Downstairs from the gym, Ethan, Chris, Henry, Sean, Big Mike, and Skinny Pete each hefted a barbell bar over their shoulders and headed off down the street.
Back inside, more than thirty muscle-bound men lay groaning on the floor, writhing in pain, unable to get up.
They were all built like tanks—but unfortunately for them, they'd run into a pack of monsters even stronger. A few well-placed swings, and the whole lot of them were down for the count.
And that was with Ethan's crew holding back. If they'd gone all out, it wouldn't have ended with just a few bruises and broken ribs.
After all, they had just taken the guys' gear—no need to add murder to the list.
With that, Ethan led the group out of the residential zone, heading toward an area with fewer zombies to do some targeted hunting.
Fewer zombies meant fewer high-tier ones, sure—but it also meant they didn't have to waste time mowing down endless waves of low-tier trash. More time to focus on tracking down Tier 4s.
