Thomas exhaled sharply, his HK416 clicking empty as he dropped the spent magazine.
He was stranded, outnumbered, and cut off from command.
And to make things worse?
A horde of undead was now funneling into the high-rise, drawn by the noise of his fight with the Reaper.
Their rotting figures stumbled through the ruined office space, former employees now shambling monsters, their dead eyes glowing faintly in the dim emergency lights.
Thomas knew he couldn't fight them all here. He needed to move fast.
The only escape?
The rooftop.
He reloaded his last magazine, gripping his rifle tight as the first wave of zombies lunged forward.
BANG-BANG-BANG!
Each headshot dropped a target instantly, but more kept coming.
They crawled over cubicles, pushed through shattered glass partitions, and toppled over office chairs in their relentless pursuit.
One of them—a former security guard, still wearing his ragged uniform—lunged at him, hands outstretched.
