Hours passed, reaching the outskirts of the city, the convoy came to a halt, the headlights of the vehicles cutting through the darkness and illuminating the road ahead. Andrew stepped out of the Humvee, followed by the soldiers they'd picked up along the way, as well as the two from the compound. The third soldier remained in the truck's cabin, keeping watch.
Before anyone could speak, Andrew pulled a flashlight from his vest and gave a sharp order.
"Fan out. Check the area — I don't want any walkers sneaking up on us."
The group moved quickly, sweeping the immediate perimeter, weapons ready. After a few tense minutes, they regrouped and confirmed the area was clear.
One of the soldiers — a woman with short, dust-streaked hair and the worn look of someone running on fumes — stepped forward. She came to attention and snapped a salute.
"Corporal Dana Whitaker, sir." Her voice was steady despite the exhaustion in her eyes. "On behalf of my squad and myself , thank you. If your people hadn't stopped, i doubt we would have made it."
Andrew responded with a nod , his expression cool but respectful. " At ease"
Then extended his right hand .
"Sergeant Andrew Mercer," he replied. "You are welcome , good that we crossed paths when we did, then ."
Then Corporal Whitaker wasted no time. She stepped closer and asked .
"Sir . What the hell happened back there at the safe zone?" she demanded, motioning toward the city. "We were patrolling near the outer perimeter when we heard the gunfire. Then all of a sudden… a wave of those things came outta nowhere. Almost boxed us in. Next thing we know, you roll through with a damn convoy of civilians."
Andrew kept his stance firm, meeting her glare evenly.
"The safe zone's gone," he said flatly. "Compromised from the inside. Too many people let in without being properly checked. Some of them were already bitten when they got through the gates."
Whitaker confused asked . "Bites? That's how it spreads?"
Andrew gave a tight nod. "Yeah. All it takes is one."
She turned toward her squad, their faces visible pale and tired in light of the headlights, then looked back. "What the hell is it? Some kind of virus? We unload half a mag into one of them and they don't even flinch — what the hell keeps them moving?"
Andrew raised an eyebrow. "Weren't you briefed? Their weakness is the head. It's the only thing that'll drop them."
Whitaker scowled. "Yeah, we were told that. But I'm not talking about just taking them down — I'm asking why. How the hell are they still walking? We shoot them in the chest, arms, legs, doesn't look like it's affecting them."
Andrew let out a breath, running a hand over his face for a moment before answering.
"Because it doesn't , they're dead."
The words hung in the air like a lead weight.
Whitaker's eyes widened. "What do y—"
Before she could finish, a distant, mechanical chopping sound cut through the night. Heads turned in the direction , was coming from ,as the silhouette of several helicopters appeared on the horizon, their blinking lights sweeping low toward the city.
Andrew's gut tightened as he watched them.
People jumped out of the trucks staring at the helicopters heading toward the city. One soldier suggested they must be reinforcements. But any hope was crushed when fireballs erupted from explosions in the distance, leaving everyone — except Andrew — frozen in shock. Not that he didn't reacted at all ; it's one thing to see something like this on TV, and another to witness it with your own eyes.
A soldier muttered in disbelief ,eyes wide, "They're dropping fucking napalm in the streets."
Snapping out of it, Whitaker turned to Andrew, panic and fear sharp in her voice. "What the hell is happening? Why are they bombing the city?"
Andrew sighed, genuinely sorry for them. "It's a contingency," he said calmly . "In case containment failed."
"But there are still people in there! Soldiers!" she protested, her voice rising.
"The orders came from the top," Andrew answered grimly.
" How do you know this ?" she demanded, angrier now.
"I overheard it," Andrew said . "Just before everything went to hell. That's why we hurried to leave the city."
"Then why the fuck didn't anyone send out an evacuation order?" she asked, her voice tight with grief and fury.
Andrew had no answer.
After a few moments, Whitaker exhaled, trying to steady herself. "Alright… so what do we do now?" she asked.
Everyone in the convoy turned their eyes to Andrew.
He let out a quiet sigh. "Now… we find a place to spend the night. It's too dark, and those things are still out there. After the noise we just made, it's only a matter of time before we are attacked if we don't move ." His gaze swept over Whitaker, her squad, and the rest of the people . "So — get in the trucks. We're moving out," he ordered firmly.
