Chapter 9: Bank Heist (1)
The city of Velham stretched before us like a corpse that refused to decompose gracefully.
Zero had filled
in on the basics during our walk. Velham used to be a major tropolitan hub, population of around three million before the outbreak turned it into one of the world’s largest graveyard.
Now it was divided into rough districts, remnants of the old municipal system that survivors repurposed for navigation.
We’d been living in District 3, the outskirts, where radiation was low and zombies were sparse. Most settlents followed this idea.
The bank was in District 11, deeper in the city, where buildings grew taller and the streets grew darker and everything slled like wet rot and regret.
"One kiloter doesn’t sound like much," I said as we walked through the cracked streets. "But I have a feeling you’re about to tell
why it is."
"Radiation density increases the further you go in. More zombies ans more mutagen in the air, which ans more radiation. It’s a cycle." She glanced at . "Your bracelet will handle most of it, but you’ll feel the pressure. Think of it like walking into deeper water. It won’t kill you, but it’s going to push against you."
"Lovely taphor. Really very comforting." I really tried to smile.
She stopped walking and pulled sothing from her harness. My heart did a little jump when I saw it.
A gun. It was compact, matte black, with faint blue lines running along the barrel like veins. It looked like sothing out of a sci-fi movie, which I suppose made sense given the world I was in.
"Here," she handed it to . "Before you get excited, it’s not a toy. These rounds are powered by Core Stones."
"Core Stones?" First ti hearing it, though I could roughly guess it.
"Crystallized energy found inside zombies. The higher the rank, the bigger and denser the stone." She tapped the magazine. "These bullets are expensive. Like, genuinely really expensive. You get twelve rounds and I swear on my life, Lukas, if you waste them on F-ranks I will be the one to kill you."
"Noted. Core Stone bullets are for special occasions only. Like fine wine." I turned the gun over in my hands. It was heavier than I expected, but it sat comfortably in my grip. "Wait, so lower ranked zombies don’t have these stones?"
"F and most E-ranks don’t. Their mutation isn’t advanced enough to crystallize. D-rank and above, that’s where you start finding them." She handed
the tal pipe too. "Pipe for the small fry. Gun for oh-shit monts."
"Oh-shit monts. Very technical." I chuckled.
"I’m a very technical woman." She winked and started walking again.
I shoved the pipe through my belt loop and held the gun at my side.
’I look absolutely ridiculous. Like a discount action hero who got his gear from a thrift store. Man, only if I could steal stuff from my novel MCs.’
But I felt ready. Or at least, I felt less terrified than yesterday, which I was counting as progress. Big progress, okay?
We moved deeper into the city and the change was imdiate. The vegetation that had been overtaking the outskirts thinned here, replaced by sothing darker.
A grayish moss that clung to every surface like a skin disease, pulsing faintly in the dim light. The air thickened too. I could feel it pressing against my chest, a subtle weight that hadn’t been there in District 3.
"Feel that?" Zero asked without looking back.
"Yeah. Like a hippo sitting on my lungs." I nodded.
"That’s the mutagen concentration. Your body’s fighting it. Good. That’s how you adapt, exposure and resistance. Think of it as a workout for your cells."
"My cells would like to file a complaint with managent." I rolled my eyes.
She snorted. Actually snorted. I was keeping a ntal tally of every ti I made this woman laugh. Current count: four.
The first zombie found us two blocks into District 11.
It crawled out from under a collapsed storefront awning, an F-rank by the look of it. Gray skin, jerky movents, about as threatening as the one I’d killed with the vending machine. Zero didn’t even slow down as she just looked at
expectantly.
"All yours, handso." She even winked at .
I walked up to it, pipe in hand. It lunged at
so I sidestepped, let it stumble past , and cracked the pipe across the back of its skull. It went down in two hits.
*Getting easier.’
"Clean," Zero said approvingly. "See? Your body’s already responding better. That sidestep was faster than anything you did yesterday."
"Maybe I’m just naturally talented and was hiding it this whole ti." I smirked.
"Sure, darling. That’s definitely it."
We pushed forward.
Two more F-ranks ca at us from a side street and I handled them both without much trouble. The pipe felt lighter in my hands now, and my movents were starting to flow instead of stutter. The gene prir was working its magic, slowly but surely.
Then an E-rank showed up.
It was different. Bigger and faster. Its muscles were more defined, and its eyes had a faint glow to them instead of the milky white of the F-ranks. It moved with actual coordination, circling
instead of charging blindly.
’Smarter too. Great.’
It feinted left and lunged right but I saw it. I barely dodged, the thing’s claws raking the air where my chest had been a half second ago. My heart slamd against my ribs.
"Use the terrain!" Zero called from behind , arms crossed, completely calm. Like she was watching a cooking show instead of her sugar boy almost getting disemboweled.
I grabbed a chunk of debris and threw it at the zombie’s face. It flinched, just for a second, and I closed the gap. I swung the pipe low, connecting with its knee.
The joint buckled sideways with a crack, and the zombie staggered. Before it could recover, I brought the pipe down on its head with everything I had.
It crumpled.
"Not bad," Zero said. "You’re learning to commit. Yesterday you hesitated before every swing."
"Yesterday I hadn’t killed anything before. Now I’m practically a veteran." I replied.
"Veteran of two days." She walked past
and ruffled my hair. "But a cute veteran."
"I’ll take it."
The State Bank of Velham announced itself with a crumbling stone facade and letters so weathered that only "S_A_E BA_K" remained.
The building was massive, a five-story structure that had probably been impressive once. Now half of it had collapsed inward, leaving a jagged cross-section of floors exposed like a concrete wound.
And it was crawling with zombies. Disgusting beings.
I counted at least a dozen from our position behind an overturned bus. F-ranks mostly, shuffling through the ground floor lobby like the world’s worst bank custors. A couple of E-ranks lingered near what used to be the reception desk.
I wondered how would bank employees react if they saw a zombie enter their bank? Maybe tell them to co next day?
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