| |
The drive back to Cane Bay was suffocatingly quiet. Colt sat in the passenger seat, eyes fixed on the passing trees, but I could tell his mind was miles away. In the back, Daryl’s shotgun lay across his lap, his knuckles white as he gripped the barrel, tension rippling through him. The bodies in the school gym had shaken us all, but Daryl looked like he was barely holding it together.
“We’re running out of places,” Daryl said at last, his voice strained. “That school was supposed to be our best shot.”
I stayed quiet for a moment. He wasn’t wrong, but I couldn’t let that hopelessness take hold. Not now. Not with Annie, Nash, and the others depending on us to keep it together.
“I know,” I said eventually, tightening my grip on the wheel. “We’ll figure something out. There’s gotta be another place.”
Colt’s voice was sharp, bitter. “Like where? Every spot we’ve checked is crawling with infected or... something worse.”
I glanced at him, catching the frustration in his eyes. I couldn’t blame him. We’d been moving from one failed plan to the next, and the weight of it was starting to take its toll. I had to admit, a part of me was starting to feel it too. But I couldn’t show that—not to them.
“We’ll check some of the smaller neighborhoods next,” I said. “Maybe one of them’s still intact. Fewer people means fewer infected.”
“Maybe,” Colt replied, though I could hear the doubt in his voice.
The rest of the drive was heavy with silence, the tension choking the air in the cab. When we finally reached the house, I cut the engine and just sat there, staring at the front door. From the outside, it looked peaceful, normal even. But nothing inside was the same anymore.
Annie was waiting for us at the door, her face lighting up with relief when she saw we were okay. Nash was right behind her, hovering like a shadow. As we stepped inside, I could feel the weight of their expectation—waiting for good news, for some kind of reassurance that things were going to get better.
“We checked the school,” I said, my voice flat. “It’s not going to work. Too many bodies. It’s not safe.”
Annie’s face fell, but she didn’t say anything. I could see the exhaustion in her eyes, the same exhaustion we were all feeling. Nash looked up at me, his face pale and drawn. He didn’t ask any questions. He didn’t have to.
“What now?” Annie finally asked, her voice soft.
I glanced at Colt and Daryl. We hadn’t come up with any solid plans on the drive back, but we didn’t have the luxury of time to sit around and think.
“We’ll check the smaller developments,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “There’s gotta be one that’s still secure.”
“And if there isn’t?” Nash asked quietly, his voice barely a whisper.
I hesitated for a moment, but I didn’t want to lie to him. “Then we stay here and make this work.”
Annie nodded slowly, but I could see the worry in her eyes. The supplies we’d gathered wouldn’t last forever, and we all knew it. The infected were getting more aggressive, and it was only a matter of time before they started pushing into the less-populated areas like ours. We had to be ready for that, too.
That evening, the group gathered in the living room to discuss what little options we had left. It was a small group now—just us, Daryl, and a few other families who hadn’t abandoned Cane Bay yet. Everyone was on edge, tired and hungry, but no one was ready to give up.
“We need to reinforce the perimeter,” I said, looking around at the others. “Barricade the windows, set up traps, anything to slow them down if they get in.”
“You think they’re coming this far?” one of the men, Todd, asked, his voice shaky.
“They’re coming,” Daryl cut in, his voice grim. “It’s just a matter of time.”
The room fell silent. We’d all seen it by now—neighborhoods overrun in a matter of days, cities collapsing under the sheer numbers of the infected. The government hadn’t been able to stop it, the military was scattered and ineffective. We were on our own.
“We’ll take turns on watch,” I continued. “Two people at a time, rotating every few hours. If you see anything—anything—don’t hesitate. Sound the alarm. We don’t have the luxury of waiting.”
The group nodded, though I could see the fear in their eyes. They weren’t soldiers, and I didn’t expect them to be. But we didn’t have a choice anymore.
As the meeting broke up, I pulled Annie aside. She’d been quiet the whole time, and I knew something was weighing on her.
“You okay?” I asked softly, brushing a hand through her hair.
She smiled faintly but shook her head. “I’m scared, Frank. For the boys. For us. I don’t know how much longer we can keep this up.”
“I know,” I admitted, pulling her into my arms. “But we have to keep going. One day at a time.”
She rested her head on my shoulder, and for a moment, we just stood there, holding on to each other like it was the only thing keeping us grounded.
“We’ll get through this,” I whispered, though I wasn’t entirely sure if I was trying to convince her or myself.
The next few days passed in a blur of preparation. We reinforced the windows with whatever we could find—wooden planks, metal scraps, even old furniture. Colt and Daryl worked tirelessly to set up makeshift barriers around the house, piling up debris in the yard to create obstacles that might slow the infected down.
Todd and the others did their part too, taking turns on watch and helping with the fortifications. We were building something that could hold—at least for a little while.
But the unease never left. Every time I stepped outside to check the perimeter, I felt it—that creeping sense of something coming, something inevitable. The infected were out there, waiting. It was only a matter of time.
One afternoon, as I sat by the window on watch, I heard it. Faint at first, but unmistakable. The low moan of the infected. I froze, listening. The sound was coming from the woods behind the house, growing louder.
I grabbed the radio and clicked it on. “Colt, Daryl. Get ready. We’ve got movement.”
Seconds later, Colt was by my side, rifle in hand. His eyes were wide, but there was no fear in them now. Just determination.
Daryl came in from the back, his shotgun loaded and ready. “Where are they?”
I pointed toward the woods. “There. They’re close.”
We stepped out onto the porch, weapons at the ready. It was still, the air thick with humidity, but the groans were growing louder now. I could see shapes moving between the trees, stumbling and staggering toward the house.
“Everyone inside!” I shouted over my shoulder. “Get ready!”
Colt and Daryl took up positions beside me as the first infected broke through the tree line, their twisted faces illuminated by the porch light. There were more of them than I’d expected, at least a dozen, maybe more.
“Here we go,” I muttered, raising my rifle and taking aim.
The first shot rang out, splitting the night, and the fight for Cane Bay had begun.