The city was broken. Rex led his squad through the ruins, past wrecked buses and cracked roads.
Rex raised his hand. Behind him, the squad froze. A low groan rose from the street ahead.
Rex pointed forward. The squad tiptoed after him, careful not to make a sound.
A zombie shuffled past the bus. Rex stepped on something crunchy — a tin can. The zombie turned.
Rex held up a fist. Everyone crouched low behind a tire.
The zombie shuffled toward the flickering streetlight. Rex nodded. They crept forward again.
Rex counted under his breath. One, two, three. The squad matched his steps.
A banana peel lay right in their path. Rex stepped over it smoothly.
The zombie slipped — SPLAT! It slid face-first into a puddle.
Rex covered his mouth. The squad giggled quietly.
Rex opened the heavy door. The squad filed inside.
A lantern glowed on the wall. Rex sat by the door and watched. The squad was safe.
