The Undead and Unstoppable Apocalyptic Queen novel Chapter 670

Five distinct, deep impressions marred the fabric of Dave’s clothing, stark reminders of the danger they had just faced.

“Don’t worry, I’m right here with you. Nothing is going to happen,” she assured him, her voice steady and soothing. “Now, go ahead and take off your clothes.”

“Okay!” Dave replied, his tone resolute, as if he were trying to convince himself as much as her.

Around them, a small crowd gathered, their expressions a mix of concern and anticipation, each person straining to catch a glimpse of what would unfold next.

He slowly removed his helmet, the clanking sound echoing in the tense air, followed by the heavy jacket that had shielded him. Beneath it, a bulletproof vest lay crumpled, showing signs of impact with five noticeable dents etched into the shoulders. Underneath the vest, a thermal coat clung to him, along with yet another layer of protection.

As he peeled away each layer, the crowd held its breath, and finally, he revealed only five bruised claw marks on his skin. Thankfully, there was no broken skin or blood—a small miracle in the chaos they had just survived.

A collective sigh of relief swept through the group, a wave of tension dissipating as they realized the severity of the situation had been averted.

Theresa felt her shoulders relax, the tight knot of worry easing slightly. Thank goodness for Hugo’s foresight in upgrading their polymer combat suits multiple times; they were now far more resilient against the onslaught of zombie claws than they had been in the past.

If things had gone differently, she would have been forced to use the last of her zombie virus suppressant, a decision she was not willing to make lightly. Even though she could have racked up more points, using a precious resource like that now would have felt like a personal defeat.

With keen eyes, she examined Dave closely, ensuring there were no hidden injuries beneath the surface. Satisfied that he was merely bruised, she turned to the others. “Alright, everyone, let’s strip down and check each other for injuries.”

One by one, they complied, revealing that all were unscathed.

Finally, Theresa let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“Ms. Hall, what’s our next move?” Calvin inquired, his voice breaking the silence, a hint of urgency lacing his tone.

The group surrounding Clara seemed unusually tight-knit, their concern for her evident.

Harrance’s gaze remained fixed on Clara, his worry palpable as he noted the swelling on her face from the slap she had received.

Only Calvin had the courage to voice the question that hung in the air.

Theresa scoffed lightly, rolling her eyes at the group’s hesitance. “What do you think we can do? We need to find a way out of here.”

“But there’s only one path leading out!” someone interjected, frustration seeping into their voice.

Theresa shot them a look that conveyed her disbelief. It was precisely this kind of thinking that had landed them in their current predicament.

“Can’t we dig a path?” she challenged, her voice firm.

Her life had always revolved around a simple principle: whenever a road was blocked, she carved out a new one; whenever the path was broken, she built a bridge.

Nothing, not even the direst of circumstances, could deter her from pushing forward.

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