Kill Him!

Gavin dove into the driver's seat of the Tyrannosaurus.

Eugene scrambled into the back seat, shoved aside the huge bundle of blankets, and lowered the window with the shotgun in his arms.

"Fuck him up! Chase him! I'm gonna knock his teeth out!"

Cursing, Eugene leaned halfway out of the back window, aiming his gun toward the distance.

Without an eight-power scope, he could only make out the McLaren speeding along the oak-lined drive in front of the villas before turning onto a road in the estate and heading straight for Highway 283.

At the same time, Gavin stomped on the gas, and the Tyrannosaurus roared, belching black smoke.

"Old Mac, keep up with me!"

He shouted to Madison, who had already rushed into the motorhome's driver's seat, then sped into the circular downhill stretch.

Watching Gavin pull dozens of meters ahead, Madison floored the gas and shouted to William.

"Officer, watch the windows! Doris, take the kid and hide. Get into the bathroom!"

As he spoke, the motorhome shot into the roundabout. The tremendous centrifugal force sent Doris and Winnie tumbling uncontrollably to the floor.

William braced himself against the sofa and pulled Winnie up, then pointed to the floor.

"Crawl! Crawl!"

Taking William's advice, Doris and Winnie crawled unsteadily until they reached the shower room. They shut the door and began praying nervously.

Meanwhile, Gavin glanced in the rearview mirror as he sped out of the roundabout, then eased off the gas a little.

When the motorhome appeared in the mirror, Gavin held position nearly thirty meters ahead of it and accelerated alongside it.

As he charged into the Rich District, Gavin peered through the buildings rushing past, trying to spot the villas.

Eugene kept his eyes on the McLaren and shouted from the back seat.

"Fuck, that bastard's on the main road!"

"That means the zombies are about to pour onto the main road too!"

As Gavin replied, a few zombies had already appeared along the roadside.

Seeing them, Eugene racked the shotgun and bellowed.

"Just focus on driving. I'm gonna turn this whole rich-people district into a goddamn mess!"

As he spoke, he stuck the gun out the window and aimed at a Land Rover parked by the road.

Noticing what Eugene was doing, Gavin hurriedly yelled at him.

"Put the gun down! Don't fucking shoot. The zombies aren't targeting us yet!"

"Can't you hear that McLaren up ahead still shooting? He's their target. As long as we get through this crowd before the zombies block the road, we'll be safe!"

"If you cause another problem and make us their target, I'll let the little cop cry over your corpse all she wants!"

As he finished, Gavin kept his left hand on the wheel and raised the Python with his right, pointing it at Eugene's head.

Eugene froze for a moment, then spat out the window.

"Ptooey! Don't point a gun at me, fuck! Just tell me what to do!"

With that, Eugene put away the shotgun and glared to the left, fuming.

Gavin lowered his pistol and kept an eye on Eugene in the rearview mirror while watching the road ahead.

Although a few zombies were on the right side of the road, the horde in the Rich District was still concentrated on the left, running diagonally toward the main road.

Gavin was less than three hundred meters from the horde.

The horde, meanwhile, was only about forty-five meters from the main road.

As the zombies drew closer to the road, Eugene looked around restlessly.

After forcing himself to stay quiet for a few seconds, he impatiently slapped the shotgun and asked,

"Do we really have to take this risk? Damn it, if that bastard in the McLaren wants to run, let him! Once he's gone, we can lead the zombies away!"

"And then what?"

Gavin answered at once.

"Then we follow behind him and clean up his mess for him?"

"Don't forget, the Rich District isn't our last problem. There's Cosca Airport up ahead, then Richard Town and the Lakeside Hotel District!"

"I can control what we do and make sure we don't cause a traffic jam."

"But if the McLaren keeps going, I can't guarantee what kind of trouble he'll stir up..."

Rat-tat-tat!

Crash!

Gavin was cut off by gunshots and the sound of shattering glass.

