The Walking Dead: reborn as Carl

"Shit!"

A mouthful of thick phlegm was spat on a corpse.

"Huh~"

Moore's breathing was rapid, like a bellows that was overwhelmed and could stop working completely at any time.

"It's time to quit smoking, damn it. If it were ten years ago, I wouldn't even have taken a breath to deal with all of you bastards."

He shook his head, handed the dagger in his right hand to his left hand, and took out a cigarette case. The cigarette case had been deformed a little because of the excessive movement just now.

He picked out the best cigarette, lit it, held it in his mouth, and threw the half-remaining box of cigarettes behind him.

The cigarette box happened to fall on a corpse, and with the kinetic energy that had not yet been completely exhausted, it rolled from the corpse to the ground and fell into a pool of blood.

The black blood belonged to the zombies. Dozens of corpses were scattered everywhere, and the blood was flowing out and gathering in the low-lying area, which was exactly where the cigarette box fell.

Moore looked back and saw that the cigarette box was soaked with blood. He felt a little distressed and regretful.

He chuckled twice, turned around and continued walking in the direction where the gunshots came from.

All that was left was a corpse lying quietly on the ground, and a cigarette box soaked in blood.

"This is what happens when you stand in the way of your uncle More."

Moore didn't walk fast, not because he was not in a hurry, but because he was exhausted and was almost reaching his limit.

Two more zombies slowly wandered out from a building nearby. They were walking at a leisurely pace, but when they found that it was More, they suddenly became excited, quickened their pace, and ran towards More, roaring.

"Damn it, why can't Mr. Moore just be quiet for a while?"

Mor sighed lightly and threw the two daggers in his hands out. Even though Mor's hands were a little weak now, it was impossible for him to miss at this distance.

The two daggers were inserted into the brain of each zombie. At the same time, both zombies fell to the ground powerlessly.

More stepped forward, pulled out the dagger, rubbed it on the clothes of the corpse, then put the dagger back into the holster at his waist and pulled out the Browning from behind his waist.

This location is not far away.

At this moment, a rustling sound came from the walkie-talkie attached to the belt.

Moore did not hesitate, picked it up quickly, and shouted hurriedly, "Brother? Brother?"

"Moir, it's me." It was still Glenn's voice.

"Where's Daryl? Damn it, what the hell is going on over there?"

"Darryl is fine. We met a group of people. They were the ones who opened fire. They left when they saw the zombies rioting, but we are trapped in this building now."

"Damn it, you just let them go like that? Is your position safe? How long can you hold out?"

"It's hard to say. We are on the rooftop now. There are zombies everywhere below. It's just two streets behind the clothing store. Moore, we need your help."

"Damn it, I get it. Keep in touch. Don't disappear again, or I swear I'll press your face into the prison's septic tank."

"I don't want to either. We were just exchanging fire and there were more people on the other side than us. I didn't have time to talk to you." Glenn smiled helplessly.

"Wait."

Moore put the walkie-talkie back on his belt and looked around. There were no zombies. It seemed that they had really been attracted there.

Moore quickened his pace a little, approached the building on the side of the street, and walked towards the back street.

Nearly ten minutes later, Moore stopped at the corner of a street. About a hundred meters ahead, hundreds or even thousands of zombies gathered around a small building.

"Damn it, there are so many of them. Don't let Mr. Moore catch the bastard who fired the shot."

After looking carefully for a few minutes, although I didn't see Daryl and the others directly, I was sure that Daryl and the others were in that building.

Without further delay, Moore turned around and quickened his pace. After such a long pause, Moore's physical strength had recovered a lot.

I jogged all the way, killing some zombies on the way, and finally arrived at the place where I parked when entering the town.

A motorcycle and a pickup truck. Moore breathed a sigh of relief. Damn, it was a good thing those bastards didn't leave from this side.

As for the missing pickup truck, Andrew and Axel should have taken Carl back first.

Moore had no objection to this. It was better to take Carl back. It was hard to say whether those bastards who attacked Daryl and the others had left or not, and there were also the rioting zombies.

