Chapter 35 : The Rescue

The group moved into position as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the abandoned streets. Kate crouched behind a rusted sedan near the station's parking lot, her tools spread out before her as she worked on the car's ignition. Nearby, Daniels climbed a fire escape, settling into position on the roof of a neighboring building with his rifle. Chris and Morrison disappeared into the foliage, making their way toward the hidden basement window.

Kate muttered under her breath as she worked, sweat beading on her brow despite the cool evening air. She glanced up briefly, spotting two ruffian lookouts near the station's main entrance. Their posture was relaxed, their weapons slung casually over their shoulders.

"Amateurs," she whispered to herself, returning to her task.

Kate's hands moved with surprising confidence now, stripping the ignition wire and connecting it to the battery. Sparks flew, and for a moment, she thought she'd failed. But then the engine roared to life.

"Yes," she whispered, a small smile tugging at her lips. She quickly climbed into the driver's seat, shifted the car into gear, and pressed down on the gas. The car lurched forward, its headlights cutting through the darkness.

The noise drew immediate attention. Walkers turned in droves, their guttural groans growing louder as they began to converge on the car. Several ruffians also spun toward the noise, their shouts filled with confusion and anger.

Kate's grip on the steering wheel was tight, her knuckles white as she navigated the debris-strewn street. She weaved around abandoned cars and chunks of rubble, glancing in the rearview mirror to ensure the ruffians were still following her.

"Come on, you bastards," she muttered, slamming her hand against the horn again. The blaring sound drew more walkers from the shadows, their groans rising as they stumbled toward the commotion.

The car hit a pothole, jolting violently. Kate gritted her teeth, holding steady. "Not now," she whispered, as if willing the vehicle to hold together. She glanced at the fuel gauge—it was just above empty. There wouldn't be much time before the car gave out.

Her mind flickered back to Ryan, to those quiet afternoons spent under the hood of the truck, his calm voice guiding her through every step. "You don't need brute force, Katie," he'd said once, his hands expertly twisting wires together. "Just a little finesse. Be patient, and the car will do the work for you."

She smiled faintly at the memory, then shook it off. "You'd love this, Ryan," she muttered under her breath, swerving sharply to avoid a wrecked bus. "Me, running around with half a dozen armed maniacs on my tail."

The horn's blare had drawn more walkers, and now the ruffians were splitting their attention—some chasing the car, others distracted by the undead shambling into their path. Kate grinned grimly. "Good. Keep splitting up. Makes my job easier."

The car sputtered again, the engine starting to struggle. "No, no, no," she hissed, hitting the gas. The sedan lurched forward, but she could feel it losing power. She glanced ahead and spotted an intersection up ahead, partially blocked by a wrecked truck. If she timed it right, she could abandon the car there and slip away.

With a deep breath, Kate steered toward the blockade, letting the car coast to a stop just behind the wreckage. She shoved the horn down, locking it in place so the blaring sound would continue. Then she grabbed her machete and slipped out of the car, darting into the shadows as the ruffians approached.

"Over here!" one of them shouted, pointing at the car. Another fired a few rounds into the air, trying to keep the walkers at bay.

The first silenced shot from Daniels' rifle struck its target cleanly, the ruffian dropping like a marionette with its strings cut. The remaining gang members froze, their confusion quickly morphing into alarm. One of them—a wiry man with a shaved head—barked orders.

"Sniper! Find cover! Now!"

Daniels chambered his next round, his breathing steady as he shifted his aim to the man shouting commands. "Always take out the leader," he muttered, squeezing the trigger.

The bullet struck true, hitting the man in the chest. He staggered backward with a strangled yell, collapsing behind a stack of crates. The gang scattered, taking cover behind cars, debris, and even the station walls.

From her hiding spot near the abandoned car, Kate heard the muffled shots and knew Daniels had started his part of the plan. She gripped her machete tighter, her heart racing. The horn blaring from the car she'd abandoned was still drawing walkers, their groans growing louder as they shambled toward the commotion.

The ruffians, now under fire from above and surrounded by the undead, were losing cohesion. One of them, a burly man with a crowbar, swung wildly at an approaching walker, caving in its skull. But for every zombie they took down, three more seemed to appear from the shadows.