The soldiers gave sharp nods and moved to follow the command. The civilians, still shaken, hurried to do the same.
....
They drove for about half an hour before Andrew, leading the convoy, spotted a lighted sign for a truck stop flickering in the distance. Just as it caught his eye, the lights stuttered and went dark. Seeing it as their best shot for shelter that night, Andrew grabbed the radio and informed the other two drivers of the approaching truck stop, which it seems to have lost power , instructing them to stay close. Confirmations crackled back over the radio.
As they reached the entrance to the parking lot, their headlights swept across the grim scene. A car lay overturned, another wrecked with its front end crushed. Baggage lay scattered open, clothes strewn across the cracked asphalt. Smears of dried blood marked the pavement, trash littered the area, and the truck stop's windows were shattered stained with blood .
They stopped near the fuel pumps, keeping a safe distance from the building. Andrew climbed out of the Humvee, Jun-hyuk moving to follow with Young-min and Erik starting to get out as well, but Andrew motioned for them to stay put. The soldiers dismounted from the trucks, while the civilians were about to do the same , when Andrew raised a hand and stopped them.
"Alright, listen up," Andrew called out, his voice firm. "I want a perimeter set around the vehicles. Me and two others will check the building and look for a way to the rooftop."
One of the civilians spoke up, hesitant. "Rooftop? Why?"
Without even glancing toward the voice, Andrew answered flatly, "Because it'll be safer. Less chance of getting attacked in our sleep. And from now on, I'd appreciate not being interrupted while i'm speaking ."
A quiet, "Sorry," followed.
Andrew continued " And in case you have spotted a walker nearby " , then one of the soldiers cut in. "Uh—walkers?"
Andrew shot him a look sharp enough to shut him up.
"As I was saying," Andrew continued. "If you spot one nearby, do not make loud noises. Stay quiet. If there aren't too many, avoid using your firearms. A single shot'll will attract every one of those things that are in the vicinity . Use a knife, a crowbar, whatever you've got—and aim for the head. You already know that part."
Everyone responded with a firm nod .
Andrew quickly picked two soldiers to accompany him, and the rest switched on their flashlights, spreading out to form the perimeter around the vehicles.
Andrew and the two soldiers flicked their own lights on and started toward the building — a place called "Red Oak Truck Stop", the faded, flickering sign now fully dark. Andrew took point, his silenced MP5 raised, with the two soldiers flanking him on either side.
They reached the entrance, where the shattered remains of the glass sliding doors crunched underfoot. Raising their beams, they scanned the inside. Chaos. Overturned shelves, snacks, canned goods, and bottled drinks scattered across the floor. Broken glass glinted in their flashlight beams. A few bodies lay motionless amid the wreckage, their faces pale and lifeless.
Andrew silently motioned for the others to follow him along the side of the building, bypassing the front entrance. The two soldiers gave tight nods and moved with him, weapons ready.
They turned the corner, moving carefully, their flashlight beams cutting through the dark, catching glimpses of surrounding trees and an abandoned delivery truck. The right side door of the truck was smeared with bloody handprints, and on the ground in front of it lay a corpse — a crowbar embedded deep into its skull, dried blood pooled beneath it.
As they reached the back of the building, a figure stumbled out from the shadows around the corner. It was the desfigured remains of a truck stop employee — now one of the living dead. One arm was missing, its leg twisted at an unnatural angle, the body riddled with deep, bloodied wounds.
The two soldiers stiffened, fear plain in their posture as they raised their rifles. Andrew immediately raised a hand to stop them. Without hesitation, he took aim and fired a single, suppressed shot. The round struck the walker clean in the forehead, dropping it in an instant just as it caught sight of them.
Keeping a careful distance from the corner, they moved slowly around it, sweeping the area with their flashlights. Two nearby walkers were already making their way toward them, drawn by the sound of the body collapsing moments earlier. Andrew quickly raised his MP5 and took them both down with clean, suppressed headshots.
Moving toward the back wall, they approached the ladder leading to the rooftop. As they passed a large industrial trash bin with its lid propped open, one of the soldiers wandered a little too close. In a sudden blur of movement, a bloodied hand shot out from inside, grabbing the soldier by his vest. The soldier barely had time to react before the snarling walker inside lunged for his throat.
