Kidnapping the target had been a cinch. Her security detail was one lightly armed man, her route to the heli was easily intercepted. All it took was a well-placed bullet and a knock to the head.

Hamed stole a glance at his rearview mirror. The target’s red duffel bag sat on the back seat like a glaring reminder of his crime. He strained his ears, trying to catch any snatches of a cry for help. The trunk of the car remained silent.

Satisfied, he turned his attention back to the smoothly paved road. Unlike Zone Kukuh, which he had helped to establish across the causeway in neighboring Malaysia, Zone 0 was incredibly well maintained. As expected of their Singapore counterparts, he begrudged. He had yet to see a crumbling building or decaying corpses lying on the side of the road in the safe zone. The zone laid to the west of the small island nation and was one of the last to fall to the zombies after the infection had begun in the east with a zombie passenger on an airplane. It made sense that most of the infrastructure was intact.

Zone 0 was eerily tranquil, reminiscent of the good old days a few years ago before most of the world fell to the zombie virus that ravaged more than 80% of the population, leaving the remnants of humanity to fend for themselves by erecting safe zones. But as the zombies grew more aggressive and more eager to search for new food sources, safe zones started crumbling. Only the heavily protected safe zones remained. Like Zone 0 which had a sturdy air-to-ground shield that electrocuted all zombies - and humans - that came into contact with it.

His thin lips pulled into a smirk. Zone Kukuh would soon have its own protective technology once he brought the target back with him. He just needed to get to the heli that would airlift him out of Singapore. The heli would pick him up outside Zone 0. They had a small window of time before the heli would be forced to leave. Landing in zombie territory was always a risk.

“Holland Zone is down.” A woman's soothing, mellow voice resounded from the array of speakers mounted atop the smart lamp posts. “Incoming fresh zombies expected in five minutes. We remind residents to keep their activity level down and be prepared for emergency evacuation.”

Leave it to the Singaporeans to maintain some semblance of structure and normality even in these announcements. He glanced at the thinwatch on his wrist. The fresh volley of zombies reduced their window of escape drastically. This was the worst possible scenario. Of all days the Holland Zone had to go down, it had to be today. Worry deepened the creases in his forehead. He needed to get out now.

Stepping on the accelerator, he sent the old, traditional rust bucket car speeding down the quiet roads. Most of the inhabitants were busy at work or minding their temporary apartments. Ahead, he could see the giant metal gates blocking one of two entrances into Zone 0. Behind the gate, the translucent plasma created by the field generators shimmered and hummed with electricity.

“Backup plan ready?” he muttered into the short-distance earpiece transmitter in his native Malay.

The response came with scratchy static. “Yes. Waiting on your signal.”

He wiped the sweat off his close-shaven head and sucked in a breath. This was the most dangerous part of the whole plan. The three guards at the entrance were carrying machine guns and one of them had a rare plasma gun tucked into his waistband. If a fight were to break out, he put his chances of survival at a meager two percent.

He brought the car to a halt in front of the gate. One of the guards approached with his machine gun held snugly in his arms. Hamed rolled his window down. He flashed a nervous smile at the young guard. “God be with you. How are you doing today?”

“Papers please.”

He reached for the small, squarish paper on the dashboard and handed it to the guard who appraised it with sharp eyes. Hamed held in a breath.

The guard handed back his paper. “How did your family visit go?”

“Good. They’re doing well with the new baby.”

Half-truth, half-lie of course. He had visited his informant who had scrapped up enough ammunition - or what they called baby - for him to smuggle back to Zone Kukuh.

“Not thinking of settling in Zone 0?”

“I don’t have the qualifications,” Hamed said sheepishly. 

Only the strong, the educated, or those with a useful trade were allowed full-time residence. Of course, he couldn’t tell the guard that his trade was coming in very handy right now.

The guard nodded to the back seat. “What’s in there?”

“Just the normal traveling kit.” Hamed tried to sound lighthearted despite the thundering of his heart in his chest. He prayed that the guard couldn’t hear his heartbeat or see the sweat beading on his forehead.

“Looks a bit too big for such a short visit to Zone 0.”

“Well, you can’t be too careful with zombies nowadays. Especially with such a long trip to and fro.”

“True. Are you carrying any supplies or rare materials out?”

“Nope.”

The guard’s brown eyes seemed to stare right through Hamed’s lie. Hamed gulped. His hand gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.

“Okay, be careful out there,” the guard said after a long pause. "Safe travels."

Hamed uttered a thanks that seemed overly enthusiastic to his ears. But when the guard motioned to his colleague to open the gate, he breathed a sigh of relief. As the metal doors slowly slid open, a muffled sound came from the trunk of his car. Hamed froze. Had the guard heard it too?

The guard swiveled around and stared at the back of Hamed’s car. “Open the trunk for me, please.”

“But there’s nothing in there,” Hamed protested.

The guard’s tone took on an edge. “Don’t make me say it twice.”

“I'm telling you it's a waste of your time.” Hamed gave a slow roll of his shoulders. “There's nothing but emergency equipment inside. But if you want to see that, fine.”

Heart pounding like a racehorse, Hamed pretended to bend down and fiddle with the car key. His lips barely moved as he muttered, “Backup plan is a go.”

A soft voice drifted down his earpiece. “Roger.”

He got out of the car, leaving the door wide open and the engine running. The guard followed behind him as he mentally counted down the seconds. His gaze drifted to the white boxy structure housing the field generator that created the plasma shield. His accomplice should be executing the plan right about-

An explosion rocked the ground below them as the white structure disintegrated into large chunks of rock and metal. Flames shot up into the sky. Debris rained down, pelting his car. Ducking to the ground, he scrambled to the side of the car as a large boulder slammed into the guard behind him, killing the young man in an instant. Streaks of blood spattered onto the car and Hamed’s side. The smell of ash, burnt metal, and blood weighed heavy in the air.

When the torrent of debris stopped, Hamed opened his eyes. His ears were still ringing but he had to move. He sprung to his feet. Bullets pinged off the car’s open door, sending him ducking for cover again. He cursed as he crouched down. The guards had responded way faster than he had anticipated. He lunged for the open door right as the window shattered under another wave of bullets. He jumped into the driver’s seat, pulling the door shut behind him.

He wheezed, his vision blurring in a haze of pain. Pressing a hand to his neck, he felt the sticky texture of blood. 

Shit. He had been hit. By a bullet or a glass shard, it didn’t matter.

The blood was oozing out like an unstoppable river. He gritted his teeth. There was no time to tend to his wound. The entrance was wide open, the air-to-ground shield behind gone. No sizzling plasma blocked his path. The backup power would kick in within seconds and he could say goodbye to leaving Zone 0 in one piece.

Ignoring the hail of bullets that smashed into his windshield, he floored the accelerator. The car kicked into motion and lurched forward. The engine roared, drowning out the rat-a-tat of the bullets as he zoomed past the guards and out onto the open road.

A large grin spread across his tanned face. He was out of Zone 0. Now all he needed to do was race to the heli.

His mind told him one thing but his body was not responding. His car was slowing down to a crawl. He couldn’t summon the energy to press the accelerator. It took all he had to even open his eyes. Blood flowed down his shirt but he couldn’t be bothered to stem the flow. What was he supposed to do again?

Get to the heli.

The target.

Zone Kukuh.

Strangely, it didn’t seem to matter anymore. The darkness was so inviting. It was so much easier to just let go of it all. His eyes blurred. The sound of his daughter’s giggles filled his ears. He smiled. His head slumped against the wheel. Papa is back.