Zombie Surge: My Ascendancy In Wasteland

"Sorry, Eric. You didn't do anything wrong, and I don't want you dead either. It's just... my man doesn't like you being alive." Bang! Eric Whitman was slammed into the wall again, the force of the kick rattling the knife lodged in his chest. Blood seeped slowly from the wound, dark and thick. His breaths came shallow, indicating he was on the verge of death. A month had passed since the zombie apocalypse began. The so-called rescuers Sofia Sanders, his ex-wife, had spoken of finally showed up. But instead of saving him, they stormed into his home with a gang of thugs, looted his supplies, and subjected him to endless humiliation and torment. As his life slipped away, the last thing he saw was a voluptuous woman leaning against a broad-shouldered man in the crowd. Her lips curled into a cruel smirk as she watched him die. "Oh, by the way," Sofia said, "you still don't know why I insisted on divorcing you, do you? It's because I met John." She gestured at the man beside her. "John is tall, strong, and rich. He makes me feel alive in ways you never could. Compared to him, you're just a pathetic loser." She sneered, "For the last few days of being stuck with you—God, you have no idea how disgusted I've been. But now that John's here, I don't have to pretend anymore. Since all your supplies are ours now, and he doesn't like you, it's time for you to go to hell." As she finished, John c****d his gun and began walking toward him. Eric glared at the pair, his eyes blazing with hatred and regret. When the apocalypse started, he took Sofia in, offering her shelter and safety. And this was how she repaid him—with betrayal and cruelty. If anyone was to blame, it was himself. He had been too trusting, and now he was paying the ultimate price. If only he could go back. If he had the chance, he'd make sure to kill this treacherous b*tch and b*stard with his own hands. Bang! The gunshot echoed in the room, and a sharp, searing pain tore through his head. His vision went dark, and everything around him vanished. But then, at the very next moment, his eyes flew open. Eric bolted upright from the couch, his chest rising and falling as he gasped for air. His body was drenched in sweat, his hands trembling like someone who had just escaped drowning. "What the hell... Wasn't I just killed by those b*stards? Did I... come back to life?" Eric looked around, his confusion growing. The room around him was familiar. It was his apartment, the one he had lived in back in Baroville. The air was fresh, and the room was tidy, which left him stunned. The memories came rushing back. On January 1, 2050, a mysterious force swept across the globe. Everyone had experienced excruciating pain at the same time, and then chaos erupted. About sixty percent of the population had turned into zombies—mindless, bloodthirsty creatures that attacked anything in sight. The remaining survivors were caught off guard, and most of them were slaughtered in the chaos. Only a small fraction of humanity—less than ten percent—managed to survive, clinging to life in isolated strongholds. From that day on, the world changed completely. The once-bustling steel cities fell silent. Markets that had been filled with life and noise disappeared. The dazzling lights of civilization dimmed, fading into the darkness at an astonishing speed. All that remained was the choking stench of decay in the air and the haunting, guttural roars of the undead. Eric grabbed a can of Coca-Cola from the fridge, heated a frozen hamburger, and devoured it in a few bites. The flavor was bland, but right now, it felt like a feast to him. During the first month after the apocalypse began in his past life, he and Sofia barricaded themselves in his apartment, barely scraping by on the supplies he had stockpiled. The food had been scarce, but he always gave Sofia the best. And yet, that heartless b*tch betrayed him—scheming with her lover to murder him. When the hamburger was gone, Eric turned on his phone. The screen lit up, showing the date: December 16, 2049. There were still two weeks left before the apocalypse. "So, I really was reborn." He took a deep breath, his eyes narrowing with resolve. The horrors of the apocalypse and the searing pain of Sofia's betrayal were still fresh in his mind. Eric didn't understand why he had been given a second chance, but he knew one thing for sure: he wasn't going to repeat the same mistakes. This time, he would make them pay. Just then, his phone vibrated. A message from Sofia popped up. [Meet me at Starbucks downstairs at 5:30 p.m. This is the last time. Don't contact me again after this.] Eric stared at the message for a moment, memories flooding back. In his previous life, today was the day Sofia asked him for a divorce. Eric was a screenwriter. A few years ago, two hit TV scripts had catapulted him to fame, earning him millions and a lucrative contract with a major production company. With his newfound success, he started a company, bought a house, and paid cash for a car. It was around that time, during a trip, that he met Sofia, a social media influencer. She had a gorgeous face, an enviable figure, an impeccable style, and a knack for charming everyone she met. She seemed like the perfect woman. They hit it off right away, fell in love, and got married in no time. Eric used to be head over heels for Sofia. He paid off her debts, which amounted to hundreds of thousands of dollars, and showered her with gifts—rings, necklaces, perfume, even a car. He spent a fortune promoting her online, helping her career take off. He had thought that by giving her everything, their love would last forever. But reality had hit him like a slap in the face. When he was framed for leaking trade secrets, his company went bankrupt. He lost his job, had to pay a massive settlement to avoid prison, and was left with nothing. That was when Sofia's true colors emerged. She started calling him useless, blaming him for ruining her life. She compared him to her new circle of friends, belittling him at every turn, and finally demanded a divorce. At the time, Eric believed her. He thought it was all his fault. He didn't realize that Sofia was nothing more than a shallow, materialistic woman who had been cheating on him all along. His phone buzzed again with another message: [Stop ignoring me. Answer me.] The arrogance in her tone made Eric's jaw tighten, but he forced himself to stay calm. A cold, mocking smile tugged at his lips. 'In my last life, I let you trample all over me. This time, do you think I'll let that happen again?' he thought. Eric walked into the bedroom, opened the drawer by the bed, and took out the property deed. It was still there. He glanced at the clock. It was 11:30 a.m., six hours until their meeting. 'Six hours...' He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror—hollow eyes, a scruffy beard, unkempt hair. He looked like a filthy hobo. After a moment of thought, he nodded to himself. 'There's enough time.' Lowering his head, Eric typed a reply to Sofia: [Alright. Just don't regret it.] Ignoring the phone's continued buzzing, he headed to the bathroom and took a long, hot shower. He changed into a clean shirt, grabbed the property deed, and left for the bank.