Before splitting up, each of them grabbed ten plastic bags—except for Mark, who took twenty, and Danny, who was assigned to collect water bottles instead of food. Once armed with enough bags to carry a decent haul, they separated and headed down different aisles.
As Johnathan walked through the snack aisle, his eyes scanning shelves stacked with chips and junk food, his thoughts drifted. It was surreal how quickly everything had changed. Just yesterday, his biggest concern had been schoolwork and exams. Now, in the span of mere hours, he had been forced to grow up. Survival wasn't optional. It wasn't theoretical. It was immediate—and it wasn't just about him. His family depended on him.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the crystal he had found earlier, turning it over in his palm. It shimmered faintly under the store lights.
No… not yet.
The memory of the first one's pain was still fresh. The burning sensation. The feeling of his heart about to explode.
I can't risk passing out right now. Not when things are this unstable.
He slipped the crystal back into his pocket and focused on gathering supplies. Within two minutes, seven of his ten bags were stuffed with chips.
That's enough junk food.
He filled the remaining three with protein-rich snacks—mixed nuts, almonds, trail mix. Things that would actually sustain them.
Once finished, he began heading back toward the entrance.
That's when he heard it.
A loud metallic bang echoed from the storage room door at the far left end of the aisle—directly in front of where Ivan had been searching.
The sound was unmistakable.
All four of them had heard it.
"Meet at Ivan's aisle," Mark called out firmly.
Johnathan quickly made his way over, carrying his ten filled bags with some difficulty. Danny was already there, stacking cases of water beside Ivan's supply pile. All three were staring at the storage door.
Johnathan lifted a hand in greeting before setting his bags down beside the others.
"What do you think made that noise?" Ivan asked quietly. "Trapped zombie?"
Johnathan considered it. "Definitely a zombie. But we don't know how many."
The storage rooms in places like this were large. There could be one—or a dozen.
"But do we kill them," Ivan continued, "or leave them?"
Mark stepped up behind them. "Good question."
Johnathan turned slightly. "We leave them. We don't know how many are inside, and we're not here to clear the store. We're here for food. That's the priority."
Mark crossed his arms. "True. But if there are more of them, that means more crystals. The more crystals we get, the stronger we become. And strength means survival."
He wasn't wrong.
Strength meant a better chance of saving his brother.
But was it worth risking their safety?
Danny spoke up. "We bring the food back first. Then we return. They're not going anywhere."
That settled it.
Everyone nodded.
They finished gathering supplies quickly and quietly before exiting the store and making their way back to the bike shop.
Ten tense minutes later, they slipped inside and headed upstairs.
Mark disappeared into his own apartment while Johnathan knocked on the neighboring door.
"Open up, Ash. It's us."
They had the keys, but their hands were full.
The door swung open almost immediately.
Ash stood there with a wide smile—but his red eyes betrayed him. He had been crying. Still, he tried to look strong.
"Welcome back, guys."
The boys couldn't help but smile in return. They carried the supplies inside and set everything down in the living room.
They didn't have much time to rest.
"Ash," Danny said gently, "we're heading back out. If we're lucky… maybe you'll get a crystal too."
Ash's eyes watered at the thought of them leaving again—but the idea of gaining power hardened his resolve. If he had a crystal, he wouldn't be a burden. He could protect himself. He could help them.
"Okay," he said quietly. "Be safe."
Johnathan stepped forward and ruffled Ash's hair. "We will."
Moments later, the three stepped back into the hallway.
Mark was already leaning against his door, arms crossed.
"Finally done?" he asked.
"Yeah," Ivan replied.
"Good. Let's move."
Once again, they navigated the streets carefully, avoiding every zombie they spotted. They slipped back into the convenience store and approached the storage room door.
It was still shut.
Good.
The zombies inside hadn't figured out how to open it.
"Ready?" Mark asked, gripping his bat.
"Yeah," they answered in unison.
Johnathan grasped the doorknob and twisted.
Locked.
They exchanged confused glances.
Did someone lock it from the inside?
Shaking off the thought, Johnathan tightened his grip and pulled with all his enhanced strength.
With a sharp crack, the lock shattered.
The door creaked open slowly.
As it swung wider and wider, the expressions on their faces shifted—from anticipation…
…to disbelief.