Zombie Surge: My Ascendancy In Wasteland

Chapter 8

On the other end of the phone, John was momentarily stunned. Eric wasn't scared—at all. In fact, he had just volunteered to move up his own "death date."

"What?" John hesitated, uncertainty creeping into his thoughts. He was wondering what was giving this irritating screenwriter such confidence.

He considered dragging Sofia back in for another round of questioning but then dismissed the idea. 'What could Eric do? A man who has lived quietly for decades without stepping out of line isn't suddenly going to become a major threat.'

At most, Eric might stir up a little trouble. All this talk about settling scores, paired with his recent erratic behavior, was probably just the delusions of a desperate man losing his grip.

John chuckled, his confidence returning. "No problem. You're a real man, Eric. Just make sure you show up when the time comes."

From the other end of the line, Eric's voice came back, steady and firm. "I absolutely will."

After hanging up, still grinning, Eric wasted no time. He immediately went to find Cormac.

"Someone's coming after me," Eric said. "There's going to be quite a show here tomorrow."

Cormac, sensing the weight of the moment, nodded gravely. "Whatever you need me to do, just say it."

Eric paced for a moment, his mind working through the details. Slowly, a plan began to take shape.

"We'll set up a deception. I'll tell them that tomorrow, at exactly 5:25 PM, I'll be driving my Porsche back to the complex from outside. But in reality, we'll both stay here the entire time, ready to take sniper shots."

He gestured toward the balcony. "This is an open strategy. Whether they believe me or not, their attention will be on the car. They'll have to check who's inside. My balcony overlooks the entrance perfectly. When the car stops at the gate, that'll be our best chance to take out John and his men."

Cormac nodded in approval.

Eric continued, "But first, we need someone to drive my car to the entrance at exactly the right time. Someone you wouldn't feel guilty about losing. And someone who'll follow instructions without a second thought."

Cormac thought for a moment before replying. "Let's use Cecilia's friend, Lillian. She's just like Cecilia—greedy, manipulative, and completely selfish. She's played with countless people's feelings and even lured some into drug use. Someone like her will do anything for the right amount of money."

Eric nodded, satisfied. "Perfect. Give me her contact information."

As Cormac pulled out his phone, he suddenly paused and looked at Eric. "By the way, why 5:25? Does it mean something?"

Eric smiled faintly, his expression unreadable. "Because five minutes later, at 5:30, is when I said the major change would happen."

'The moment when the zombie apocalypse begins,' he silently murmured.

***

Early the next morning, Eric sat in front of his monitor, his eyes glued to the surveillance footage streaming from the hidden micro-cameras he had installed.

As he had anticipated, unfamiliar men began trickling into the neighborhood starting at 10 AM. They came in casually, strolling in pairs or small groups, trying to blend in.

At first glance, they seemed inconspicuous, but as the hours passed, their numbers steadily grew. Gradually, the total count was unsettling.

Eric recognized several faces from his past life. And among them were the loan sharks he had recently tangled with.

He shook his head, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. 'How could someone as kind and harmless as me manage to accumulate so many enemies?'

Just then, one of the cameras caught his attention. Two men appeared on the screen, walking one behind the other. Eric's focus sharpened, his eyes narrowing as he leaned closer to the monitor.

The moment he saw the face of the taller man in the back, his breath hitched. His chest tightened, and a wave of anger surged through him, his eyes turning bloodshot. Memories he had buried deep came rushing back, clawing their way to the surface.

It was Benedict Hall, the man who had destroyed his life. The man who had left him with nothing and nearly sent him to prison.

***

In his memory, life had been better than good before Benedict framed him.

Growing up, the Federation had been far more stable than it was now. Public safety wasn't the mess it had become, and divisions between people weren't as stark. Eric's childhood had been smooth, almost idyllic. He had gone to school, pursued his dream career, and eventually achieved his lifelong goal—writing hit screenplays. He had signed with a major film company, and his work had climbed to the top of the charts. For a time, there were people wanting to collaborate with him.

But that partnership had been the beginning of his downfall.

Eric would never forget how Benedict, his seemingly upright and trustworthy business partner, had approached him back then. Benedict had been so humble, so sincere when inviting Eric to invest. He had radiated excitement when Eric agreed, showering him with gratitude and enthusiasm. During the company's operations, Benedict had been the perfect partner. He had selflessly shared business knowledge, taught Eric management skills, and constantly sought him out for trips, dinners, and heart-to-heart conversations.

Eric had thought he'd found not just an excellent partner, but a close friend until the day Benedict betrayed him.

Eric could still remember the moment Benedict asked him to upload a half-finished, contracted screenplay to what he had called an "internal file-sharing system." That night, while Eric was sleeping soundly, the police had broken down his door and arrested him.

Sitting in the cold, sterile police station, Eric had started to piece it together. He realized, too late, that he had been set up.

The local film company he had joined had always been rumored to have serious nepotism issues. Eric, with his two hit screenplays and undeniable talent, had been given considerable resources when he joined.

