“Sarah, I’m putting you down.
Go find Brian and hide with him.” The soldier’s cold execution of the survivor had shaken Joel to his core.
He wasn’t about to leave their fate in the hands of some trigger-happy grunt, not with his daughter in the mix.
Sarah nodded weakly.
She’d been through too much already, her spirit battered.
But she understood.
Her father couldn’t carry her and fight.
She’d only slow him down.
Great…
did anyone bother asking me?
Brian watched the father-daughter exchange with silent irritation.
But when Joel lowered Sarah to the ground, Brian still reached out and pulled her behind the rocks.
Her injured leg bumped against the stone, and though pain flashed across her face, she didn’t make a sound.
Brian leaned close to Joel’s back, using his body as cover.
“Here.
Take my gun.” He slipped the pistol into Joel’s back pocket.
Joel felt the weight and breathed a little easier.
Then Brian added, “My watch has a timer.
It’s set for three minutes.
I’m going to toss it into the grass on the soldier’s right.
If he tries anything, it should buy us a second.” Joel went silent.
The boy had thought of everything.
He’d underestimated him.
He started to turn, to ask Brian why he was going to such lengths.
But when he glanced back, the two kids were already gone, vanished behind the rocky outcrop.
Up on the ridge, the soldier was weighing his options.
His orders were to clear the area of threats, nothing more.
He clicked on his radio.
“Perimeter check.
I’ve encountered several civilians.
Requesting instructions.” A moment of static.
Then a cold male voice crackled through.
“Neutralize all civilians.
No exceptions.” The soldier blinked.
This wasn’t right.
“But sir, there are children here…” “Follow your orders.” “Sir, I can’t just…” “That’s enough, soldier.
You follow orders.
That’s all you do.” The soldier swallowed his protest.
His voice came out flat.
“Yes, sir.” I’m sorry.
He raised his rifle, ready to give the men and the kids a quick death.
But when he looked down the sight, one of the men was no longer holding a child.
The other boy was nowhere to be seen.
His focus had been split between his radio and the armed man in front of him.
He’d missed everything happening on the other side.
“Where the hell are those kids?” The soldier’s voice turned sharp, demanding.
He glared at the two men before him.
Joel and Tommy had heard every word of his radio exchange.
They didn’t know the exact order, but the soldier’s reaction told them everything.
They stayed silent.
Joel counted the seconds in his head.
He pointed toward the empty rocks behind him, speaking carefully.
“They were tired.
I told them to rest back there…” “Bring them out.” “But sir, my daughter’s leg…” “I said, bring them out!” The soldier’s rifle came up.
Joel’s heart hammered.
Sweat dripped down his forehead.
BEEP!
A sudden noise from the grass on the right.
The soldier spun, finger tightening on the trigger.
He hosed the bushes with automatic fire.
Then he realized.
A trick.
He swung his rifle back toward the men.
But Joel was already moving.
The pistol was in his hand.
He fired at the soldier’s head.
The shot went wide.
It caught the soldier in the chest instead.
“AGH!” The soldier staggered backward, his finger clamped down on the trigger.
Rounds sprayed wildly into the sky as he fell.
Tommy dove for his own pistol on the ground.
He fired before the soldier hit the dirt.
A clean shot to the skull.
Silence.
The brothers exhaled.
Then they heard it.
A wall of snarls and footsteps behind them.
They turned.
The infected were everywhere.
A tidal wave of them, pouring through the streets, drawn by the gunfire.
“Run!
Now!” Tommy grabbed Joel’s arm and yanked him forward.
“Sarah’s still back there!” Joel spun, searching.
“We can’t go back for her!
You can’t carry her and outrun this!” Tommy pulled harder.
“The only way they stay safe is if we lead these things away!” Joel’s jaw clenched.
Tommy was right.
He hated it, but he was right.
He turned toward the bushes where the kids had hidden and shouted at the top of his lungs.
“Brian!
We’re drawing them off!
Get Sarah to the highway!
We’ll meet at the bridge!” Then he ran.
No more hesitation.
He and Tommy sprinted down the slope to the left, where the terrain was rougher, slower.
It would buy time.
Not far away, in a thick patch of brush, Brian had his hand clamped over Sarah’s mouth.
Sarah squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to look at the nightmare passing by.
The infected rushed past their hiding spot.
Close.
So close.
Every breath felt like a thunderclap.
Every heartbeat a drum.
Minutes passed.
The footsteps faded.
Quiet returned.
Brian finally exhaled, pulling his hand away.
“Get on my back.
We’re leaving.” “But my dad and Uncle Tommy…” “They’ll be okay.
They know what they’re doing.
We need to get to the bridge.” Brian crouched, and Sarah climbed onto his back.
She weighed maybe eighty pounds.
He weighed barely more.
This wasn’t going to be easy.
He struggled up the slope and spotted the dead soldier’s assault rifle.
He slung it over his shoulder.
He didn’t know how to use it, but it was better than nothing.
Then he stripped the soldier’s belt.
A pistol, extra mags, and a radio.
He took it all.
They set off toward the bridge.
Brian avoided open ground, sticking to rough terrain and thick trees.
It slowed them down, but it kept them out of sight.
Branches scratched his arms.
Sweat poured down his face.
Every few hundred yards, he had to stop and rest.
During one break, he checked Sarah’s leg.
He’d been too busy running to look at it properly.
He rolled up her pant leg.
It wasn’t as bad as he’d feared.
The bloodstain was from scraped skin.
What was really keeping her off her feet was a dislocated knee.
Great.
No time to fix that now.
“Let’s keep moving.
We’ll figure it out later.” Without his watch, time blurred.
But after what felt like hours, they crested a ridge and saw it.
The highway.
The guardrails.
The bridge.
“Oh, thank God.
Finally.” Brian almost wept.
He’d never been so relieved in his life.
“Dad…” Sarah was looking at the bridge too.
Hoping.
Then the radio on Brian’s belt crackled.
Static.
A voice.
“Checkpoint Six.
Large group of infected advancing toward the bridge.
If you cannot hold, withdraw immediately.
Over.” Brian stared at the radio.
Then at the sky.
Then at the bridge.
He threw his head back and screamed at the heavens.
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!”