It's very dangerous here.

He returned to his pickup truck, took out a few long breaths, took out a bottle of water, took a big gulp, and then put his HK416 on the passenger seat and prepared the magazine.

He took out a pack of unopened cigarettes, lit it, held it in his mouth, started the car, and turned around.

"Damn it, you still have to rely on me, Master Moore, at the critical moment."

The car started and drove directly into the town. Not long after entering, many scattered zombies on both sides of the street rushed towards the car.

Moore sped up the car, trying his best not to hit the zombies directly with the front of the car, but to knock them down with the side of the car.

The speed of the car was much faster than walking. It took about ten minutes to reach the street. Moore picked up the walkie-talkie.

"Glenn, Glenn!"

"I'm here, Mor, what's up."

"How's it going over there?" Moore threw away his cigarette butt and lit another one.

"The zombies can't get up for now, but it's not a solution to keep going like this. I think the door will be broken through by the zombies sooner or later." Glenn spoke a little quickly.

"I will lead the zombies away in a moment, but it's impossible for there to be no zombies left. You have to find a good time. When you see there are fewer zombies, come out quickly. Wait for me at the place where we came from."

At this moment, Moore also became serious for a rare time.

"Leave them behind? Mor, how do you lead them behind?"

"You don't have to worry about that. Just keep in touch. If I'm lucky, I can come pick you up directly."

"Okay, Mor, be careful."

"Oh, Master Moore is very lucky."

He threw the walkie-talkie to the passenger seat, started the car that had just stopped, and rushed directly into the street ahead that was full of zombies.

He rushed into the street, but instead of rushing directly into the zombie group in search of death, he immediately turned around. However, even so, he attracted the attention of several nearby zombies.

They roared and approached the car, but Moore's target was not these ones. He threw the cigarette butt out of the car window, turned on the car music and turned the volume to the maximum.

"As long as you haven't given up

After each of them surrendered

..."

"Shit!" The sudden deafening sound scared even Moore himself, but then he lit another cigarette and started laughing wildly.

Looking back, I saw that the sound did attract quite a few zombies, but it was far from enough.

The zombies in front are only a few dozen meters away from the pickup truck, and there are still dense zombies on the small building side. If this continues, the zombies in front will arrive before the zombies behind are attracted.

Moore raised his eyebrows slightly, picked up the HK416 and two spare magazines and got out of the car. He stood by the door and looked at the many zombies that were attracted. He was not afraid at all, but laughed instead.

"Come on, damn it, and have a taste of Mr. Moore's bullets."

"Da da da!..."

Moore pulled the trigger and the HK416 in his hand fired wildly, and the zombies in front fell one after another.

The sound of gunfire was not obvious amid the deafening music. On the contrary, the music, which happened to be reaching its climax at that moment, overwhelmed the sound of gunfire.

"You are standing on the edge of a cliff, looking up

Because you were born this way

A heart that beats like a rock

You have to be cool

To find a place in this world

..."

After using up two spare magazines, dozens of zombies in front lay powerlessly on the ground, and the zombies behind were completely attracted.

Moore threw the rifle back into the car and threw the cigarette butt at the corpses.

"Fuck you, just follow Mr. Moore's ass and eat dust."

Moore got in the car and lit another cigarette. He was not in a hurry and swayed his body to the beat of the music until he saw in the rearview mirror that the first zombie had grabbed the rear of the pickup truck.

Moore started the car, but not very fast, deliberately leaving the zombies hanging. Of course, such harsh music also attracted a lot of zombies from other directions.

Moore drove the car with one hand and used the other hand to shoot the zombies on both sides of the pickup truck one by one with a pistol.

As he got further away from the street, Moore's car speed gradually increased, but the music did not subside in the slightest.

"You're standing on the edge and looking up

Because you were born this way

The beating heart of rock

You have to be ruthless

To survive in this world

You were born this way

Live ruthlessly

You have to be ruthless

You were born this way

..."

Behind the music, there was a dense group of zombies, as dark as a torrent, but they could only chase after the music in vain.

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