Ambush At Dusk

A dull, gray-orange glow stained the sky as late afternoon slipped toward dusk. The raid party trudged through ankle-deep snow, each exhaled breath turning to mist in the freezing air. Leila led the group from the front, her rifle clutched tight against her chest. The earlier scouting around the clinic hadn't revealed any immediate threats, so they'd forced open a side entrance in search of medicine. Yet now, as they exited the building, arms laden with hastily packed supplies, the sun sank lower, its dying light casting long shadows across a barren parking lot filled with broken asphalt and half-buried cars.

She could see the weariness in everyone's faces. Mark and Tanya had rummaged through half-collapsed rooms, turning up a small stash of antibiotics and antiseptics in a rusted cabinet. Caleb found a dusty first-aid kit with bandages still intact. It wasn't a goldmine, but enough to potentially save lives back at the shelter—worth the risk, or so they hoped. They'd lingered too long in the dark corridors, though, and now the day was nearly spent.

Kai moved quietly near the rear flank, scanning the drifting snow. He'd barely spoken since they regrouped, ever alert. Leila was keenly aware of his presence, trying not to let her gaze linger on him too long. The tension between them pulsed, unspoken but powerful, heightened by the adrenaline of this mission. Keep your distance, she reminded herself, refusing to yield to the warm flicker she felt whenever she caught sight of him.

They were halfway across the parking lot when the moans began. At first, just a distant rasping carried on the wind. Leila froze, hand lifted to halt the group, eyes straining to find the source in the dimming light. Shadows stretched across the snow, turning lumps of debris into looming shapes. The color of the sky deepened, and Mark cursed under his breath.

"There," he whispered, pointing between two half-buried sedans. Movement—a figure stumbling, arms stiff, flesh tinted with a bluish sheen. Another half-frozen undead, like the frostbiters they'd encountered before. Then a second… a third. More dark shapes rose behind them. The moans grew louder, a chorus of death echoing across the deserted lot.

Tanya and Caleb eased their weapons up, scanning for the best vantage. Leila's heart thudded. It's nearly dusk. We can't be trapped out here. If the horde cornered them in the open snow, they'd have no easy cover, and the drifts would slow any retreat.

"Form a line," Leila ordered softly, taking position near a partially collapsed wall. "We fight them off quickly, push through to the road." She cast a glance at Kai, who nodded, eyes reflecting concern. The fierce swirl of conflicting emotion inside her chest threatened to distract her, but she clamped down on it, focusing on survival.

They moved to flank the first zombie, a half-frozen walker wearing the tattered remains of a nurse's uniform. It lurched forward, bits of ice clinging to its shoulders. Bullets from Mark's rifle took it down, the muzzle flash lighting the gloom for a second. But more silhouettes materialized from behind the twisted metal skeleton of a burned-out ambulance. The ambush quickly became a surge—several undead snarling as they stumbled over snow.

Tanya fired twice, dropping two, but the recoil and the numbness of her fingers made it hard to aim swiftly. One of the zombies closed in on her with surprising speed for something half-frozen. Caleb lunged, using his crowbar to knock it away, saving her from a vicious bite.

"Keep 'em at range!" Mark barked, but it was easier said than done. The thick snow hampered footwork; one misstep could send a defender tumbling, an easy target for grasping, ice-cold claws.

A wave of moans intensified as more undead crowded from the left side. Leila cursed under her breath—there must be a nest of them drawn by our noise. She steadied her rifle, squeezed off a shot, dropping a walker that had been inching dangerously close. Another advanced from her blind spot. She spun, pulling the trigger a heartbeat too late. Click—her rifle jammed in the frigid conditions.

Panic flared. The undead was near enough that she could see frost clinging to its milky eyes. It lunged, arms outstretched. Her mind flashed to the orchard fight, to Jace's betrayal, to every close call. No—

Suddenly, Kai was there, pivoting into the line of attack. He slammed the butt of his rifle into the walker's head, sending it staggering. In a swift motion, he racked his own weapon to finish it off with a well-aimed shot. The echo snapped across the snowy lot, and the undead collapsed, limbs twitching.

Leila's breath seized, a wild rush of relief mixing with the hot swirl of emotions she tried to suppress. She forced her rifle's mechanism to unjam, exhaling a shaky breath. "Thanks," she managed, voice strained.

Kai didn't answer with words. He offered a small nod, eyes brimming with concern. Even in the chaos, she felt that moment stretch—a wordless acknowledgment that he had just saved her life again. The closeness flared inside her, intensifying her conflict: she didn't want to rely on him, didn't want to risk her heart, yet she couldn't deny how safe she felt in that split second.

Before she could dwell on it, another walker lunged at Mark's side. The group resumed firing, pressing on. The fighting was fierce but mercifully brief. Undead littered the snow, motionless lumps quickly dusted by fresh flakes. None of the team had been bitten—only bruised or scratched at worst. But the day's light was gone, replaced by the last vestiges of twilight.

Panting, Leila and the others regrouped near a half-standing wall, the final moans fading. She wiped sweat from her brow, which felt absurd in the freezing cold, but adrenaline burned hot under her skin. Their newly acquired supplies—antibiotics, antiseptics—remained secure in a couple of duffel bags slung across Caleb and Tanya's shoulders. Mark glanced at the horizon, face grim.

"Nightfall's nearly here," he muttered. "We can't make it back to the shelter in time, not without risking more encounters like that in the dark."

Tanya shivered, teeth chattering. "So what do we do? Try for partial distance, camp out?"

Leila scanned the area. The truck was still half a mile away if they took a direct route. If they even got to it safely, driving back in pitch black with iced roads was a gamble. "We need cover," she decided. "Somewhere to hole up until dawn."

Caleb pointed to a small cluster of houses across the lot, mostly boarded up or battered by the elements. "We passed them earlier. Maybe we can barricade one for the night."

She nodded, relief and wariness mingling. "All right. Let's move fast, see if any house is intact enough to keep out the cold."

Guided by the last hints of dusk, they trudged through ankle-deep drifts. Eventually, they found a derelict two-story house on the edge of the old clinic property. Its roof sagged in places, windows boarded in a patchwork of hammered planks and old signs. Still, it looked more secure than the other burnt or collapsed structures around.

Mark and Kai took the lead, prying open a side door. Inside, the stench of mold and stale air assaulted them, but the walls stood. Even better, there was an old fireplace in the living room. With minimal rummaging, they found some leftover furniture to break up for kindling. The group quickly barricaded the doors and windows from inside, ensuring no stray walkers could slip in overnight.