CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: The Haunted Survivors & The Stalkers’ New Threat

The crackling of leaves stirred Jane from her sleep.

She sat up quickly, her heart pounding, reaching for her rifle. Something was moving in the trees.

Jace was already up, his shotgun aimed, eyes sharp in the dark.

The rustling grew louder—something big was coming.

Jane gritted her teeth and steadied her aim. "Jace…"

"I see it."

A figure emerged from the shadows. Then another.

Jane's finger tightened on the trigger.

"Wait! Don't shoot!" a desperate voice called out.

Jace frowned. "Step into the light—slowly."

Two young, disheveled figures stepped forward, their faces pale with exhaustion.

A man and a woman, bruised, wide-eyed, trembling.

Jace lowered his gun slightly but kept it ready. "Who the hell are you?"

The man raised his hands. "We—we're not a threat."

"We just… we just barely made it out," the woman added, her voice shaking.

Jane narrowed her eyes. "Made it out of what?"

The man exhaled shakily. "That—that house."

Jace and Jane exchanged glances.

"What house?" Jace asked, stepping forward.

The man wiped sweat from his brow. "There was an old mansion deep in the woods… we thought it was safe—but it wasn't."

Jane's grip tightened on her rifle. "What happened?"

The woman shuddered. "There was an old woman. We don't know if she was real or if she was… something else."

The man swallowed hard. "She played tricks on us. Messed with our minds. We couldn't leave—until now."

Jace studied them carefully, looking for signs of deceit. But their haunted expressions told him everything.

"Where are you headed?" he finally asked.

The man hesitated, then looked at the woman. "We—we don't know."

Jane sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Great."

Jace glanced at their sunken eyes and trembling hands. They looked starved.

Without a word, he reached into his bag and pulled out dried bread.

"Eat," he said, tossing it toward them.

The woman caught it, her eyes welling up in gratitude. "Thank you."

Jace crossed his arms. "You two can stick with us—for now. But stay out of the way, and don't slow us down."

The man nodded quickly. "We won't."

Jane sighed. "Alright. Let's pack up. We move at first light."

The journey was long, the morning sun burning through the mist as they rode on horseback.

Jace led the way, Jane beside him, while the newcomers walked behind, still shaken from their ordeal.

They moved in silence, each lost in thought—until they finally arrived.

A massive structure loomed in the distance.

Jace narrowed his eyes. "An abandoned prison?"

Jane nodded grimly. "This is it. The Stalkers' new base."

Jace scanned the fortified walls, noting the makeshift barricades and high watchtowers.

"Smart choice," he muttered. "Locked gates, reinforced walls… hard to break in, harder to break out."

Jane adjusted her grip on her rifle. "Let's get closer."

They dismounted and crept toward the perimeter, keeping low.

Jace pulls out his binoculars, scanning the area.

Then—he froze. 

"What is it?" Jane asked.

Jace slowly lowered the binoculars.

"Something's wrong."

Jane took the binoculars and looked through them.

Her stomach dropped.

Inside the prison yard, walkers moved differently.

Not slow. Not mindless.

They were jerking, twitching—faster.

More aggressive.

Jane's breath caught. "What the hell?"

Jace's jaw tightened. "They've done something to them."

The man from the haunted house gulped. "What does that mean?"

Jane lowered the binoculars. "It means… we just found something worse than walkers."

Jace exhaled, eyes fixed on the nightmare unfolding before them.

"Looks like the Stalkers just raised the stakes."