EP 22 : Armed and Breathing

“Stairs,” Kanata said. “Two at a time.”

They moved.

The staircase was narrow, walls scarred with old claw marks and dried blood. The smell was worse here. Trapped. Stale. Like death had been waiting patiently.

A zombie officer tumbled down from the landing above, body bouncing off the railing.

Takiya stepped forward first.

One clean strike.

The head hit the wall with a dull thud.

Serizawa clicked her tongue. “Show-off.”

They pushed up anyway.

The second floor was a maze of offices and interrogation rooms. Doors hung open or were smashed inward. One cell still had a body inside, half-devoured, fingers curled like it was still begging.

Koko hid her face in Kanami’s jacket.

Kanata felt his jaw tighten.

“Eyes up,” he said. “They’re close.”

As if summoned, three zombies staggered out of the records room. One tripped over a chair. Another slipped on blood and slammed face-first into the floor.

Godou shrieked. “Oh come on, even dead you’re clumsy!”

Kanata fired twice.

Clean. Fast.

The noise echoed.

Too loud.

From the far end of the hallway, doors began to rattle.

“Great,” Serizawa muttered. “Dinner bell.”

They fell back into a tighter formation. Riot shield up front. Guns over shoulders. Takiya covering the flank.

A zombie burst out wearing riot gear, helmet cracked, baton still in its grip. It slammed into the shield, driving Kanata back a step.

Serizawa leaned around him and fired.

The bullet ricocheted off the helmet.

“Seriously?” she snapped.

Takiya slid in low and swept the legs. The body went down hard. Kanata put a round through the visor.

Silence followed.

Heavy breathing. The smell of gunpowder.

Godou slumped against a wall, chest rising fast. “Okay. That’s… that’s my daily cardio.”

Kanami was already moving, checking doors, counting exits. “We’re visible from outside up here. We need to finish fast.”

They reached the armory.

The door was bent outward, lock shattered.

Kanata swore under his breath.

Inside, it was worse.

Empty racks. Open crates. Only scraps left behind. A few shotguns. Limited ammo. Riot shields stacked haphazardly.

“This place was picked clean,” Serizawa said. “By people.”

Kanata nodded. “And not amateurs.”

They armed up anyway.

Kanata handed weapons out without ceremony. He didn’t ask who wanted what. He just placed them where they made sense.

Takiya accepted a shotgun and checked it with practiced ease.

Serizawa spun a pistol in her hand, smirked. “Feels nostalgic.”

Godou stared at her weapon nervously. “Are we sure these things don’t kick harder than they look?”

Kanami ignored the comment. She crouched beside Kanata. “Listen to me. We take what we can and leave. Staying is a bad idea.”

Kanata met her eyes.

He nodded.

That small gesture sent a quiet ripple through the group.

He heard it then.

Footsteps.

Not dragging.

Not random.

Running.

Kanata raised his gun slowly.

“Contact,” he said.

The door at the end of the hall burst open.

Not zombies.

People.

Armed.

And already pointing guns at them.

They weren’t alone.

And they weren’t the first ones here.