Chapter 11

The forest seemed darker as the trio continued their silent, cautious march. The echo of the gunshot still reverberated in Alex's mind. His senses were on high alert, every step calculated, every sound analyzed for danger. The sun was beginning to dip behind the treeline, painting the sky in deep hues of orange and purple, casting long shadows over the uneven terrain.

Daz walked slightly ahead, his spear at the ready, while Frank lagged behind, gripping his machete tightly. Alex remained in the middle, keeping his knife at hand and his eyes constantly scanning the surrounding woods. They had been walking for nearly an hour since the shot rang out, and though the forest seemed still, the feeling of being hunted was hard to shake.

"Whoever shot that's probably long gone," Daz whispered, breaking the silence.

"Maybe," Alex replied, his voice low. "Or maybe they're watching us right now."

Frank let out a quiet, humorless chuckle. "Optimistic as always."

Alex didn't respond. His instincts told him that they weren't alone. Whether it was the shooter or something else, he couldn't tell yet, but the forest had grown too quiet. It was as if the trees themselves were holding their breath.

"We need to find shelter before it gets dark," Alex said. "Somewhere defensible."

Daz nodded, quickening his pace slightly. "There's a cave system not far from here. I remember it from when we first passed through this area a while back."

"How defensible?" Frank asked, wiping sweat from his brow.

"Better than standing out here like sitting ducks," Daz muttered. "If we can reach it before nightfall, we'll be safe."

They pressed on, the forest growing denser with each step. The trees thickened, branches hanging low, as if reaching for them. The underbrush tugged at their feet, slowing their progress. The sense of being stalked didn't leave Alex. He felt the weight of unseen eyes on him, watching, waiting.

After another grueling hour, the entrance to the cave came into view—hidden among a thicket of vines and brambles. It wasn't large, but it was deep enough to offer some protection. They moved swiftly, clearing the entrance of overgrowth and slipping inside just as the last of the daylight faded away.

The cave was damp, its stone walls cold to the touch. The air inside was thick with the smell of earth and moss. They lit a small fire, barely enough to light the area but just enough to warm themselves. Alex crouched near the flames, his mind turning over their situation.

"Do you think we were followed?" Frank asked, his voice hushed as he leaned against the stone wall, glancing toward the cave entrance.

Alex shook his head slowly. "Not sure. But we shouldn't assume we're alone."

Daz settled down, taking a long drink from his canteen. "We should take turns on watch. I'll go first."

"I'll go after," Frank added, stifling a yawn. "Wake me when it's time."

Alex nodded, agreeing silently as he rested his back against the cool rock wall. His eyes, however, never left the cave entrance.

---

The night dragged on slowly, the fire barely keeping the cave illuminated. Alex hadn't slept much. When Frank had taken over the watch, Alex tried to close his eyes, but the sense of unease gnawed at him. Daz was snoring lightly to his left, and Frank was sitting on a rock, occasionally poking at the fire with a stick.

Suddenly, a faint sound reached Alex's ears—a shuffling, almost imperceptible against the background of the crackling fire. He stiffened, his hand immediately going to the knife strapped to his belt. His eyes darted toward the cave entrance.

"Did you hear that?" Alex whispered, keeping his voice low but sharp.

Frank didn't respond immediately, but after a moment, he nodded, his hand tightening around the machete. "Yeah. Something's out there."

Alex stood slowly, careful not to make too much noise. He moved toward the mouth of the cave, pressing his back against the wall as he peered outside. The night was pitch-black, the forest silent save for the occasional rustling of leaves in the wind.

Then, from the darkness, a figure emerged. It was moving toward the cave, slowly, cautiously, its silhouette barely visible in the dim light of the dying fire.

The figure paused, seemingly sensing that something—or someone—was watching.

"Get ready," Alex whispered, his voice barely audible. He crouched low, knife gripped tightly in his hand. Frank and Daz were already on their feet, weapons drawn, each of them as tense as coiled springs.

The figure took another step forward, and Alex caught a glint of metal—a rifle slung over their shoulder. His pulse quickened. This wasn't just a wanderer.

"Stop!" Alex barked suddenly, stepping forward to make his presence known. "Any closer and we'll kill you where you stand."

The figure froze. For a long moment, neither side moved. The tension was thick, the silence unbearable.

