Chapter 6：Don't hurt me

Zane decided it was time to shake things up at the supermarket! He bid farewell to the crew and started yanking down the store signs. This big ol' space was about to become his personal stash house!

Zane hit up a bunch of suppliers, meatpacking joints, and big-time farm operators.

Delivery trucks were zipping back and forth, dropping off loads of fresh meat and cleaning supplies. Zane was stocking up big time!

"Mr. Zane, got your delivery!" The delivery guys were having a field day, lugging box after box into the old supermarket. Soon, the place was jam-packed with hefty cardboard boxes.

Turns out, these boxes were filled with Zane's "toys": a hundred compound bows, a hundred crossbows, and a whole arsenal of daggers and machetes—hundreds of items in total!

In the Apocalypse game, these tools were must-haves for staying safe! Even though Zane was gearing up to be a Zombies, a smart one like him needed to be armed, right?

Why skip on guns? Too noisy! They'd just bring all sorts of unwanted guests. Plus, in the Apocalypse, who's to say guns would even work? If they didn't, they'd be nothing but expensive paperweights.

...

As time sprinted towards the Apocalypse like a runaway horse, Zane's cash was running thin. But smart as he was, he'd only paid a deposit, which let him gobble up the market like a black hole, leaving suppliers begging for mercy as demand blew past supply.

The shelves, once stocked, were now bare and stashed away in Zane's secret cache, leaving rows of empty shelves standing like lonely dancers without partners.

Tomorrow, the Apocalypse would hit. Zane was ready to rumble, but still, he grabbed a mop and gave the supermarket floor a final polish, making it shine like new.

He peered out the window, taking in the street scene, trying to memorize every detail.

Cars zipped by, folks rushed home from work, kids lined up neatly crossing the street, and parents scooped up their little ones with big smiles.

Everything seemed so normal, just another evening. But Zane knew that by tomorrow, it would all be history.

Zane's heart was calm, soaking up these last peaceful moments. But the quiet was short-lived, like a song cut off mid-tune.

"Crash!" A loud noise broke the silence. The locked rolling door was busted open, and three figures strolled in.

"Mr. Zane, I'm starving, hook me up with some grub," the leader, a young dude named Ethan, demanded. He and his pals were the local nuisances, always bugging the shopkeepers. Most just handed over some food to shoo them away.

But Zane didn't even look their way. He simply said, "The supermarket's closed, no grub left."

"What?" The trio stared in disbelief at the empty shelves. They remembered the place being loaded just days ago. How could it shut down so fast?

"The supermarket's closed, so no more flirting with that cute warehouse manager?" one of the sidekicks whined.

"Ethan, what now?" another chimed in.

Ethan thought for a sec, then looked at Zane. "Mr. Zane, the store might be closed, but you can't just leave us hanging. How about spotting us some cash for a bite?"

Zane, wanting no more drama during his last quiet moments, casually whipped out a wad of hundred-dollar bills, over a grand in total. To him, about to turn Zombies, money was as good as trash.

The sight of the cash floored Ethan and his crew. They hadn't expected Zane to be so chill. They figured he was just scared, which is why he forked over so much dough.

"You're alright, kid. You got respect," one of the cronies said, eyeing the cash. They felt cool hanging with Ethan. "This is how you rule the streets!"

"Yeah, rolling with Mr. Ethan is the sweet life!"

"..."

"Yo, dudes, let's bounce!" Ethan hollered, strutting like he just won the big game. Maybe it was all that puffing, but suddenly, he felt a tickle in his throat, like a kitten was scratching at it.

"Ugh, ptui!"

He opened up and spat, and his spit hit Zane's squeaky-clean floor, shining like a new dime.

Zane's eyebrows pinched together, and he shot Ethan a look like he just saw a heap of garbage.

"Hold up." Zane's voice was smooth like glass, but it carried some serious weight.

Ethan and his buddies turned, all puzzled. "What's the deal?" Ethan asked, thinking Zane was just being dramatic.

"The floor's dirty," Zane said, cool but firm.

Ethan cracked up, thinking it was all a big fuss over nothing. "It's just spit, bro. Chill."

His crew echoed him, rolling their eyes at Zane. They thought he was making a mountain out of a molehill. They had just squeezed some cash out of Zane, and he didn't even flinch.

Now, over some spit? What could go wrong?

But they weren't ready for Zane's next move. Quick as lightning, Zane whipped out a shiny dagger. It sliced the air and stuck right in Ethan's neck—a cold finish!

Ethan's eyes popped, his face a mask of shock and disbelief. He tried to speak, but only blood bubbled out.

"Thud!"

Ethan hit the floor hard, like a chopped tree. He was gone without ever getting why Zane went zero to a hundred real quick. The other two were shook, seeing their boss drop so fast.

"What... what just went down?"

Their mouths trembled, eyes wide with fear. They looked at Zane, who was as chill as ice, like he had nothing to do with the drama.

For Zane, who'd seen some real Zombies action, this was just another Tuesday. But for the sidekicks, it was pure horror. They grabbed onto the shelves, knees knocking, begging Zane.

"Man, sorry, please! Didn't mean no disrespect!"

"Yo, just let us slide, we'll keep quiet."

Zane cracked a mysterious smile. "You're good to go. I'm not gonna touch you," he said, waving them off.

"Oh, thank... thank you!" They exhaled big time and made a break for it.

But as they dashed, Zane quietly grabbed his crossbow. He locked eyes on one, no hesitation, and let an arrow fly.

"Whoosh!" The arrow zipped and nailed the guy in the back of the head. He screamed and dropped, gone.

"What??" The other thug saw his buddy down, an arrow sticking out, and freaked. He spun around only to find Zane loading another arrow, aiming with a cold stare.

This flip of fate scared the life out of the thug. Weren't they just given a pass? This switch-up was quicker than a blink!

"Please, I beg you, don't do this!..." He couldn't finish his plea before Zane's arrow hit him square in the forehead. He dropped like a sack, and all went quiet.

"These crossbows ain't half bad," Zane noted casually, eyeing the bodies.

With a flick of his wrist, the three bodies vanished, tucked away in his spatial storage. To him, everything, alive or dead, had its place.