Bile rises in my throat as I adjust my grip on my sword, perspiration forming at the nape of my neck. My vision moves from one zombie to the next, assessing weaknesses and anticipating my attack.

“Here we go,” Asher raises his blade. His gaze is locked on the Ragers leading the group right to us.

They keep an even pace, slightly faster than their Drooler counterparts. As such, they become our targets. We form a defensive stance. Asher and Rod position themselves in front, preparing to receive the brunt of the assault. Jamie and Jesse take up our flank, on the lookout for any traps. Val and I step in line behind, prepared to assist when necessary.

The first Rager goes down without a hitch. The sickening crunch of bone on metal making me cringe as its head is removed from its body. Asher huffs, “First down, another to go.”

I draw a steadying breath. Everything around me is moving in slow motion as the second Rager descends upon our party, with a bloodshot eye the sole human-like feature she has left. Asher brings his blade down on her, and she pivots, barely taking the blow to her shoulder instead.

“Fuck. She’s fast.” Rod charges, merely able to graze her chest.

Val reacts first. Her swing is a lightning strike to the monster’s neck; the only sound is the low whoosh from her blade soaring through the air. She returns to her defensive pose and watches, expressionless, as the creature falls.

“Damn, Val.” My eyebrows shoot up as my brain struggles to process the scene.

Val grins. “Thanks, Izzy.”

Jesse steers the group through a questionable area of dirt. “Four to go. Let’s get it.”

The Droolers are remaining, walking at a snail’s speed. Two stand ahead of the others, their bodies covered in more grime than cloth. They make a gurgling noise in the back of its esophagus as drool slides down its chin.

Jamie shivers. “Disgusting.”

Jesse frowns at her. “All this blood and gore and you’re squeamish of drool?”

“Yeah.” She shrugs, scanning the grassy floor.

“Focus, people. We’re not out of the woods yet.” Rod adjusts his stance to align with our target.

Val stares pointedly at the forest we have just come from, and I snicker.

Asher quirks an eyebrow in my direction, and I sober, returning to the task at hand. The pit in my stomach grows with each stride forward. I breathe through it, counting to ten, and hoping we move through this as easily as possible. My gaze wanders to the individual monsters we have yet to face. All are extremely dirty; their eyes are cloudy gray. What little hair they have on their heads is matted and tangled, and they seem to be mostly dragging themselves through the tall grass.

Except the straggler taking up the rear. He is cleaner, less knotted, and his stride seems unusually steady. It’s hard to tell from this distance, but I swear I can sense his stare on me. On the group. Watching. Waiting. Appraising. I mentally shake myself. It must be my anxiety talking, making me suspicious.

A flash from Rod’s steel brings me back, in time to see blood spray. Another creature down.

“The great thing about Droolers?” Rod glances at the rest of us. “They make quick work.”

Asher nods once, gaze locked on the next Drooler as it makes its way into striking distance. He ends it in a single hit, his blade sawing through sinew and bone with ease. Our weapons are made for decapitation. Specifically designed by our blacksmiths for precision and efficiency.

“I’m ready for it to be over.” And I’d really like my hands to stop trembling

There’s two opponents left. I can see a light at the end of this tunnel, where I am on the boat, safe in my bed.

The second-to-last Drooler is closing in, and we increase our speed. Jamie and Jesse weave us in between patches of disturbed dirt and odd-looking markers in the ground. My legs burn from exercise and my energy drains, but I try to maintain my concentration.

Val cracks her neck, primed to pounce at a moment’s notice, and I steal my resolve. I peer at the zombie at the rear, and the weird sense resurfaces.

He’s closer now. His gait is almost deliberate in its slowness. But what makes my blood run cold is his piercing, know-it-all stare. It’s the same one I try to avoid in the Observation Room.

I frown and glance at my teammates, curious if they are on the same wavelength. Val spies it and then looks at me, her gaze as confused as mine, and the bad feeling grows. It’s not only me who has these thoughts. I notice Rod’s shoulders tense as he shoots a look at Asher. I practically missed Asher’s imperceptible nod.

They make quick work of the Drooler closest to our position, leaving the straggler for last. His stare is calculating as his final counterpart drops. We continue our stride, figuring out our subsequent move. We all know this isn’t a Drooler.

His demeanor changes in an instant, and it moves faster. This creature is at a run-something never seen in the Rabids.

Asher curses under his breath, and a heavy silence descends upon the group as realization dawns.

The monster sprinting forward is a Raver.