Chapter 13: The Breaking Point

The night dragged on, every second thick with tension. Sleep was a distant thought, lost in the haze of uncertainty. No one spoke much after Lee's decision; words felt meaningless in the face of what was coming.

I sat near the window, keeping an eye on the treeline where the flare had gone up. The horde was still out there, moving, shifting, searching. It wouldn't be long before they found us.

Kenny paced behind me, his fingers tapping against the rifle slung over his shoulder. "This is a mistake, you know. We don't even know if Mercer's telling the truth. We could be walking into an ambush."

I glanced at him. "And if we don't trust them? We face the horde alone."

He scoffed but didn't argue further. Deep down, he knew the truth as well as I did. We didn't have the numbers, the firepower, or the supplies to hold out forever.

Lee and Hershel stood near Mercer and Deanna, laying out what little plan we had. "At first light, we send a scout to confirm Mercer's story," Lee said. "We're not moving his people until we're sure."

"I'll go," I volunteered before I could second-guess myself. "If this goes bad, better one of us gets caught in it than all of us."

Lee nodded, though concern flickered in his eyes. "Take Kenny with you. Two's safer than one."

Kenny grumbled but didn't protest.

Mercer exhaled slowly. "Our camp is near the ranger station. Follow the old road west. If you see a red tarp on the station roof, it means we're still holding it. No tarp? Turn back."

It wasn't much to go on, but it would have to do.

---

Dawn crept over the horizon in hues of gray and gold. The air was thick with morning mist as Kenny and I moved through the woods, stepping carefully to avoid crunching leaves or snapping twigs. Every sound—every rustling branch, every distant moan—set my nerves on edge.

"I still don't like this," Kenny muttered.

"You've made that clear," I said, scanning ahead.

The ranger station came into view through the trees, a squat wooden building barely visible through the morning haze. I tightened my grip on my pistol. "See anything?"

Kenny lifted his rifle, peering through the scope. "No movement."

We inched forward. Then I saw it—the red tarp, draped across the roof like a beacon.

"They're still here," I said, relief warring with suspicion. "Let's go."

We approached slowly, weapons ready but lowered. As we neared the entrance, a voice called out. "That's close enough."

A figure stepped from the doorway, rifle in hand. A woman, maybe in her forties, face lined with exhaustion but sharp with focus. Behind her, more figures emerged—eight in total, wary but ready.

"Mercer sent us," I said. "We're here to confirm your story."

The woman studied us for a long moment, then nodded. "Name's Nora. If Mercer's alive, then maybe we still have a shot. We're ready to move when you are."

Kenny exhaled sharply, muttering under his breath. "Let's just hope this isn't the beginning of another damn mistake."

I had a feeling we were about to find out.

---

The journey back was slow and nerve-wracking. We took the long route, cutting through thick underbrush to avoid open paths where the dead might lurk. Nora's group moved efficiently, but exhaustion weighed heavy on them. They had been running for too long, scraping by on limited rations and broken morale.

At one point, a distant groan sent a ripple of unease through us. We froze, listening. The sound was far off, but it was enough to remind us that danger was always near.

"Keep moving," I whispered. "We're too exposed here."

Nora nodded, motioning her people forward. Kenny kept scanning the treeline, his jaw tight.

When we finally neared the shelter, I saw Lee and Hershel waiting near the entrance, weapons ready but lowered. The sight of them sent a wave of relief through me.

"They made it," Lee said, exhaling.

Nora stepped forward, her gaze locking with his. "And now?"

Lee looked at Mercer, then at the rest of us. "Now we see if this alliance holds."