He had risen quickly, his career soaring. At the time, he had thought nothing of it. He hadn't realized how many people were quietly harboring hatred toward him.

In his previous life, Eric never had the ability or the opportunity to uncover who was truly behind his downfall. Everything had happened so quickly—Sofia's betrayal, the chaos that followed, and then the zombie apocalypse. He had been too overwhelmed to spare even a moment to dig deeper.

But now, in this life, he saw it clearly. Benedict wasn't acting alone. The man he nervously followed was someone Eric had never suspected before—Eamon Ward.

Eamon, the operations director of that film and television company. A prominent local businessman.

Back when Eric was at the company, Eamon had treated him better than anyone else, even his own subordinates or family members. Eric had never doubted him. He thought Eamon genuinely appreciated his talent.

But now, the truth was glaringly obvious. Eamon must have been the mastermind behind Benedict.

Eric's expression hardened, his eyes growing cold.

'Well, since they're both here, they might as well die together.'

***

Meanwhile, Benedict, dressed sharply in a suit, bent down to open the car door. He then followed Eamon respectfully. Together, they strolled toward a secluded corridor that offered a clear view of the community entrance.

"I really didn't want to waste my time on this matter," Eamon said, taking a sip from the steaming cup of coffee handed to him by a subordinate. "But Eric has once again exceeded my expectations."

"You know, at my age, I've seen so much. There's very little left that surprises me or piques my interest anymore."

Benedict chuckled nervously. "Yes, Eric is... acting crazy like this has caused you quite a bit of trouble."

"No, no, you don't understand," Eamon said, waving a hand dismissively. His sigh was heavy, almost regretful. "I actually admired him back then. He had real talent. But after all these years of building my business, I've accumulated too many people under me who despised him. I couldn't protect him."

"And since I couldn't protect him, I had no choice but to destroy him. I couldn't let him become a threat to me. Is everything ready?"

Benedict nodded quickly. "Everything's in place. We confirmed Eric hasn't left the community since he came back last night. All we need to do now is wait and see what he tries to pull at 5:25."

Eamon leaned back against the wall. "No matter what happens—whether there's a car or not, no matter who's inside it—after Eric's little show is over, we'll have our men secure the community entrance. Then, we'll go straight to his apartment. He won't escape."

***

At 5:20 PM, the daylight was already fading. Winter days were short, and the sun, weak and pale, barely broke through the sharp mountain peaks. The sky was streaked with fiery red, the sunset glow spreading like blood spilling across the horizon.

It was New Year's Day, a public holiday. Residents from both inside and outside the complex had gathered out of curiosity, drawn by the spectacle of dozens of expensive cars parked at the entrance and the crowd of people milling around the gate.

In the middle of the commotion stood Sofia and John.

John had eagerly volunteered to take the lead, driven not only by the grudge he held against Eric for "stealing" the woman he fancied but also by his desire to prove himself. The last time, he had pretended to be someone from a film company, scammed Eric out of a large sum of money and gained tacit permission to claim one of Eric's assets—Sofia. She had proven quite satisfying in bed, but this time, he wanted more.

Though the risk was higher, the reward promised to be even greater.

Men like John thrived on risk. It was in his nature to take chances.

He pulled out his phone, his voice brimming with barely concealed excitement as he made the call. "Eric, you'd better be on your way."

On the other end, Eric's voice came through, calm and lazy. "Don't rush. I'm almost there."

Before Eric had even finished speaking, John spotted the rented Porsche driving straight toward the crowd.

Grinning, John slapped Sofia on the back as she cowered, trying to hide behind him. "Get up there," he barked, half-shoving her forward.

***

Meanwhile, Eric and Cormac were ready. On the balcony of Eric's apartment, they had sealed the one-way transparent blast-proof window installed by Eternity Security Company. Behind it, they had set up a DVL-10 sniper rifle at the shooting port.

Eric's voice was steady. "Cormac, they're all here. You take out Benedict and Eamon. As for Sofia and John, I'll handle them myself. As for the others, with so many people gathered like this, once chaos breaks out, they won't get away unscathed."

Cormac nodded firmly. "Understood."

Through the scope, Eric watched as the Porsche rolled to a stop directly in front of John. Without waiting for the driver to step out, John strode forward, gripping a crowbar in his hand. With one swift motion, he smashed the passenger-side window.

The sharp sound of shattering glass was followed by a woman's terrified scream from inside the car. Both John and Sofia stiffened.

From the balcony, Eric's voice cut through the tension. "Now!"

His body trembled with anticipation. He had waited more than ten days for this moment. Finally, he could have his revenge.

The memories surged through him like a tidal wave—the agony of falling from the pinnacle of success to the depths of despair, the betrayal of those he had trusted most, and the anger and bitterness that had consumed him in his final moments. All of it would end here, with the gun in his hands.

Bang! Cormac's shot rang out first.

The sound jolted Eric into action. Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger.