The warm midday sun hung high overhead as the car rattled its way toward Narita Airport.
After the sleepless night, three of the four passengers had dozed off, leaving only Haruno at the wheel. Within moments of stopping, Utaha and Yukino snapped awake, every survivor conditioned to fear danger even in silence. Sosuke Kitahara opened his eyes, scanning the surroundings sharply.
"Haruno, why'd we stop?" Utaha rubbed her face to shake off the drowsiness.
"Running low on fuel," Haruno pointed at the dashboard. "It's safe enough here let's fill up before it gets worse."
Kitahara leaned forward, noting the fuel gauge brushing the danger line. After surveying their surroundings, he nodded, retrieved a spare canister from the trunk, and refueled. Minutes later, the engine roared to life again.
"You should switch out," Kitahara said with a grin. "You've only had half an hour of rest. Let me drive."
Haruno hesitated, then slid into the passenger seat. "Keep east. Once we near the airport perimeter, turn north."
"Got it."
They drove on. But the closer they came to Narita, the harder the roads became. Wrecked vehicles jammed intersections. Burnt-out shells littered the way. Even Kitahara's sharp driving skills couldn't save the Nissan from scraping paint, and eventually a rear tire went flat, pierced by stray nails.
They abandoned it in a tangle of broken glass and twisted metal. Kitahara perched atop a battered G-Wagon, chewing bread and surveying the horizon with binoculars.
"This morning we've barely moved a few kilometers," Utaha muttered, swinging her blade into a staggering half-rotten zombie. Its skull split with a crack, blood spraying as it collapsed lifeless. She wiped the blade clean with weary disdain. "Killing zombies has become routine… Who would've thought, just two weeks ago?"
Kitahara jumped down, dusting his hands. "Pack up. We're going on foot."
"What? We're not driving anymore?" Yukino leaned out the window in surprise.
"Can't. The wrecks ahead block the road," Kitahara handed her the binoculars. The mountains of cars left no doubt.
Yukino sighed, glancing back at the Nissan. "What a waste of gas…"
Haruno shook her head. "Heavy barrels of fuel aren't portable anyway. Better to use them than leave them behind."
They pressed forward on foot. Soon, Yukino froze, pointing at a crumpled black Mercedes lodged against a tree.
"That license plate… I know it."
"Of course you do," Haruno snorted. "Your favorite rival's family car. The two of you never met without trading barbs."
Yukino's face blanched. "Miura Yumiko's…?"
Utaha raised an eyebrow. "Miura Yumiko? A classmate?"
Yukino nodded grimly. Once, Yumiko had been the reigning queen of their high school social circle vain, beautiful, adored, always chasing after Hayama Hayato. But now her family's luxury car was nothing but wreckage, its airbags shredded, two corpses inside.
Silent, Yukino pried open the twisted door. A corpse slumped forward with a snarl before she ended it in one clean stroke.
"Kitahara, Utaha… would you mind waiting? I want to bury them," she asked softly.
Kitahara said nothing, only grabbed a discarded shovel and began digging. Yukino blinked in surprise, then joined him. Together, they laid the bodies in a shallow pit, covering them with soil.
"Don't lose hope," Kitahara said firmly, resting the shovel upright. "Until you see the bodies, your parents may still be alive."
"…Yes. You're right." Yukino exhaled, her resolve returning.
Minutes later, the group reached a broken stone bridge. Half-collapsed guardrails hung over a river below, dark shapes darting beneath the current mutant fish, sharp-finned and hungry.
"Why are there so many wrecks out here?" Haruno frowned, scanning the desolate scene.
"I think I know why," Utaha muttered, handing Kitahara the binoculars.
He adjusted them and focused. A brown building loomed beyond. The sign read: Chiba Shooting Club.
"A shooting club?" Kitahara murmured.
It made sense. In Japan, civilian gun ownership was tightly restricted. But shooting clubs private ranges were havens for enthusiasts. Weapons and ammunition might be stockpiled inside.
"No wonder the road's clogged," Kitahara said. "It's a treasure trove."
"There could be survivors too," Yukino said. "But… they might not welcome us."
Kitahara's grin was sharp. "Then we take it anyway. Guns and ammo mean we don't need to rely on the airport. Straight to Yamanashi."
The three women chambered rounds in unison, the metallic clicks echoing in the silence.
Crossing the bridge, they entered a district seemingly untouched by Tokyo's relentless urbanization. Wooden storefronts from the Showa era still stood, shutters nailed shut, the air thick with dust and memory. It felt like stepping into an old photograph except for the occasional zombie wandering the empty streets.
"Strange…" Utaha whispered after Yukino dispatched one with startling precision. "Don't you feel it? Their movements… slower, almost predictable."
"Zombies have always been slow," Yukino replied, tugging her blade free. "Unless… Utaha, are you awakening?"
Haruno turned sharply toward Utaha, remembering Kitahara's secrets about awakening. But Utaha only waved her hands. "No, no. Just a feeling." Yet in her heart, she recalled last night when instinct told her she would hit the Licker, and she had, against all odds.
Kitahara watched her quietly. He could feel it: the faint ripple of an awakening. Utaha's gift was not close combat it was marksmanship. He would need to find her a sniper rifle.
Together they cleared twenty zombies, carving a path toward the Shooting Club. But the final street was a death trap: a long, narrow stretch with no cover, zombies shambling in scattered clusters.
Haruno wiped sweat from her brow. "Why not just cut through them? With Kitahara in the lead, we could break through fast."
"No," Yukino countered sharply. "There could be more inside the buildings. Recklessness will get us killed. We need another way."
"I've only been here once with my father. I don't know the side paths…" Haruno frowned. "If nothing else, we'll have to run it."
Kitahara tapped his temple and chuckled. "I almost forgot. This time we outsmart them."
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