The Last Supply Run

[ Zombie Apocalypse - General Store ]

The Last Supply Run

The van screeched to a stop, its tires skidding over the curb, leaving dark streaks on the pavement. The front bumper was smeared with fresh blood, bits of torn fabric caught in the grille. Inside, Logan gripped the wheel, his knuckles white. His breathing was ragged, his heart hammering louder than the moans growing in the distance.

The general store loomed ahead, its rusted sign barely visible in the dim light. Barricades surrounded the entrance—signs of a last stand, now abandoned. The windows were grimy, shattered in places, but the shelves inside still held supplies.

Logan turned to the passenger seat. Ethan was slumped over, blood pooling beneath him. The bite on his arm was deep, his skin pale.

“Stay with me, man. We just need to get inside,” Logan muttered, grabbing his crowbar.

A low gurgling sound made him snap his head up. Shadows shifted between the trees at the parking lot’s edge. They had followed him.

With a grunt, he shoved the van door open and sprinted toward the store. His boots splashed through a puddle of congealed blood near the entrance—someone had died here, recently. He vaulted over the barricade, smashing a loose board aside. The store was dark, eerily silent.

Shelves were overturned, shopping carts abandoned mid-aisle. Logan moved quickly, grabbing canned food, bottled water, and a half-empty first-aid kit. Then he heard it—something inside. A slow, dragging step.

He wasn’t alone.

A shape emerged from behind the counter. Sunken eyes locked onto him, its mouth twitching. It wore a store uniform, now soaked in dried blood.

Logan tightened his grip on the crowbar.

The last supply run wasn’t over yet.