"Sarah, when I put you down, you go find Brian and hide with him!"
The soldier's execution of the survivor had sent a chill down Joel's spine. He wasn't about to leave his daughter's life—or anyone else in the hands of a soldier. Not after what he had just seen.
"Okay," Sarah replied, her voice barely above a whisper. She had been through so much already, and her energy was nearly spent. But she knew holding onto her dad was only slowing him down, so she nodded in agreement.
"Damn... did anyone ask me?" Brian muttered under his breath, watching the father-daughter interaction. But when Joel set Sarah down, Brian stepped forward and gently pulled her over. Despite the pain from her injured leg, Sarah gritted her teeth and didn't make a sound.
"Here, take the gun. I'll hide Sarah in the bushes over there," Brian said, helping Sarah lean against the rock. He hesitated for a moment, then moved behind Joel, using him as cover to slip his handgun into Joel's back pocket.
"Got it," Joel replied, feeling the weight of the gun in his pocket. He was relieved to have the extra firepower. Then he heard Brian say something that made him pause:
"My watch has a timer. I'll set it for three minutes and throw it into the grass on the soldier's right. If he goes to check it out... it should distract him."
Joel was quiet for a moment, realizing that Brian had thought this through. He had underestimated the kid.
"Okay..." Joel started to ask why, but when he turned his head, Brian and Sarah had already disappeared behind the rocks.
Meanwhile, the soldier on the hill was also feeling uneasy. His job was to eliminate any threats in the area, but he hadn't been given any specific orders about these civilians. He had no choice but to radio for instructions:
"Found a few civilians on the perimeter. Requesting orders."
After a brief pause, a cold, detached voice came through the radio:
"Eliminate anyone on sight."
The soldier was taken aback. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. It was against everything he had been taught.
"But sir, there are children here..."
"Follow the order."
"But—"
"Enough. You just need to obey."
The soldier wanted to argue more, but the voice on the radio grew even colder. He reluctantly replied, "Yes, sir."
"Sorry," he muttered to himself, lifting his rifle to take out the men and children across from him.
But as he raised his assault rifle, he realized that one of the men's daughters had vanished, and the boy standing beside them was nowhere to be seen. His attention had been mostly on the radio and Tommy, who was holding a gun. He hadn't noticed what had happened on the other side.
"Damn it, where did those kids go?" the soldier demanded, turning his attention to the two men in front of him.
Joel and Tommy had heard everything over the radio. They didn't know the exact orders given, but they could guess. They weren't about to say anything.
Joel silently counted down the seconds in his head, pointing to the space behind the rock where the kids had hidden.
"They're just resting over there," Joel said carefully.
"Bring them out."
"But sir, my daughter's leg—"
"I said, bring them out!"
Seeing the soldier raise his rifle, Joel's heart raced. Sweat trickled down his forehead.
"Ding!" Just then, a noise came from the grass on the right. The soldier instinctively fired a burst of bullets in that direction.
But after a few shots, he realized something was wrong. He quickly shifted his aim back to the men, ready to fire.
Joel wasn't about to let that happen. He had been waiting for this chance. His survival instincts kicked in, and he drew the gun from his pocket, aiming for the soldier's head. But in his haste, the bullet hit the soldier's chest instead.
"Ah!" The soldier fell backward, his finger involuntarily squeezing the trigger. The rifle fired into the air, the sound echoing around them.
Tommy, who had been waiting for the right moment, lunged forward, grabbed the gun from the ground, and fired a precise shot into the soldier's head before he hit the ground.
"Phew..." Both brothers let out a sigh of relief, but their moment of calm was short-lived. Suddenly, a chorus of growls and footsteps erupted from behind them.
They spun around to see a sea of infected pouring toward them.
"Damn it, run!" Tommy shouted, grabbing Joel's arm. He knew the infected had been drawn by the gunfire.
"Sarah's still back there!" Joel said, turning to go back for them.
"We can't go back now. Sarah's leg is injured. You won't be able to run fast enough with her. We need to draw these monsters away. They'll be safer that way," Tommy argued, trying to keep Joel from making a fatal mistake.
"But—" Joel hesitated, knowing Tommy was right. It was the best option they had. He shouted toward the bushes on the right, "Brian, we're going to draw the infected away. Take Sarah to the highway. We'll meet you at the bridge!"
Without waiting for a response, Joel and Tommy sprinted down the hill to the left, where the rough terrain would slow the infected down.
In the Dense Bushes Nearby
Brian covered Sarah's mouth with his hand to keep her silent. Sarah understood the danger and closed her eyes, not wanting to see what was happening outside. As the infected rushed past them, their hearts pounded fiercely. Any sound could have been their last.
After a few minutes, the footsteps faded into the distance, and silence returned. Brian finally let out a breath and released Sarah's mouth.
"Come on, get on my back. We need to get out of here," Brian whispered, knowing that while the infected were temporarily distracted, they couldn't stay.
"What about Dad and Uncle Tommy?" Sarah asked, her voice trembling with worry. She knew her father and uncle had risked their lives to protect her.
"Don't worry, they'll be fine. Let's get to the bridge first," Brian reassured her, squatting down so she could climb onto his back. It was a struggle; Sarah weighed around 88 pounds, and Brian was only 13. But he managed, determined to keep going.
Climbing up the slope, Brian picked up the soldier's assault rifle and slung it over his shoulder. He also took a handgun, several magazines, and the radio from the soldier's belt. He knew he might need them.
They moved slowly, choosing the roughest, most overgrown paths to avoid other soldiers or the infected. The dense foliage scratched at Brian's arms, and sweat streamed down his face. He had to stop every so often to catch his breath.
During one of these breaks, Brian checked Sarah's leg. He had been too busy earlier to get a good look. He was relieved to see that the injury wasn't as bad as he had feared. The blood had come from a minor scrape, but her ankle was dislocated, which explained the pain and inability to walk.
"Forget it, let's just get to the bridge," Brian said, getting back on his feet. Without a watch, time seemed to drag on. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they reached the top of a slope and saw the highway's guardrail in the distance.
"Finally, we're almost there," Brian muttered, feeling a wave of relief. But Sarah's heart was still heavy with worry for her father and uncle.
Just as they were about to reach the highway, the radio on Brian's belt crackled to life. A voice came through, saying, "Checkpoint Six, this is base. We have a large group of infected heading toward the bridge. If you can't hold them off, evacuate immediately. Over."
Brian's face contorted in frustration. He threw his head back and shouted in disbelief:
"This has got to be kidding me!"