean, Skinny Pete, and Big Mike stepped forward.

Chris and Henry struck first, jabbing their steel pipes into the zombies' skulls—but the blows didn't finish the job. The undead kept coming, jaws snapping.

Frowning, they shoved harder, finally punching through the bone and dropping the creatures.

Sean's trio didn't fare as well.

Their pipes hit the zombies in the neck, but the blows lacked the force to sever anything. The zombies barreled into them, sending all three stumbling backward.

Still, they weren't rookies. Regaining their footing, they struck again.

And again.

And again.

The crowd watched, wide-eyed, as Sean and the others were repeatedly shoved back, only to lunge forward and stab again. It took five, maybe six tries before they finally managed to break the zombies' necks and put them down.

Breathing hard, they rejoined the group. Sean's face was pale. "They're definitely stronger. I'd say fifty percent tougher than when this started."

Ethan nodded. That confirmed it—his hunch had been right. The zombies were evolving. And fast. Every day, they got a little stronger.

Which meant hiding and waiting for rescue wasn't going to cut it. Even if people had food, if they just holed up and hoped for the best, they'd be wiped out sooner or later.

If humanity wanted to survive, it had to fight.

The mood turned grim. Zombies were already a nightmare—and now they were leveling up?

How the hell were they supposed to make it?

"Let's move," Ethan said, shaking off the thought. No point worrying about tomorrow when today still needed surviving.

...

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