Zombie Apocalypse: Motorcycle Escape

Zombies filled the streets.
They poured out of shattered buildings, climbed over abandoned cars, and dragged their bodies toward any sound that still moved. The city was already lost.

A motorcycle engine roared through the noise.

The female rider burst out from a side street, lean and fast, hair pulled tight under her helmet, eyes locked forward. She rode low and aggressive, weaving through wreckage as gray hands reached for her wheels. The dead chased without fear, without thought, driven only by hunger.

She accelerated down the main road.
Zombies flooded in from both sides. There was no clear exit.

At the last intersection before the bridge, she stood on the pegs, reached back, and pulled a small bomb from her pack. One clean motion. No hesitation. She threw it into the center of the swarm.

The explosion ripped the street open. Fire, dust, and bodies filled the air. The blast cleared a narrow path just wide enough.

She hit the throttle.

The motorcycle shot through the flames as debris crashed behind her. The zombies burned, fell, or disappeared into smoke. She didn’t slow, didn’t look back.

Behind her was a dead city.
Ahead was empty road.

She rode on.