Terror
Chapter 19
*Five minutes before the corner.*
Kaito stood under the shower, water streaming down his face, eyes empty, replaying everything that had led up to the freak. His body had gone still, almost lifeless, standing there.
His and Jane's task had been simple enough on paper — collect any long-range cellphones and a few laptops they could use later. Barely any effort involved, a quick dip into a couple of stores and out again.
Once they'd gathered everything they needed, there was nothing left to do but head to the food court. They could've been the first ones there, easily. Instead, they took a detour.
Jane, despite knowing exactly what kind of world they were in now, kept insisting they check the upper floors first — for reasons she never bothered explaining. Kaito didn't push it. They barely knew each other, and in his head this whole partnership was a one-time thing anyway, so he went along with it without much thought. Besides, they'd finished the actual job faster than either of them expected. Killing a little time before it was safe to head back down didn't seem like it would cost them anything.
Jane, for her part, had grown up living a genuinely luxurious life — though most of it spent cooped up in one place or another, with barely any real social life outside of work. Her build had never made clothes shopping simple; nothing off a standard rack ever quite sat right on her, and she'd spent years learning exactly which brands, which cuts, which tailors were worth the trouble. It was a small, private frustration most people never noticed, since she'd gotten so good at working around it. Born into money, she'd adapted fast, and by high school she already understood how to talk or smile her way through most rooms without much effort. That confidence had made her plenty of quiet enemies too — jealousy from other girls, even a teacher or two, nothing ever said outright but always readable in the way people carried themselves around her. She'd gotten good at picking that up over the years, reading a room from posture and tone alone.
"This doesn't fit either," she muttered, tossing aside a blouse that had looked fine on the hanger and fit nothing like it once she'd actually pulled it on. "I thought a place this size would carry more than one cut of anything. This is just—" She caught herself, glancing at the pile already growing at her feet. "Ugh. Sorry. Not your problem."
"Hey. Hey, you. Boy." She called out for Kaito, who'd stayed outside the store, not particularly eager to be seen loitering around a women's clothing shop while the world was busy ending.
She didn't let up, though. Kept calling until he finally gave in and stepped inside, arms crossed, doing his best impression of someone who had somewhere better to be.
"What?" he asked, not looking directly at her — she was still mid-change, a couple of half-tried outfits draped over a nearby rack.
"Does this look ridiculous or is it just me?" She held a jacket up against herself in the mirror, more genuinely asking than performing.
"Ridiculous how? It's a jacket."
"It's a jacket that doesn't close over my shoulders. Nothing in this entire store is cut for anyone who isn't built like a coat hanger." She dropped it onto the pile with the rest, more annoyed at the situation than at him.
"Cool. Can we go now?"
"You're so much help, you know that?"
"I carry the bags. That's the whole job description," he said flatly.
She almost laughed, actually rolled her eyes instead, and finally pulled on something plain and practical from the small pile that had survived her inspection — nothing that made a statement, nothing that needed explaining, just clothes that fit and would hold up to whatever came next.
She'd barely finished changing when the stomping started. At first she thought it might just be a vending machine somewhere, the sound was so faint — but it kept building, closer and closer, until there was no mistaking it.
"RUN!!!" Duncan's voice cut through the store, dragging Amy along by the hand, both of them sprinting for their lives. Startled, Jane called out without thinking.
"Up here!" — giving away exactly where they all were.
The stairs became the only thing standing between them and the zombies snapping at their heels as they climbed.
"What happened?" Jane asked, worried, once they'd put a floor between themselves and whatever was chasing them.
"I don't know," Duncan said, catching his breath. "They just came out of nowhere. First it was one, that wasn't a big deal, then a second — then a whole horde. I didn't want to risk finding out how big it actually was." He kept his eyes on the stairwell below, watching the shapes pile up.
"So what do we do now?" Amy asked, scared. Her frail frame wasn't built for the kind of running this situation was about to demand of all of them.
They never got the chance to actually form a plan. A heavy thud sounded behind them, and before anyone could react, the freak lunged straight at Jane. She barely dodged clear of it, and the group scattered into three directions in the chaos — Kaito alone, Jane knocked unconscious, and Duncan's group cut off on the other side.
"Get out of here, NOW!" Kaito shouted, shoving Duncan toward the emergency exit. There was no time left to hesitate. Duncan's group bolted through it, leaving Kaito to deal with the freak by himself.
Luckily, for the moment, it was fixated entirely on him. He used that, slipping back into the clothing store and weaving between the mannequins and clearance racks for cover, drawing it further and further from where Jane had fallen. Every time they shifted position, it paused to sniff at the air — and that's when Kaito realized something useful: it wasn't tracking him by sight. Sound and smell. That was all it had.
He picked his way carefully out of the store, avoiding the broken glass underfoot, and made straight for Jane, still out cold. As he struggled to wake her, something caught his eye on the floor nearby — a vintage lighter. He pocketed it without thinking twice, hauled Jane up onto his back, and turned to leave.
That's when the freak came around the corner, sniffing hard.
Fear took over. He started backing away, slow, deliberate, buying whatever distance he could. The only direction left open to him was the hallway toward the cafeteria — no other route existed. So he walked, and paused, and walked again, the freak's snarling and sniffing dragging his nerves to their absolute limit the entire way, until he finally reached the corner of that hallway.
Where it kept creeping closer. And closer still.
