Have You Ever Fought for Your Own Life?

The phone line was undoubtedly busy, and Gavin couldn't hear the ringing from inside the room.

The two zombies outside the door showed no signs of being drawn away by the ringing phone.

In the bathroom, Madison slowly filled the tub, sitting on the edge of the steps and staring blankly at Gigi's corpse and the vomit.

Even without a body, Gigi's head was still moving, opening and closing its mouth as it stared at Madison.

Madison and Gigi locked eyes for a full dozen seconds before he abruptly stood up, went to the bed, and grabbed a quilt to cover Gigi's head and body.

As the quilt soaked up the blood, Madison let out a sigh of relief, then stripped naked, stepped into the tub, and sat under the running water to rinse off.

While scrubbing, he suddenly remembered something, retched violently twice, and then collapsed over the edge of the tub, vomiting uncontrollably.

Hearing Madison's retching, Gavin felt a wave of nausea and cleared his throat, feeling like he might vomit too.

Fighting back the urge, Gavin dialed the numbers of a few more teammates.

Without exception, no one answered.

Instead, the faint sound of shattering glass drifted in from outside the window.

Gavin suspected that zombies in other rooms had broken through the glass and fallen into the courtyard.

Madison was startled by the sound of the glass, jumped out of the tub in a panic, and scrambled to the window to take a look.

After a glance, he turned back and shouted helplessly at Gavin.

"Outside..."

"Keep your fucking voice down!"

Slap!

Interrupted by Gavin's warning, Madison instinctively slapped a hand over his mouth, then hurriedly turned back to keep watching the window.

Confirming that no zombies had been attracted to them, Madison left the window and crouched over to Gavin.

"There look to be seventeen or eighteen people out there, running fast as hell—fuck, just like the zombies in Brad Pitt's new movie!"

"I know, fuck, hurry up and get yourself together, put your clothes on so you can take my place—I haven't even gotten dressed yet!"

Gavin kicked him, and Madison hurried back to the bathroom, splashing some warm water on his face from the faucet.

He then trotted to the closet to rummage through Gavin's clothes.

This estate was the property of the Dallas Cowboys' owner, and Gavin and the team had celebrated in this villa more than once; it was even a party spot for the Dallas Mavericks.

Because of this, every room in the villa was stocked with plenty of oversized clothing to accommodate the players from the Cowboys and the Mavericks.

Madison put on a set of oversized athletic gear, added several extra layers of socks, and found knee and elbow pads, layering them on one after another.

Once he was mostly dressed, he went to the door to relieve Gavin, bracing himself against the door as his teammates continued to slam against it, babbling incoherently.

"Are we just going to hold the door like this? Stop it, we're dead, fuck!"

"There were over three hundred people last night, goddammit—even the basketball players came to join the fun. This number is just fucking cursed!"

"Can you hear that? There seem to be more people outside now. We're finished!"

"I have six kids, goddammit, what the fuck am I supposed to do? Right, my kids, my home, what about me, I..."

"Just shut the hell up, Madison, don't make me shove this knife into your mouth. Sam Off would definitely eat it."

Gavin cursed as he put on his clothes, causing Madison to turn back in agony.

He leaned his head against the door, and within seconds, tears began to fall rhythmically onto the carpet, timed with the vibrations of the door panel.

As Gavin pulled on his socks, he saw Madison crying so bitterly that he simply tossed the phone at his feet and said, "Call home if you want, but it's better not to—as long as you don't call, there's still a sliver of hope, man."

"What about you, Gavin? Did you call your family? Your mom or your dad? You aren't even married!"

Madison replied, crouching down to grab the phone.

But just as he crouched, a sound reached his ears—a propeller noise that went from slow to fast.

Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump...

The moment the sound reached the room, Madison gripped the phone tightly.

"Gavin!" he warned.

Gavin nodded along.

"It's a helicopter."

"A helicopter! Thank God! We're saved!"

Madison let out an excited, low roar, then widened his eyes and jerked his head toward the window, signaling Gavin to take a look.

Gavin nodded and walked toward the window while pulling on his socks.

But before he could even get close, the helicopter noise, which had lasted only six or seven seconds, cut off abruptly, followed immediately by the sound of a crash and a violent explosion.

Sizzle!

BOOM!

CRASH!

"Fuck!"

Madison was on the verge of a breakdown. His massive frame collapsed to his knees in front of the door like a crumbling mountain, his voice thick with despair.

"Don't bother looking, it's all over. Even the helicopter went down. No one is coming to save us, we're completely..."

