His movements were as swift as a phantom's. The custom-made short blade in his hand carved a cold arc through the air, piercing precisely into the evolved zombie's head.
Immediately after, his footing shifted slightly, his figure blurring once more. He appeared behind another zombie as if teleporting—an elbow strike, a stab. His movements were clean and efficient, with no wasted motion.
In a matter of moments, the surrounding zombies had been cleared out.
The team, which had been tensed and ready for a fight, relaxed. As they looked at Jude Sheffield, the superpower users' eyes filled with a longing for such strength.
The group quickly dealt with the remaining regular zombies and, under Jude Sheffield's guidance, found a relatively sturdy small building with intact doors and windows to use as a temporary shelter.
As night deepened, the faint sounds of snoring could be heard from the group, exhausted from the long day.
