Schmidt ran back across the beach toward the research center, panicking and dodging lunging zombies, scrambling with wide, fearful eyes.
Zeb and Marija ran across the sand in the opposite direction, the lightly lapping waves splashing their boots as they sprinted toward the helicopter.
Schmidt stumbled and dodged his way over to Jeremy, huffing and puffing from the exertion. Jeremy just stared at him.
“H-Hugo and…Dr. Romero are missing…somewhere. T-the rest…are waiting at the …h-helicopter,” Schmidt managed.
Jeremy had loaded more shells in his flare gun while Schmidt had been explaining just in time to listen to the doctor before raising his gun and firing, obliterating a zombie that had snuck up on the winded man.
Jeremy gave Schmidt a very cold, serious look.
“Let’s go get them then.”
Jeremy immediately blasted the top of a zombie’s head off that had stepped forward to bar his path to the research facility. Behind him, almost back to back, Dr. Schmidt dug an entrenching tool out of his survival pack. Schmidt stabbed a zombie that was lunging at him straight through the chest. The shovel sank into the rotting flesh with a wet splutch!
Jeremy and the good doctor worked their way down the dusty dirt road, deeper into the dense tropical forest as zombies swarmed in from all directions. On the well-worn path, Jeremy and Dr. Schmidt continued to fight off the zombies around them. Jeremy shot the flare gun and kicked at a zombie, knocking it backward. Schmidt lopped the head off another zombie with surprising ease.
A human hand reached out of a nearby bush and grabbed Jeremy’s wrist firmly.
Jeremy turned his eyes, squinting coldly and pointing the flare gun directly at the head of the grabber.
Dr. Romero panicked when the flare gun pressed against his face.
“Don’t shoot,” Romero begged.
Jeremy looked at him, cold and annoyed.
“Why didn’t you run to the beach?” Jeremy asked.
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