Chris and Henry moved fast, intercepting the wave of zombies charging toward Ethan. With the pressure off, Ethan could finally focus on the Tier 4.
He touched his shoulder, wincing. That last swipe had gone deep—bone-deep. His left arm was already going numb, fingers barely responding.
Then the Tier 4 lunged again.
Ethan gritted his teeth, grabbed his barbell bar with his good arm, and swung it in a brutal horizontal arc.
BOOM.
The blow landed square in the zombie's chest. Ribs cracked like dry twigs, and the force sent the creature flying a good thirty feet before it crashed to the ground in a heap.
But broken bones didn't mean much to the undead. It twitched, then rose again, slower this time, eyes locked on Ethan.
It didn't charge right away. Instead, it circled, wary now.
Ethan stood his ground, barbell bar resting on his shoulder, watching it right back.
Then, just as Ethan let his gaze flick away—baiting it—the Tier 4 snapped.
It lunged.
