Jane took it, her eyes distant. "This is a Myer drive. Confidential. Level Five." She looked from the drive to the overturned Navigator. "What the hell was it doing here?"
"Save it for later," Van said, starting the engine. "Hurley first."
Hurley was awake. As the Express rumbled past the ruined gas station, its engine was a dinner bell.
Doors flew open. Windows shattered. Dozens of rotters poured into the street, a shambling wall of flesh between them and the town's center.
"Too many," Jane breathed, chambering a round in the Remington.
Van threw the truck into reverse, backing away fast, the horde giving chase. His eyes darted to the gas station, then to the keys in the ignition. Still short on upgrade XP.
"The van," he snapped. "Your company van. Does it run?"
"Yes, but—"
"Cover me!"
He was out the door before she could protest, sprinting for the foul-smelling Myer Materials minivan.
He wrenched the door open, dispatched two rotten things inside with brutal efficiency, and hauled their remains out. The engine sputtered to life.
He locked eyes with Jane in the Express, gave her a sharp nod, then aimed the van at the charging horde. He drove it like a missile.
CRUNCH-THUD-THUD.
The minivan became a weapon of mass blunt-force trauma. Rotters cartwheeled over the hood, collapsed under its wheels.
Van kept his foot down until the van was a steaming, blood-smeared wreck, its front end caved in. Only then did he abandon it and sprint back to the Express.
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The moment his door clicked shut, the system prompt he'd been waiting for appeared.
[ VEHICLE UPGRADE AVAILABLE: LV 3 (5/90) ]
[ SELECT UPGRADE: ]
1. VEHICLE SIZE +20%
2. REPAIR & REINFORCE ARMOR
3. FUEL CAPACITY +100%
Van weighed his options. Size meant more cargo, but also a bigger target. Fuel was survival. But armor... armor was life right now.
As he deliberated, Jane slipped out of the passenger seat. "What are you doing?" he hissed.
She ignored him, darted to the ruined minivan, and a moment later scrambled back with a black backpack clutched to her chest.
"I'm sorry," she said, breathless. She unzipped it and pulled out a small, black revolver. "Ruger LCR. .38 Special. My fifteenth birthday present from my father."
She popped the cylinder, showing five empty chambers, then pulled out a box of ammo. "Thirty rounds left." She held it out to him.
Van took it. The checkered grip felt secure. On automatic pilot from a dozen movies, he gave his wrist a flick to snap the cylinder shut.
Jane's hand stopped his wrist, not rough but firm. "Hold up." Her voice was low, professional. "Don't do that. It stresses the crane. Just use your thumb."
She popped the cylinder back out smoothly with her own thumb to demonstrate. "Treat it right, and it won't jam when you need it."
Van gave a short nod, absorbing the lesson. A tool, not a toy. He loaded five cartridges carefully, his thumb pressing the cylinder home.
CLICK.
She watched, then said, "Keep it. You're out of nine-mil. I have the rifle." My father's gun should protect you now, her eyes seemed to say.
Van slid the loaded Ruger into the map pocket. Its presence was a cold comfort. He met her gaze. "Jane. I need to show you something."
"Show me what?" she asked, skepticism in her tone.
The truck shivered.
Tendrils of harsh blue light lanced across its frame. Jane flinched as, right beside her, the mangled side mirror dissolved and reformed, pristine.
The cracks running through her window sealed themselves, leaving behind only thick, clear plastic.
Then the light consumed the entire vehicle in a silent, violent pulse of energy. Metal groaned and reshaped with a series of final, heavy clunks.
When the glow faded, the battered white Express was gone. In its place sat a steel-grey behemoth.
Reinforced carbon-grey plating, welded and brutal, armored the hood, sides, and doors. The windshield and windows were now narrow, deep-set slits of heavy, tinted polycarbonate.
It was no longer just a delivery truck. It was a reinforced steel shell on wheels, a blunt instrument built for impact.
Jane stared, processing the impossibility. She looked from the armored brute surrounding them to Van's impassive face.
"How?" was all she could whisper.
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[Author's Note]
Apologies everyone, I accidentally missed uploading Chapter 6 earlier! This is Chapter 6. Thanks for bearing with me on launch day, and I hope you enjoy the Upgrade!!