Apocalypse Ground Ze Chapter 82: Mistakes Require Correction

Chapter 82: Mistakes Require Correction

The house stayed quiet after my little speech.

It was almost rewarding to see the survivors adjusting so quickly once the rules were made clear.

Instead of thinking that they owned the place because of sheer numbers, they moved through the rooms with care, placing each step with intention and keeping their voices low when they spoke at all.

Doors stayed partially open so they could watch the hallway without being seen too easily, and no one stayed in one place long enough to draw attention.

Well... my attention.

Baby had been moved into a side room and left there with his wounds wrapped. Someone had taken the time to bandage him properly, but no one stayed to help him further. It was almost as if they couldn’t decide if they wanted to keep him alive or not.

The blood in the living room had dried into a dark stain on a light grey carpet that no one touched. It marked the floor underneath it and stayed there as a reminder, something no one wanted to get too close to but no one dared to clean.

I, on the other hand, stayed on the couch.

I had found a new short drama series that I was absolutely loving. The fmc had been reborn and decided to set up a bunker to survive in the apocalypse. She didn’t have a space, but I really admired her commitment to survival.

She knew what it would take. And, by the way she was killing people who tired to get into her bunker, she also understood that survival meant not allowing others to walk all over them.

I gave Scar Face the side eye as I thought about just how much I had let him and the others walk over me. But they were a lesson for the men... and for me.

What I learned?

I wasn’t meant for company.

It appeared that today was a learning day for everyone.

Too bad the moment it turned dark, the lessons were forgotten.

I noticed it the moment one of the survivors decided his fate. His breathing stayed too steady at first, then too controlled, even as his eyes darted all over the place. His hands stayed loose at his sides, but his fingers flexed when he thought no one was watching.

He was thinking instead of reacting.

And that made him dangerous.

Or stupid, depending on how you looked at things.

I might have even let him off if it hadn’t turned dark...

If he hadn’t left the door open.

Everyone had already made their way up to their rooms, quiet as little mice. But not him. He looked at me ’watching’ TV and scoffed. Then he moved toward the front door without hesitation.

His hand settled on the knob as if he had already made the decision, and he turned it slowly to test the latch. The door opened with very little resistance, just enough to let cold air slip inside.

He looked back once more at me and then made his move.

The second I felt the cool night air... I had a flashback.

Not to the moment it happened, since I technically wasn’t there. But to everything that happened after.

Zombies, faster than ever before, entering the compound. The sound of screams and the smell of blood as they tore through the slums before venturing up into the inner rings.

My mouth went try and then watered as bile threatened to come up.

Me, finally killing the last zombie.

Meilan telling everyone I had let them in.

Me... dying... painfully.

Before my brain registered what my body was doing, I was off the couch and by the front door. I couldn’t remember the last time I had moved that fast.

But apparently, I wasn’t fast enough.

He had made it onto the wraparound porch. His foot was hovering over the first step.

And he never closed the door.

"I think I need to add more rules," I murmured, my voice sounding nothing like me. It was like I was hearing things down a deep tunnel.

I was breaking one of my own rules... reacting before deciding... but it was too late.

He froze when he heard my voice, his foot going back onto the porch as he slowly turned to look at me like I was a monster from his nightmares.

I wasn’t.

But I was going to be.

"Let’s make this rule number one, shall we?" I continued, stepping out onto the porch with my bare feet. "Never, ever, leave the door open. Especially at night."

The man was frozen, his eyes going wide with terror as a long hunting knife appeared in my hand as if by magic.

"Do you know why we don’t go out at night?" I purred.

"Because we die?" asked the same boy who had answered my questions earlier today.

I hummed and nodded my head. "Because not just YOU die... we all die. That was your mistake."

The man let out a low whimper as he looked over my shoulder. There had to be survivors behind me, in the doorframe, but my attention wasn’t on them.

It was on him.

"Mistakes require correction," I sighed, digging the tip of the knife into my finger. I watched as the blood welled... I listened as I heard the rustling of zombies still in the darkness.

The darkness was always more dangerous than the daylight. It was just... known.

Letting out another breath to steady me, I called out to Scar Face. "Rope. Please and thank you." See? I could remember my manners.

Before I could count to ten, there was a coil of harsh rope in my hand. I placed the blade of my knife between my lips as I walked forward and securely tied the rope around the man’s wrists.

The people behind me were getting restless, waiting to see what I was about to do. The zombies behind the man were getting restless, waiting to see what meals they were going to get.

"Please," the man begged, and his breath broke when he finally understood what was going to happen.

Silently, I threw the rope over one of the beams in the roof of the porch and handed the other end to Scar Face.

Scar Face gripped the rope in his hands, his face white in the moonlight as he looked at me. Waiting for my next command.

"Up," I purred after taking the knife out of my mouth. I watched the man’s hands get jerked over his head. But it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. "More," I continued, and Scar Face pulled back even more, his entire body weight pulling the man up.

When his toes could no longer touch the wooden boards and all his weight was on his shoulders and arms, I held my hand up for Scar Face to stop.

"Good job," I praised him.

Everyone was staring at me, but my eyes never left the man in front of me. He returned my look and I could see the emotions dancing behind his eyes. Fear, confusion, rage...

But it didn’t matter. I just held his gaze.

"You opened a door at night," I said, repeating the one thing that I truly didn’t understand. "In that moment, when you were only thinking of yourself, you decided everyone’s fate."

His mouth moved, but nothing came out. I saw his eyes going white before they started to roll back into his head. "Now, I need you to stay awake for this next part," I said, tapping his cheek with my knife. "You really don’t want to sleep for this next part."

Scar Face held the rope with steady hands, even as his face turned pale.

The rest of the survivors watched from inside the house, their eyes darting between us and the zombies they could see waiting in the darkness.

The door stayed open.

That was fine.

Let them keep watching and learn just what the cost of betrayal actually was.