"Any ideas?" Rhett murmured to Henrik, barely moving his lips as they kept walking.
As they marched through the ruined streets of Brookside, Rhett caught glimpses of other zombies in the formation. A woman whose arms had been replaced with mechanical appendages—some kind of enhancement quirk twisted into undeath. A man whose skin had turned to stone, now serving as living armor for those around him. Each one had been someone once, with lives and dreams and fears.
Rhett didn't know what would happen if they followed the Zombie Queen into the arena, but he was pretty sure it would not be good. Natos had used it as a threat. The squatter had said the word in fear. Besides, arenas never had a positive connotation. Even as he closed his eyes, he could imagine the bloodshed and fighting that would be seen in an ancient colosseum.
He wanted absolutely none of that. He wanted no unnecessary fighting, nothing that halted his journey to save Lucille and the list.
Besides, who knew how long they could keep up this act? What if they slipped up and revealed that they were alive? What would the Zombie Queen do then?
Rhett dared a glance at Henrik. The boy's expression was unreadable—his face blank to mimic the other zombies, but his eyes, subtle and flickering, darted nervously beneath the mask. Henrik had always been brave—pragmatic, even ruthless when they first met. After each fight, he always ended up more weary and beaten up, until he had actually died.
He wondered what was going through the guy's head as they marched endlessly, but Henrik kept silent for a while, his breathing shallow and controlled.
"Not yet," Henrik whispered back, barely moving his lips. "Too many of them. We wait until their guard is down."
Can they even see us? Rhett wanted to say. They were at the extreme rear, and the Zombie Queen was in the middle of the crowd. The other zombies had their eyes straight forward, not responding to anything Rhett or Henrik did. He wanted to leave right then—they had fooled the Zombie Queen long enough—but what if she noticed? What if she could see through the zombies' eyes and notice if something was amiss?
Rhett decided it was something they couldn't risk. They had to play on the defensive now and avoid the majority of conflicts that came their way.
The army continued its relentless march, boots and various footwear striking pavement in perfect synchronization. The sound echoed off the broken buildings around them, a rhythmic drumbeat that seemed to announce their arrival to the entire district.
As they walked deeper into the city, Rhett noticed the architecture changing. The bombed-out ruins they'd grown accustomed to gave way to structures that, while damaged, were still largely intact. Windows had been boarded up, but smoke rose from chimneys. People actually lived here.
"Look," Henrik murmured, tilting his head slightly toward a cluster of buildings ahead.
Rhett followed his gaze and felt his stomach drop.
Massive concrete walls stretched across the street, blocking their path and extending in both directions as far as he could see. Watchtowers dotted the barrier every hundred meters, and even from this distance, Rhett could make out the silhouettes of armed guards pacing behind the ramparts. The glow of torchlight cast flickering shadows on the concrete, making the barriers look like the ribs of some massive beast.
They were walking straight into a contained city.
"Henrik. I think we need to leave. Now."
As if summoned by their approach, heavy iron gates that they hadn't seen earlier because of all the zombies in the parade blocking their field of vision began to grind open with a shriek of rusted metal.
Beyond the barrier, Rhett caught glimpses of a sprawling urban landscape—but not the dead wasteland they'd been traveling through. This place was alive, bustling with activity despite the late hour.
The gates loomed closer with each step. Rhett's mind raced. If they broke formation now, they'd be spotted immediately. The Queen would know they were alive, and a hundred zombies would converge on them in seconds.
But if they went through those gates...
"Henrik—"
"I know. But we can't run yet. Too exposed."
They passed through the iron gates with the rest of the parade. The moment Rhett's feet crossed the threshold, he heard the grinding of gears again. Behind them, the gates began to close like the jaws of a trap, metal teeth grinding against stone.
"Shit, I think it's too late," Henrik grunted.
The iron gates creaked shut with a final, resounding clang. They were trapped.
Henrik hadn't blinked in minutes. Rhett wondered how long until his friend broke character—and what Claudette would do if he did.
Market stalls lined the streets just inside the gates. People moved between them, but their movements were hurried, nervous. Everyone seemed to be looking over their shoulders, whispering in hushed tones that carried fragments of fear.
The Zombie Queen, held high by the Iron Knight's throne, finally moved to the front of the Zombie Parade.
"So this is Grand's place. Kind of tacky to be honest," the Zombie Queen judged as the Iron Knight carried her through the enclosed enclave of the city.
One guard, who was lanky and scantily armored, stepped forward as the Zombie Queen lowered herself from the Iron Knight. When the Zombie Queen's feet touched the ground, the lanky man knelt down, took the Zombie Queen's slender little pale hand and gave it a kiss. "We've been awaiting your arrival."
"Ooh, did Grand bring me a suitor?" The Zombie Queen chirped as she, impossibly, blushed—which Rhett didn't think was possible with her almost abnormally pale skin.
"Er, more like a tour guide to direct our esteemed guest through this temporary base," the lanky man corrected as he stood at full height, towering over the girl, almost twice her height. "You can call me Elliot."
"Well then, you can call me Claudette. I'll allow it, just for you," the Zombie Queen flirted as she blew a kiss which Elliot awkwardly accepted.
"Well then peasants, aren't you going to bow?" Claudette yelled at the other people who stared, not at her, but at the rest of the parade, dumbfounded at the sheer size of the army as Rhett heard fragments of whispers from what they said.
"—are those new fighters?"
"—Grand sure loves watching people kill each other. It's only a matter of time till we're next."
"—They don't even look alive. Look at those eyes..."
None of them were paying attention to Claudette.
Rhett could clearly see her temperament changing rapidly. Her arms were being folded tightly against her chest, her eyebrows scrunched up in anger, and her pupils shrank with murderous intent. The glow of torchlight cast flickering shadows on her pale skin, making her look more doll than queen.
"I said, aren't you all going to BOW!" Claudette screamed, and in an instant, the Iron Knight moved. Parts of his metal armor changed shape and left his dead body, transforming into murderous metal blades capable of killing in a direct hit.
Ten blades shot out—more than enough to kill a hundred people—if that had been her intent.
Instead, those who didn't bow down quickly enough received cuts at their arms, legs, faces and other parts of their body, but not to kill, just to injure. Immediately, shouts of pain, yells of terror and wails of anger flooded the street, followed by blood pooling on the cobblestones.
"QUIET!" Claudette yelled, jumping and stomping on the ground.
That was enough to reduce the cries to mere whimpers as people sobbed, using pieces of cloth to stem the blood flow as they returned to where they came from, casting fearful glances over their shoulders.
"That'll teach them to pay attention to me," Claudette muttered as the Iron Knight returned back to its stationary position, blood-stained blades fusing back to his armor with metallic clicks.
"Grand would prefer you don't damage his civilians. He has pretty strict rules about this," Elliot said as diplomatically as he could as he brushed off some of the blood that had caught on his clothes.
"Whatever," Claudette muttered grumpily as she folded her arms, her temper tantrum finished.
Elliot extended a hand to her, and reluctantly, she took it as he led her deeper into the city. The crowd of zombies began to follow, their synchronized footsteps echoing off the walls of the enclosed district.
Behind them, the iron gates stood closed, sealing their fate.
They were no longer just pretending to be among the walking dead—they were trapped with them.
And now they were going deeper into Grand's Domain.