Slowly, the figure raised both hands in surrender. "I'm not here to fight."

The voice was calm but carried an edge of exhaustion. It was a woman's voice, steady but wary. The figure stepped closer, and in the flickering firelight, Alex could finally make out her features—sharp eyes, sunken cheeks, dirt smudged across her face. She wore a worn, battered jacket, and her rifle hung loosely over her shoulder. A pistol rested in a holster at her side.

"You've got five seconds to explain why you're sneaking up on us," Alex growled, his grip tightening on the knife.

The woman, still holding her hands up, took a careful breath before speaking. "I wasn't sneaking. I saw your fire earlier, but I stayed back to see if you were dangerous." She glanced at the weapons pointed in her direction. "Looks like I made the right call."

Daz stepped forward, spear raised. "And how do we know *you're* not dangerous?"

The woman lowered her hands slowly, keeping them visible. "If I wanted to cause trouble, I wouldn't have come alone." Her eyes scanned the group, calculating, but her tone remained steady. "I've been traveling solo for weeks. Saw some men earlier—heavily armed, organized. Figured you might be them. But you're not."

"Who are you?" Frank demanded, his voice harsher than Alex had ever heard it. His eyes never left the woman, as if waiting for her to make a false move.

"Name's Sarah," she replied, keeping her tone even, though Alex could hear the underlying strain. "Like I said, I'm on my own. Just trying to survive like everyone else."

Alex didn't lower his knife, but he studied her more closely now—her body language, her exhaustion. Her clothes were worn and filthy, signs of a long journey, and her eyes carried the weight of someone who had seen too much. She didn't seem like a threat. But he'd learned long ago not to trust appearances.

"Why should we believe you?" Alex asked, his voice cold.

"You don't have to," Sarah replied, shrugging slightly. "But I'm not looking for a fight. I saw the group of soldiers earlier—about five of them, maybe more. They didn't spot me, but they were close. I thought you might be with them."

Alex exchanged a glance with Daz and Frank. This was no coincidence. Sarah had seen the same military group he had been avoiding.

"Why were you watching us?" Daz asked, his voice sharp.

"Had to make sure you weren't with them," she answered, her eyes narrowing. "If you were, I wouldn't be standing here."

"She's lying," Frank muttered, his grip tightening on his machete.

Alex raised a hand to silence him, keeping his gaze on Sarah. "We've crossed paths with those soldiers before. They're not the kind of people you want to be around. But if you're lying, we'll deal with you just like we would them."

Sarah nodded, her face serious. "I don't want any trouble. You're not the first group I've come across, but most don't last long out here. I'll move on if you want me to, but… safety in numbers, right?"

Alex hesitated for a moment, weighing his options. Bringing a stranger into their group was a risk, especially with the soldiers nearby. But leaving her out here, with the same group hunting them, felt equally dangerous. He knew what it was like to be alone in this world, and something about Sarah's weariness spoke to him.

"You can stay," Alex said finally, "but we leave at first light. And if you try anything, anything at all, I won't hesitate."

Sarah gave a small nod of understanding, her eyes never leaving Alex's. "Understood."

Alex motioned toward the fire. "Get some rest. But don't think we're letting our guard down."

With that, the tension in the cave eased, though it didn't vanish entirely. Sarah sat cautiously by the fire, her movements slow and deliberate. The group's eyes stayed on her, but for now, there was a fragile truce.

As Alex settled back against the cave wall, he couldn't shake the feeling that this new addition, Sarah, had brought more trouble than she let on.

---

Morning came quickly, the first light creeping into the cave as the fire burned low. Alex stood up, stretching his stiff muscles and preparing for the day ahead. Daz and Frank were already awake, packing up their gear.

Sarah was the last to rise, her eyes wary but calm. She didn't speak much as she readied herself to join the group.

"We move fast today," Alex said as he strapped on his bag. "We need to reach the mountains by nightfall."

"And if we don't?" Daz asked, glancing toward the distant peaks that were barely visible through the thick canopy.

"Then we make do," Alex replied. "But staying in one place isn't an option."

With that, they set off, the weight of their survival pressing down on each of them. The mountains were close, but so were the soldiers. And as they moved deeper into the wilderness, Alex couldn't shake the feeling that they were walking straight into something much worse than the undead.