Meanwhile, Chris and Morrison crept along the station's eastern side, moving in the shadows. Chris kept his rifle slung across his back, his pistol drawn for close encounters. Morrison carried a crowbar, his movements surprisingly quiet for a man his size.

"We're close," Morrison whispered, pointing to the large tree that partially obscured the basement window. The pair crouched behind a rusted dumpster, scanning the area for any ruffians who might have circled around.

"Clear," Chris murmured, his sharp eyes darting from one dark corner to the next. He motioned for Morrison to follow.

The basement window was small, barely large enough for a child to crawl through. Morrison knelt by it, running his fingers along the frame to check for any obstructions.

"Think they're in there?" Chris asked, keeping watch.

"They should be," Morrison replied, his voice low. "If Marcus followed the protocol, they'll all be in the basement."

Chris nodded. "Let's get their attention, then." He tapped lightly on the glass, then again, harder this time. A few moments later, a faint movement inside caught his eye. A pair of wide eyes appeared behind the glass—it was Lucas.

Chris let out a breath of relief and motioned for the boy to stay quiet. Morrison pulled a piece of paper and a pencil from his pocket, quickly scribbling a message: "Ruffians outside. Barricade every entrance. Wait for Kate's signal." He pressed the note against the glass, and Lucas nodded before disappearing back into the darkness.

"That kid's got guts," Morrison said, shifting his crowbar from one hand to the other.

Chris nodded, his eyes fixed on the station above them. "Let's hope Marcus and the others act fast. We can't afford for this to go wrong."

Morrison gestured toward the east side of the station. "Let's move. Daniels is holding his own up there, but he can't keep it up forever."

The pair slipped away, retracing their steps toward the main battlefield.

Back at the intersection, Kate crouched low behind the dumpster, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The ruffians were still distracted, firing sporadically at walkers and shouting at each other in frustration.

Kate spotted her target—a gang member standing slightly apart from the others, his back turned to her. He was armed with a shotgun, but his focus was entirely on the horde of undead approaching from the west.

"Now or never," Kate whispered to herself. She moved quickly and silently, her machete glinting in the moonlight. She was on him in seconds, the blade slicing through the air and finding its mark in the side of his neck. The man gurgled, his shotgun slipping from his hands as he collapsed.

The noise caught the attention of another ruffian, who turned just in time to see Kate retrieving the shotgun from the ground. "Hey!" he shouted, raising his pistol.

Kate didn't hesitate. She fired the shotgun, the blast echoing through the night and dropping the man instantly. The recoil slammed into her shoulder, but she steadied herself, quickly retreating into the shadows before the others could pinpoint her location.

The loud shot, however, had unintended consequences. The walkers, already drawn by the car horn, now surged toward the noise. Dozens of them staggered into the intersection, their numbers swelling as they converged on the ruffians' position.

"Shit!" one of the gang members yelled. "We're getting overrun! Fall back!"

Kate used the chaos to her advantage, moving stealthily around the edge of the battle. She spotted Daniels on the rooftop, her rifle picking off targets with deadly precision. she gave her a brief nod before taking aim at another ruffian.

Chris and Morrison arrived at their designated position just as the ruffians began to retreat, their numbers thinned by both walkers and Daniels' sniper fire. Chris raised his rifle, picking off one of the fleeing gang members with a clean shot.

"Nice," Morrison muttered, swinging his crowbar to take down a stray walker that had wandered too close.

Kate, now reunited with Chris and Morrison, quickly relayed what she'd seen. "They're falling apart," she said, her chest heaving. "If we keep up the pressure, they'll break completely."

Chris nodded, his eyes scanning the battlefield. "Let's end this."

The trio moved as one, using the walkers as cover while they picked off the remaining ruffians. Daniels continued his relentless assault from above, his precision shots ensuring no one escaped.

By the time the dust settled, the ruffians were either dead or had fled into the night. The walkers, now without a clear target, began to disperse, some lingering to feed on the fallen.

Kate leaned against a wall, her machete dripping with blood. "We did it," she said, her voice laced with exhaustion.

Chris placed a hand on her shoulder. "Yeah. We did."

Morrison nodded grimly. "But this isn't over. If any of them made it back to their base, they'll come looking for revenge."

Kate's expression hardened. "Then we'll be ready."