Chapter 24: The Hunt Begins

Chapter 24: The Hunt Begins

The morning sun barely pierced the clouds as the group made their way deeper into the heart of the city. The streets were eerily quiet, the familiar hum of life replaced by the distant sounds of decay and destruction. Ethan's senses were on high alert, every step measured, every sound amplified. It was the calm before the storm—a stillness that unnerved him. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching them.

Clara led the way, as always, her movements sharp and confident. Jess and Will flanked the rear, weapons ready, eyes constantly scanning their surroundings. Ethan walked between them, his mind divided. Part of him was focused on the task at hand—finding a new base. But another part of him couldn't escape the thought that they might not make it out alive. The weight of leadership pressed down on him like a vice.

They had spent the morning scavenging, finding little of value. Supplies were scarce, and the usual places they had once raided were either destroyed or overrun by infected. The city was a shell of what it had once been, a crumbling monument to the fall of civilization.

"We're getting close," Clara said, breaking the silence. Her voice was steady, but there was an edge to it, the sound of someone who had seen too much in too little time.

Ethan didn't answer. He only nodded, his eyes focused on the path ahead. There was no time for words. Every minute wasted could be the difference between life and death.

After another hour of walking, they reached an old apartment complex that seemed relatively intact. The building was surrounded by debris and overgrowth, but it looked defensible. The walls were high, and the windows were mostly intact. It could be the place they had been looking for, a home they could defend, a base they could call their own.

Clara stopped in front of the entrance, turning to face the group. "This could be it," she said. "We check it out. No mistakes."

Ethan felt a knot tighten in his stomach. There was something about this place that felt too easy. They had been looking for a safe haven for so long, but he couldn't shake the feeling that this was all too perfect.

"We'll split up," Clara continued. "Cover the first floor. Check for supplies, signs of other survivors, and any infected. Be quick. We don't know how much time we have."

Ethan nodded, adjusting his grip on his makeshift weapon. It wasn't much—just a crowbar he had found in an abandoned tool shop—but it would have to do. He glanced at Jess, who gave him a small nod in return. She was ready. Will cracked his knuckles and smiled grimly. He was always ready.

They moved as a unit, careful and deliberate. Ethan's heart was racing, and he could feel the tension in the air. He had made a decision, and now there was no turning back. If this place was going to work, they had to secure it. And that meant ensuring no one, living or dead, was going to get in their way.

The first floor of the building was quiet, too quiet. It seemed untouched, but the silence only made Ethan more suspicious. He crept along the hallway, his eyes scanning every door, every corner, every shadow.

Jess moved ahead of him, her bow drawn, her steps light. She was the most cautious of them all, always watching, always prepared. Will was a few paces behind, his weapon ready, his eyes constantly shifting.

Ethan stopped outside one of the apartments, his hand hovering over the doorknob. He could hear nothing from inside. No shuffling, no groaning. Just silence. He pushed the door open slowly, the hinges creaking under the weight of years of disuse.

The room was dark, but it wasn't empty. The faint smell of rot hung in the air, and Ethan's stomach churned. There were signs of life—signs that hadn't been cleaned up. A shattered table, overturned chairs, and broken glass scattered across the floor.

But there was something else. Something he hadn't expected.

A man. Or what was left of one.

His eyes were wide open, frozen in a state of fear, his body contorted in an unnatural angle. The infected hadn't gotten to him. No. This man had taken his own life. The sight sent a chill down Ethan's spine, a reminder of the lengths people would go to in the face of the apocalypse.

Jess stepped forward, her face grim. "We need to check the rest of the apartments," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Ethan nodded, swallowing hard. They couldn't afford to linger here. Not with the risk of finding more like this man.

They continued through the building, checking each apartment, each floor. The scene was the same—abandoned rooms, signs of struggle, and the occasional body, some infected, others clearly not. Ethan felt a cold knot in his stomach as they reached the top floor.

At the far end of the hall, there was a set of double doors, large and imposing. Clara motioned for them to stop. Her face was unreadable as she carefully approached the doors.

"Watch yourselves," she muttered, pushing the doors open with slow, deliberate movements.

What they found on the other side made Ethan's blood run cold.

It wasn't a group of survivors, as they had expected. Instead, the room was filled with bodies—piled high, blood pooling on the floor in grotesque rivers. The infected had been here, but not in the way they had anticipated. This wasn't just a feeding ground. It was something else.

"They didn't just die…" Will said, his voice barely above a whisper. "They were… sacrificed."

Ethan's eyes widened as he looked around the room. It was clear now. The walls were adorned with strange markings, symbols he couldn't quite recognize. Someone, or something, had brought these people here, had lined them up, and then—

A low growl echoed from behind them, pulling them from their horror.

It was too late.

The doors slammed shut, and Ethan felt his blood run cold as a voice, distorted and unnatural, hissed from the darkness. "You are not welcome here."

The group spun around, weapons drawn, but the sound of something moving in the shadows made it clear they were no longer in control.

The hunt was on.