His eyes widened as he looked to the right. Two holes had suddenly appeared in the Tyrannosaurus's windshield, and bullets had pierced the passenger seat.

"Fuck!"

Gavin's hand jerked on the wheel on instinct, and the Tyrannosaurus swerved twice.

"Shit!"

Cursing, Eugene scrambled from the back seat into the passenger seat and asked,

"The glass is broken! Can you see the road?"

"I'm fine. Kick the glass out!" Gavin replied quickly.

"Got it!"

Eugene bellowed and kicked the shattered windshield.

Rat-tat-tat!

The gunfire erupted again. This time, the Tyrannosaurus's right side mirror was shot off, and another large hole appeared in the windshield on the passenger side.

Eugene's neck shrank at the shots, but he kept kicking the glass, one blow after another.

As Eugene kicked the windshield with all his might, Gavin leaned out the window to see the road ahead and glanced at the left side of the road.

They were only a hundred and ten meters from the horde, while the zombies, running in a diagonal line, were about twenty-eight meters from the road.

After checking the distance, Gavin pressed his lips together.

He didn't think the zombies would be a problem anymore.

But they had a much bigger problem now: the McLaren, firing at them from five hundred meters away!

In the passenger seat, Eugene kept kicking the glass and lay back as he cursed furiously.

"Motherfucker! That son of a bitch is trying to leave us and the zombies trapped in the Rich District. Fuck the rich! I should've—!"

"Kill him!"

Gavin shouted over Eugene.

Eugene kept kicking the glass and asked in disbelief,

"What did you say?"

"I said once we're past the horde, we'll catch up to him and kill him!"

Rat-tat-tat!

Another burst of bullets came as Gavin growled at Eugene, making both men tense up.

This time, however, they got lucky. Eugene was lying back in the passenger seat as he kicked the glass. The bullets passed through the windshield beside his legs and struck the seatback fifteen centimeters above his head.

"Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!!!"

Eugene's curses ran together.

Gavin kept his foot down on the gas, gritting his teeth as he watched the horde running almost parallel to him on the left.

Once he confirmed they'd passed the zombies, he roared,

"Fuck him! I'm speeding up! The only way to make him speed up too is to force him to grip the wheel and stop shooting at us!"

"Fuck, you're the boss!"

Eugene nodded, grumbling, and kicked the glass even harder.

With the windshield already shot and shattered, Eugene gave it three more kicks, finally sending the whole pane flying out.

The broken glass flew left with the force of his kick and hit the ground with a thud. The motorhome right behind them rolled over it.

By then, the motorhome had gradually reached 180 kilometers per hour. Even so, five or six zombies managed to reach its rear end.

They only brushed against it, though, and the motorhome still made it safely past the horde.

But now that it had passed the zombies, the motorhome had no chance of catching up to the Tyrannosaurus.

At that moment, Gavin floored the gas. In just two and a half seconds, the Tyrannosaurus reached 250 kilometers per hour.

As it accelerated, the distance between them and the McLaren shrank to about three hundred meters.

The McLaren sped up to over 230 kilometers per hour too. Eugene huddled in the passenger seat, pulled out his revolver, and started shooting at it.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The shots rang out, but none of them came close to hitting the McLaren.

Eugene lowered his gun and cursed.

"I should've brought a rifle!"

"Don't worry. We'll catch up to him!"

Gavin gripped the steering wheel with his left hand and fired repeatedly at the McLaren with the Colt Python.

When the magazine was empty, Gavin tossed the gun to Eugene and pulled bullets from his pocket, throwing them into Eugene's lap.

"Reload!"

As he spoke, Gavin shifted gears and accelerated again, pushing the Tyrannosaurus to its top speed of 290 kilometers per hour.

The speedometer stalled for a moment, then climbed slowly, one kilometer at a time. The distance between them and the McLaren quickly shrank to about two hundred and thirty meters.