"We're in luck."

Gavin's sudden interjection cut through Madison's hopelessness, causing him to look over in surprise.

Following Madison's gaze, Gavin crouched by the window and pulled back a section of the curtain, revealing the source of the firelight coming from the blind spot on the left side of the window.

Even from this distance, Madison could see dozens of figures sprinting across the courtyard, all charging toward the fire and the sounds of the explosions.

Aside from three or four unlucky zombies that had tumbled into the pool and couldn't climb out, every zombie in the manor had been drawn away by the blasts.

Gavin pulled the curtain further, pointing behind Madison with a look of relief.

Following Gavin's gesture, Madison had a sudden realization and finally noticed that the pounding had stopped!

He hurriedly pressed his ear against the silent door to confirm.

Gavin looked at Old Mac, then back out the window. After waiting three or five seconds, Madison turned back and gave a "safe" signal.

"They're gone. Damn it, we're in luck. We are really in luck!"

Madison's mood improved significantly; the feeling of not having zombies slamming against the door was wonderful, and even Gavin seemed much more relaxed.

He pulled the curtain shut and returned to the wardrobe to continue dressing, speaking to Madison as he did so.

"That bunch really looked like the zombies from Brad Pitt's new movie. They mutate fast and run even faster."

"I saw Gigi mutate after just two coughs, and you said Leonard mutated seconds after he was bitten."

Brad Pitt's World War Z had just been released this year, in 2013, and the new film was quite a hit lately.

Under any other circumstances, Madison wouldn't have minded following the lead to chat with Gavin about Pitt's ex-wife.

But right now, Madison just wanted to find Pitt and beat him to death.

Or have Pitt's ex-wife put him out of his misery.

Seeing that Madison wasn't in the mood, Gavin jumped twice on the carpet, adjusting to the feeling of his joints being locked by multiple layers of protection, before heading to the fireplace.

He unhooked a military knife and handed the unsharpened blade to Madison, saying softly.

"Don't just stand there, take it. You know what to do in a minute, right?"

"I know. Damn it, touchdown!"

Madison gripped the knife, nodded heavily, and replied.

"I'll watch your back just like in the game, man. No one is touching my Quarterback until I go down!"

"That's right, just like in the game. Stay calm, stay focused, and give it everything you've got!"

Gavin patted Madison on the shoulder.

"Once we open the door, go straight to your room to get your phone, then head to the boss's room to find the guns. That guy is an old cowboy; we've used his hunting rifles before, we even played clay pigeon shooting yesterday afternoon."

As he spoke, Gavin firmly grabbed the doorknob, preparing to open the door.

He wasn't the type to hesitate during a zombie apocalypse.

Rather than sitting around in a bedroom without food or water, he would rather die on the path to fighting for his life.

But...

As Gavin tightened his grip on the knob, Madison grabbed his wrist.

"Wait!"

Madison said, trembling.

"Are we really going out there? It's actually pretty safe here. Maybe if we wait until morning, the police and the National Guard will come to rescue us."

As his voice trailed off, seemingly noticing Gavin's dissatisfaction, Madison swallowed hard and emphasized.

"This is the Rich District of the Rich District, isn't it? The Mayor of Dallas was at the party last night, too. Maybe there will be a rescue!"

"Is that so?"

Hearing this, Gavin looked at the hopeful Madison with a blank expression.

"From the moment Gigi mutated until now, a full six minutes have passed. How many calls for help have you heard?"

"Less than three!"

"How many people were at the party? At least two or three hundred! Yet there was only one scream, one gunshot, and the brief sound of a helicopter starting up! What kind of mutation ratio is that?"

"If you apply that ratio to the police and the military, especially since it's only three in the morning, how many do you think are left unscathed?"

At this, Gavin shook his head under Madison's desperate gaze and sneered.

"Rescue? Don't be ridiculous!"

"Instead of waiting for rescue, you and I should be grateful that the exploding helicopter drew away a large number of zombies."

"We should be even more grateful that you turn into one of those things just seconds after being bitten."

"Once you and I are surrounded by zombies, at least the pain before death won't last very long."

"Most importantly, if we don't take a chance to scavenge for food, water, and weapons while the zombies are distracted by the explosion, do you want to wait until they're ready for us?"

As his words faded, Gavin pulled away from Madison and slowly, carefully turned the doorknob.

Click.

As the bolt slid open, Gavin turned his head and sneered at Madison.

"Madison, have you ever risked your life for anything?"