Outside, Ethan and the others had made it back to the main dining hall.
"They still haven't opened the damn door?" Ethan snapped, pacing in frustration.
"Nope. Not a peep from inside," Vivian said, shaking her head.
"You're strong as hell—ever think of kicking it down?" Ethan shot her a look.
"I was worried I'd break it. What if we can't block the zombies afterward?" she said, a little sheepishly.
"Fuck that! You're worried about later? If you don't kick it now, the zombies'll do it for you—and then you won't even get the chance to block anything!"
With a muttered curse, Ethan stepped forward and slammed his foot into the door.
Boom.
Over 1,600 pounds of force—and the door didn't budge. That surprised him.
He narrowed his eyes and activated True Sight. Through the door, he saw the problem: the other side was stacked floor to ceiling with tables, chairs, and whatever else they could pile up.
"Jesus. Overkill much?" Ethan muttered.
