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"This radio signal… it's the best proof that there's still life out there," Alice said, her voice steady but carrying that faint edge of belief that no one else dared to show.
Inside one of the armored vehicles, the hum of the engine blended with the endless whisper of desert wind scraping across metal. The air was heavy with gasoline, dust, and exhaustion. Around the cramped interior sat the key members of the convoy — Claire, Carlos, Jill, and Jack — their faces shadowed by fatigue and flickering dashboard light.
"Alaska?" Claire asked, shaking her head, strands of auburn hair catching the dim glow.
"We have to check it out," Alice insisted. "We can't just ignore it."
Claire sighed, her hands gripping the wheel. "Do you realize what kind of journey that would be?"
"I do," Alice said evenly. "It'll be long and hard. But we can't keep driving in circles."
"Then you should understand," Claire's tone sharpened, "you can't show these people false hope."
Alice turned her gaze out the window, watching sand swirl into the dying sunlight. 'She's protecting them,' Alice thought. 'But sometimes protection is the same as imprisonment.'
"But the radio signals—"
"They're from six months ago," Claire interrupted sharply. "We've answered dozens like that. Every time we reached the source, it was already too late."
Alice met her eyes. "These transmissions show that area wasn't contaminated. It could still be safe."
Claire looked away, frustration tightening her voice. "The people in this convoy depend on me. They don't need more dreams to die chasing."
Silence hung for a moment, broken only by the rattle of the desert road. Then Jack, sitting casually in the corner with his boots up, spoke, his tone lazy but edged with something dangerous. "Mind if I say something?"
Claire exhaled. "Go ahead."
Jack leaned forward, a faint grin pulling at his lips. "I think these people are already living in despair. A little hope won't kill them. If we stay stuck in this hopeless routine, we'll rot. Hope, at least, gives a reason to keep breathing. If it fails, so be it. If it works—well, maybe that's salvation."
His words hung there, dark but somehow persuasive.
Alice looked at him, surprised. "Never thought I'd hear something like that from you."
Jack smirked. "Claire, you asked for everyone's opinion. Let's hear them all. You can't carry the weight alone."
Claire studied him for a long moment. 'He's trouble,' she thought, 'but he isn't wrong.' Finally, she nodded. "Fine. We'll vote."
Later, when all the survivors were gathered under the fading light, Claire explained the plan. After long debate and hesitant murmurs, a decision was made.
"Since everyone agrees," Claire said loudly, "we're heading for Alaska."
A ripple of cautious relief spread through the group — hope mixed with fear.
---
That night, the desert stretched endlessly beneath a bruised purple sky. The convoy's vehicles formed a half-circle against the wind, engines cooling, fires crackling faintly. The leaders huddled near a map spread over a crate.
"Food and fuel are almost gone," one man muttered. "If we go for Alaska, we'll need a lot more supplies."
"I've got half a tank left," another said grimly.
"My gas can only take me a hundred kilometers," a third added. "Damn it."
Carlos unfolded the map wider, pointing with a gloved finger. "We can restock here, maybe here. Safest route's this one."
Alice leaned in, eyes narrowing. "No. That place is empty. I've been there."
"Then here—"
Jack's voice slid in, smooth and almost amused. "Can I say something?"
Claire hesitated, knowing that tone. "Go ahead."
Jack's grin widened, catching the faint glow of firelight. "Those small towns have been stripped bare. Nothing left but dust and bones. The only place worth a damn is a big city — and the nearest one still standing is Las Vegas."
Carlos slammed his fist against the table. "Are you out of your mind, Jack? The cities are crawling with infected! You trying to get us all killed?"
"Carlos." Claire's voice cut sharp. "We've scoured half the small towns already. They're empty. The only chance left is a city."
"But it's suicide," Carlos growled.
Alice's eyes lifted, calm but determined. "Where there's danger, there's also what we need. I agree with Las Vegas."
For a brief moment, Jack's eyes glinted with something dark. 'That's right, agree,' he thought. 'You'll see soon enough what kind of salvation waits there.'
He leaned back, smiling faintly. "Didn't even have to convince you. The good ones never last long anyway."
---
The next morning.
The sun rose like a furnace, spilling gold and heat over the dead earth. The convoy rumbled across the cracked highway, wind tearing through broken billboards and skeletons of old cars. Sand rolled over everything like an ocean, swallowing the ruins of civilization inch by inch.
Inside the trucks, the air smelled of dust, oil, and decay. L.J. sat near the back, his face pale and sweating. His breath came shallow, his eyes sunken. He kept his jacket sleeve tugged low, hiding the infected bite festering underneath. 'Just a scratch,' he told himself. 'Just make it through today.'
Miles ahead, Las Vegas rose on the horizon — not the glittering paradise it once was, but a graveyard of steel and glass. Towers lay broken, half buried under dunes. Neon signs flickered weakly in the distance, ghosts of a past life.
"So this is Las Vegas?" Teri asked, pressing her face to the window.
"The desert's eaten it alive," Jill murmured.
"Where are the infected?" Teri's voice trembled.
Jack glanced outside, his expression unreadable. "Looks like it's been cleaned up."
"Cleaned up?" she echoed.
"Remember those infected crows?" Jack said casually. "They feed on zombie flesh. Maybe they cleared this place out."
Teri's eyes brightened. "Then there aren't any zombies left?"
Jack smiled, that same cold, mocking smile. "Who knows?"
The convoy slowed to a stop before a gas station half-swallowed by sand. A massive metal container blocked the entrance, towering like a rusted wall.
"Damn it!" Claire shouted, jumping out. The heat hit her like a slap. "Clear it out! We need to move that thing."
The survivors scrambled — some standing guard, others checking the perimeter. The wind screamed through the empty streets, carrying the distant echo of something not quite human.
Jack approached the container, running a hand along its corroded surface. "This thing didn't just end up here," he muttered. "Someone put it here on purpose. Makes you wonder what's inside."
"Don't touch it!" Alice called sharply, stepping forward, her instincts flaring.
Jack chuckled softly. "Even if I don't, do you really think it's harmless?"
Alice's eyes narrowed. "You knew. You wanted us to come here."
Jack turned toward her, smiling faintly. "You're right. Someone wanted you here. And they've prepared something special — a grand zombie feast. The journey of death, Alice. What's a journey without death?"
Before anyone could react, a loud metallic thump shattered the stillness.
The iron doors of the container crashed open, slamming into the ground. For one terrifying heartbeat, the world went silent. Then came the roar — a deep, guttural chorus of hunger and madness.
Dozens of creatures spilled out — not ordinary infected, but enhanced monsters, faster, stronger, hungrier. Their eyes burned with feral light as they charged.
Claire's hand went to her gun. Carlos raised his rifle. Jill shouted orders.
Jack only smiled, stepping back into the shadow of the truck. 'Now,' he thought, 'let's see who survives the journey of death.'