The tricycle hummed softly as Vinz drove on, the night slowly swallowing the forest around him. The orange glow of sunset had already disappeared behind the hills, leaving only the dim beam of the tricycle's headlight and the quiet rhythm of tires rolling over the cracked road.
His eyes were heavy. The road stretched endlessly ahead, just dark trees, broken fences, and the faint silhouettes of houses left behind. The last small town he passed through was a nightmare, streets burned out, cars flipped, bodies lying under sheets or left to rot. The smell still lingered in his mind, sour and heavy.
Then, out of nowhere.
"HELP!"
He froze. For a second, he wasn't sure if he actually heard it or if his mind was playing tricks on him. But then it came again, louder this time.
"HELP! PLEASE!"
Vinz slammed the brakes. The tricycle rattled to a stop, the engine coughing once before going silent. The night was still again, except for that voice echoing faintly up the road.
He looked ahead and saw a flicker of light, like a small fire struggling to stay alive in the distance.
His heartbeat quickened.
He turned off the tricycle's light and grabbed his hammer, his palms slick with sweat. He didn't know if this was a trap, but something deep in him said he couldn't just ignore it.
He walked forward, slow and quiet, the hammer firm in his grip. The closer he got, the stronger the smell became, burning rubber, smoke, and blood. Somewhere nearby, low growls cut through the air.
When he finally reached the clearing, he saw it.
Two people were cornered near a burning pickup truck. A man, maybe in his late thirties, was clutching a bleeding arm. Beside him, a girl around Vinz's age swung a knife at a small crowd of infected surrounding them.
There were six — no, eight. Their clothes were torn, skin cracked and pale, eyes white and veiny.
The girl's arms shook with exhaustion, her face pale in the firelight.
Vinz didn't think. He just ran.
The nearest infected turned, mouth open, a dry snarl escaping its throat. Vinz swung hard, the hammer slamming into its temple with a dull crack. It fell instantly.
The others turned toward him.
"Get down!" he shouted.
The girl dropped low as he swung again, smashing another one across the face. The man stumbled backward, trying to stay up with his wounded arm. The girl stabbed one in the neck, but the knife got stuck.
Another infected grabbed her from behind. She screamed.
Vinz lunged and drove his hammer into its skull. Blood splattered across his sleeve as the body collapsed beside her.
"You okay?" he asked, panting.
She nodded shakily, breath ragged.
Two more infected shuffled out from behind the burning truck. Vinz stepped forward, legs heavy but mind sharp. He smashed the first one in the jaw, then the side of its head. It fell.
The last one lunged. Vinz slipped, barely dodging as its claws tore his jacket. He swung upward, hitting its chin so hard its head snapped back before it crumpled on the road.
Silence.
The fire crackled. The smell of smoke hung thick in the air.
The girl dropped her knife. Her hands trembled. She looked about Vinz's age, probably around seventeen and eighteen, with messy hair tied loosely behind her head.
The man, still gripping his arm, stared at Vinz like he couldn't believe what he'd just seen.
"Thank God you came," the man said, breathing hard. "We thought we were done for."
Vinz nodded, still trying to steady his breathing. "You okay?"
The man nodded weakly. "Just my arm. Got scratched, I think, it's not too deep."
The girl stayed silent, her face unreadable, but the exhaustion in her eyes said enough.
"I'm Vinz," he said finally.
"Ken," the man replied. "And this is Cassandra."
Ken sat down on the road, exhaling. "We were trying to get to our place near the woods when the truck hit something. The engine caught fire, and those things came out of nowhere."
Vinz looked at the wreck. The truck was gone, there's no way saving it.
"You shouldn't stay here," he said. "The noise will draw more of them."
Ken nodded slowly. "You're right… but it's too dark to wander without a plan."
He looked past Vinz and spotted the tricycle parked down the road.
"That yours?"
"Yeah."
Ken's brow furrowed. "That tricycle… looks familiar."
Vinz frowned. "What do you mean?"
Ken hesitated, then stood up, still pressing his arm. "Do you know someone named Emman?"
Vinz froze. The name hit him hard.
"That's my father," he said quietly.
Ken's expression softened. "Emman Paz?"
Vinz nodded.
Ken let out a short, weary laugh. "I can't believe it. I knew him. We worked together years ago, before I went abroad. He was my friend. Best friend."
Vinz stared. "You knew my dad?"
Ken nodded, smiling faintly. "Yeah. He always talked about you and your brother. Said you were lazy but good kids."
Vinz felt something twist in his chest.
Ken looked at the tricycle again. "So this was his, huh?"
"Yeah," Vinz said softly.
"It's all I've got left."
Ken's eyes dimmed. "We've got a small place nearby, through the trees. Food, water, some shelter. You can stay for the night. It's safer than the road."
Cassandra finally spoke, her voice calm but tired. "It's your choice. We won't force you."
Vinz looked at her, then at the fire, the corpses, the dark forest beyond. He didn't know if he could trust them, but right now, he didn't have much of a choice.
He took a breath. "Alright," he said. "Lead the way."
Ken smiled faintly. "Good. You won't regret it."
They walked together, leaving the truck and the dead behind. The cold air stung their faces as the forest swallowed them again. Vinz pushed the tricycle along the dirt path to avoid infected hearing the engine noise, while Ken and Cassandra led ahead.
After a while, the trail opened into a small clearing. A wooden house stood there, half-hidden in the dark. A single lantern glowed weakly by the door.
"Here we are," Ken said softly. "Home, for now."
Vinz looked at the place, then at them. Cassandra opened the door, checking the corners before waving them in.
Inside was small but safe, blankets on the floor, canned food on shelves, a few weapons by the wall.
Vinz parked the tricycle by the porch and sat down, catching his breath. Ken wrapped his arm with a strip of cloth while Cassandra handed him a bottle of water.
"You should rest," she said quietly. "You look like hell."
Vinz almost smiled. "Yeah… you too."
She didn't answer. Just sat by the window, keeping watch.
Vinz leaned against the wall, hammer still in hand. The light flickered faintly through the window, and for the first time in hours, the night felt still again.