Andrew moved fast — he lunged forward, driving his combat knife into the walker's skull, pinning it against the side of the bin. The body went limp instantly, slumping back inside. He immediately grabbed the shaken soldier by the shoulder, his voice low and firm.
"Easy. Don't scream."
The soldier nodded, his face pale, managing a shaken, "T-thank you."
Andrew quickly checked inside the bin for any more threats. Finding it clear, he gave the order to move. They reached the ladder and carefully climbed up to the rooftop. Thankfully, it was empty.
Satisfied, Andrew led them back down the opposite side of the building, circling toward the convoy. On the way, they encountered two more walkers but dispatched them quickly and quietly.
As they neared the vehicles, Andrew's mind lingered on what had just happened. The others still weren't ready to handle walkers up close without relying on firearms. That had to change — and soon. If it didn't, they'd all become liabilities.
When they returned to the convoy, Andrew could immediately see how tense everyone was. Whitaker approached them and asked what had happened — they'd seen the flashlight beams darting in different directions and got worried. "Is anyone injured?" she asked.
Andrew gestured toward the shaken soldier. "He was grabbed by a walker hiding in a trash bin, but he's fine. No bites. We took care of it."
She let out a breath and gave a small nod. "We need to have a serious talk about this whole walker thing."
Andrew agreed. "Yeah — but after we rest. The rooftop's clear and safe for now." He turned to the rest of the group. "Everyone, grab whatever you need and get out of the trucks. Lock them up " he took the key and did the same to the humvee.
As people began gathering their things, someone hesitated and asked, "Wait… are we just gonna sleep on the roof? Isn't there anything we can use to sleep on?"
Andrew glanced at the building's entrance, then back at the speaker. The guy had a point. "You're right," he said, then pointed to Jun-hyuk and four soldiers. "You're with me. We'll check inside, see what we can find."
While the others headed for the ladder to the rooftop, Andrew's team moved carefully into the store. Broken glass crunched under their boots, and the beams from their flashlights reflected off bits of shattered mirrors, glass doors from the refrigerated display cases, and glossy snack wrappers scattered across the floor, casting erratic glints of light through the ruined interior.
Andrew turned to his team and whispered, "Stay alert and watch your steps. If you need help or find something, signal with your flashlight. Understood?"
He got nods from all of them, a few quiet "Yes, sir" murmured in return.
Stepping inside, they began checking for anything salvageable, and especially something to sleep on. Andrew split them into three pairs.
Two soldiers — a tall, broad-shouldered private and a younger one with buzzed hair — moved toward the left side of the store, where shelves had collapsed into a heap. Most of their contents were scattered across the floor. As they approached, their flashlight beams caught the dull, bloodied face of a walker trapped between the fallen shelves and the wall.
The younger soldier instinctively raised his weapon, but the tall one stopped him with a hand on his arm and quietly drew a knife. The two exchanged a brief nod, and the tall soldier leaned in, driving the blade into the walker's skull with a sickening crunch.
Meanwhile, Jun-hyuk and a lean, sharp-eyed corporal made their way to the counter area, checking behind it and rifling through whatever drawers or cabinets hadn't already been picked clean.
Andrew, with a quiet, older soldier who kept his rifle at the ready , headed toward the back. The bodies on the ground showed obvious head wounds — already dealt with, thankfully. Their flashlights swept over scattered snacks, broken bottles, and empty shelves until they reached a back storage alcove.
There, in a half-collapsed pile, they found what they were hoping for: a few sleeping bags and some blankets still in plastic .
Andrew let out a small breath of relief.
"We've got something," he called softly to the others, raising his flashlight as a signal.
One by one, the others regrouped around him, the tension in their postures easing just slightly.
They carried the sleeping bags and blankets outside, with only the older soldier lighting the way with his flashlight. Once outside, the others — both soldiers and civilians — helped them carry and organize what they'd found.
The man with the amputated hand still hadn't fully recovered from the blood loss and shock, so it took a couple of people to carefully help him up the ladder to the rooftop.
Once everyone was safely up, the sleeping bags and blankets were distributed, arranged to make sure no one was left without something to sleep on for the night.