The Undead and Unstoppable Apocalyptic Queen novel Chapter 592

Chapter 592 Flames Across the Station

A rasping wheeze rattled through the air.

The zombie’s dull eyes suddenly flared with a terrifying light.

It dragged the hollow stumps of its chewed–clean leg bones up the stairwell, squirming like a grotesque maggot, inching its way upward floor by floor in a frenzy.

A heavy pounding echoed–doors rattling under desperate fists.

Bang Bang Bang.

The louder it grew, the more doors in the building began to shake, as if the entire place had come alive with the dead.

Steel flashed.

With one swift strike, Theresa’s blade ended the creature’s crawl.

The thunder of fists still roared from every corridor, but she was already racing down the stairs. Before any door gave way, she burst out of the building.

Outside, the street stretched wide and desolate.

Wrecked cars sat abandoned under a thick blanket of dust, scattered like bones across the asphalt. A few zombies wandered aimlessly among them.

Ahead stood a bus stop. A city bus sat there, its doors hanging open.

Inside, there were no passengers–only the driver, now undead, trapped in the cab. It flailed wildly, letting out guttural cries that scraped like rusted metal.

Theresa stepped closer, and the bound driver grew frantic.

It thrashed its arms and neck, ramming its skull again and again against the farebox.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Each blow landed with brutal force, and as Theresa drew closer, the creature smashed its own skull into the farebox until its face was nothing but pulp. The violent impacts burst its bulging eyes free from their sockets.

The pair of gelatinous orbs dangled grotesquely against the metal. One more sickening crack, and its shattered cheekbone crushed them.

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Chapter 592 Flames Across the Station

The gray–white eyeballs, veined with red, smeared across the slot. Their slick cores slid downward with a wet slurp, slipping neatly into the narrow opening.

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Finished

The mechanism inside clicked to life, swallowing the ruined globes as though they were coins. A dull clatter followed as they dropped into the pile of change within.

The eyeless husk still thrashed in its cage, shrieking toward the open air with feral excitement.

It longed to leap out, to rip apart the living prey before it, to stuff the fresh, warm flesh into its ravenous gut.

A guttural wail tore from its throat, sharp and piercing, carrying its hunger into the street.

Theresa swept her gaze over the empty bus, cold and calculating. Then, while the nearby stragglers were still staggering her way, she kicked open the gas tank.

She pulled out a timer, rigging it with a simple lever ignition. The moment the horde closed in, she seized Quentin’s hand and pulled him into a sprint toward the bus station about five hundred yards ahead.

Behind them came a chorus of feral howls–low, guttural snarls rolling over the street like thunder.

By the time the dead reached where she had stood moments before, Theresa had already vanished down the road.

At the entrance of the bus station, she stopped and peered inside.

The building was crammed wall to wall with zombies, packed so densely their movements looked like a single seething mass.

“Quentin,” she said firmly, “open every door.”

Without a word, Quentin obeyed, rushing forward and unbolting one heavy door after another.

He carried the blood of the half–dead, and because of it, the horde didn’t even notice him.

When Quentin opened each door, the creatures only turned their clouded eyes toward the sound. They shoved and pressed against one another, but once they realized there was no scent of food, the frenzy drained away. Their stares dulled again, and they drifted aimlessly through

the hall.

When the last door of the ground floor had been thrown wide, a deafening blast split the air.

The railway station they had just left erupted in fire. Flames shot skyward, rolling thunder across the city. For miles in every direction, the undead stirred at once, roused by the shockwave.

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Chapter 592 Flames Across the Station

Finished

Inside the station, the packed masses let out a collective shriek, then surged like a stampede, pouring toward the explosion as if drawn by some terrible beacon.

Theresa was crouched on top of a streetlight, her body balanced like a predator.

A handful of stragglers clustered below, clawing uselessly at the metal pole. But the majority had already broken into a mad sprint toward the blaze, their howls fading with the distance.

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