First Blood
Chapter 2 : First Blood
Jack's breath was still ragged, his mind racing as he tried to process the surreal events unfolding before him. The system screen continued to float in his vision, unfazed by his confusion or panic.
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SYSTEM NOTICE:
REWARD FOR COMPLETING QUEST: BEGINNER PACK (WEAPON, WATER, RATIONS)
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He didn't know what that meant, but "weapon" was the only word that stood out in his mind. If those things—the zombies—were still after him, he was going to need it. Jack scanned the area around him. The alley was narrow, lined with broken glass, trash bins, and overgrown vines creeping up the walls. Nothing seemed like a safe hiding spot, but at least it gave him a moment of respite.
As if in response to his thoughts, a small object materialized in front of him, glowing faintly. It looked like a standard military duffel bag, frayed at the edges. Cautiously, Jack reached out and grabbed it. It felt real—solid. He unzipped it, his hands shaking slightly.
Inside was a small, rusted machete, a bottle of water, and a few vacuum-sealed pouches of what looked like dried food. His fingers immediately closed around the handle of the machete. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.
"Okay, okay... now what?" he muttered to himself, his pulse starting to steady. He glanced back up at the system interface, which had now updated.
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NEW QUEST: FIND SHELTER BEFORE NIGHTFALL
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Shelter. Right. If those things were out here during the day, he didn't want to think about what night might bring. He forced himself to push aside the panic and focus. There had to be somewhere nearby, somewhere defensible.
Jack took a deep breath, tightening his grip on the machete, and edged out of the alley, trying to keep his footsteps quiet. The streets were eerily empty, save for the occasional groaning of the infected in the distance. The desolation was overwhelming. This wasn't just some abandoned city; this was a graveyard.
As he moved cautiously down the street, he scanned the surrounding buildings. Most were gutted, their windows shattered, doors barely hanging on hinges. But ahead, just a few blocks away, he spotted something that might work—a small convenience store. The windows were boarded up, but the structure itself looked mostly intact.
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SYSTEM HINT: CHECK STRUCTURES FOR DEFENSE POTENTIAL.
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Jack nodded to himself. "Alright, system... let's see if this place can hold up."
He jogged toward the store, careful to stay low and avoid making too much noise. The front door was ajar, a weak creaking sound emanating from it as it swayed in the wind. Jack pushed it open with the machete and slipped inside. The interior was dark, but there were no immediate signs of movement.
His eyes quickly adjusted to the gloom. The shelves were overturned, most of the food long gone, likely looted or spoiled. But the building's walls were solid, and the front entrance could be barricaded if he found something sturdy enough.
Jack moved cautiously through the aisles, gripping the machete tightly. The silence pressed down on him, amplifying every tiny sound—his own breathing, the distant patter of rain against the broken windows. He reached the back of the store, where a small storage room was tucked away behind a metal door.
It was locked.
"Of course," Jack muttered under his breath. He gave the handle a few forceful pulls, but it didn't budge. Just as he was about to turn away, the distant sound of shuffling footsteps caught his attention.
He froze.
The sound grew closer—slow, deliberate, but unmistakable. Jack's heart thudded in his chest. He glanced over his shoulder at the entrance. Whatever was out there, it was heading straight for him.
The machete felt too light in his hand, but it was all he had. He ducked behind one of the shelves, holding his breath, every muscle tense. The footsteps grew louder, and soon, a shadow fell across the entrance of the store.
A zombie shuffled inside, its head jerking from side to side as if it were sniffing the air. The creature's clothes were tattered, its skin gray and peeling. Its mouth hung open, a sickening gurgle escaping its throat.
Jack swallowed hard, gripping the machete so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He couldn't fight this thing. Not yet. Not without a plan.
But the zombie continued forward, its unsteady footsteps taking it deeper into the store. Jack stayed low, moving quietly along the edge of the aisle, his back pressed against the shelves. He needed to get to the door, or find something to distract it.
His foot caught on a tin can, sending it clattering across the floor.
The zombie's head snapped toward the noise, its milky white eyes locking onto Jack's position.
Shit.
It let out a low, guttural growl and lunged forward with surprising speed. Jack barely had time to react. The machete swung up, clumsily, and caught the zombie's arm, cutting deep into its decayed flesh. But the creature barely seemed to notice. It was still coming, jaws snapping hungrily.
Jack stumbled back, panic rising. His heel caught on another object, and he hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of him. The zombie was on him in an instant, reaching for his throat.
With a wild swing, Jack brought the machete up again, this time slashing across the zombie's face. The blade bit deep, severing part of its skull. The creature gurgled and collapsed on top of him, twitching violently.
Jack pushed it off, gasping for air. The stench was overwhelming, but at least the thing was dead. He lay there for a moment, his chest heaving, heart pounding in his ears. The system screen flickered into view again, but he could barely register the words through the adrenaline coursing through his veins.
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SYSTEM UPDATE: FIRST KILL.
REWARD: EXPERIENCE POINTS (10).
WARNING: NOISE HAS ATTRACTED OTHER INFECTED.
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Jack's breath caught in his throat. The warning sent a chill down his spine. He didn't have time to rest. If that zombie had heard the noise, there were bound to be more on the way.
He scrambled to his feet, wiping the blood from his hands. He needed to get into the storage room—now. Grabbing a heavy metal shelf, he dragged it toward the front door, creating a makeshift barricade. It wouldn't hold for long, but it was better than nothing.
The footsteps were getting closer again, this time more than one pair. Jack's pulse quickened as he turned back to the storage room door. He raised the machete and brought it down on the lock, again and again, the metal protesting with each strike.
Finally, the lock gave way.
Jack threw open the door and slipped inside, pulling it shut behind him. The room was small, cramped, filled with half-empty boxes of old supplies. He leaned against the door, trying to steady his breathing.
The infected had reached the store, and the sound of their snarls filled the air. They pounded against the barricade, clawing and scraping. Jack knew it was only a matter of time before they broke through.
He slid down the door, clutching the machete close, his mind racing. How long could he keep this up? How long could he survive?
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SYSTEM NOTICE: SHELTER FOUND.
REWARD: 5 HEALTH REGENERATION.
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A thin smile tugged at the corner of Jack's lips. He didn't know what this "system" was, or what it wanted from him, but one thing was clear: the game had just begun.
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