In a quaint town, a grocery store stood, its sign barely hanging, windows boarded up with some cracked, blood-splattered glass.

 

Emmy, clad in a black jacket and brown sweatpants, held a rifle with a pistol in her holster. Ted, sporting a woolly hat, occupied his usual spot, wrapped in a puffy jacket.

 

"This should be quick," Emmy stated. Another woman's voice chimed in, Elaine expressing doubt. Emmy turned to her, nodding. "Not many biters in this area. We got lucky."

 

Concerned, Rose jogged over to join them, brandishing a bolt-action rifle and a knife. She wore a green jacket and black jeans. "What about everyone else? They have to be found somewhere," she pressed, looking for reassurance from Emmy.

 

Giving Rose a small smile, Emmy replied, "Yeah." Elaine echoed with a less certain, "Yeah…" gazing into the forest.

 

Emmy approached the grocery store, peeking inside as the wind whistled. "No biters inside," she declared, attempting to open the door. After some effort, the door flung open, revealing two decaying corpses with bullets in their heads. Rose gasped, Emmy sighed, and they entered.

 

Inside, Rose, Elaine, and Emmy took stock. Low supplies on the shelves, but enough to continue. Emmy started looting, and Elaine joined her. Ted, however, eyed a slightly open tent zipper.

 

Curious, Rose approached the tent. It was orange, slightly dirty and ripped, with blankets strewn about. Rose put her rifle away, drew her knife, and sniffed the air. A putrid smell hit her as she opened the tent with a noise that caused a low growl inside.

 

Her eyes widened at the sight—a little girl, already turned, secured to a white plastic chair with ropes. Rose teared up, reading a nearby note. "Please make sure our little girl joins us. We weren’t able to do it ourselves. We’re so sorry," she read softly.

 

Facing the little biter, wearing a small blue jacket and a white and blue hat, Rose wiped away tears and plunged her knife into the side of its head, ending its suffering. She stood up, leaving the tent. "Don’t go in there," she warned.

 

Emmy observed as Rose hurriedly approached a shelf, gathering supplies while deliberately avoiding the tent.

 

In another area, a private school, all boarded up and secured, stood surrounded by metal gates.

 

"When do you think the others will get back?" a little girl with brown dog ears and a tail, brown hair, and blue eyes asked. "Like uncle!" She looked at Andrew, clad in a hoodie and sweatpants. "Stalker will be back soon with food for all of us to eat," he reassured her with a smile.

 

The little girl nodded. "Alice, go play with the other kids. Okay? I need to go and talk with a few people," Andrew said, patting Alice’s head. She smiled and ran off excitedly.

 

Andrew entered the school. "Hey, Andrew," Julie greeted, a double-barrel shotgun on her back. "Hey Julie," he smiled. She now had her hair tied into a bun. "Any updates on others from the bus?" she inquired. Andrew shook his head.

 

Marcel walked over, holding an unfamiliar girl's hand. "Someone's holding hands," Julie teased.

 

Marcel glanced at Julie, stuck his tongue out, let go of the girl's hand, and patted Andrew’s shoulder. "I think Dobby and Tommy marked a good spot to check for supplies. It’s an old military outpost, overrun to shit. But it has all the supplies we need. MRE’s to last us months, maybe longer. Guns, ammunition, medicine, water, armor, everything we need in case those military nutcases come after us again," he explained, pulling out a map.

 

"Morning, Tara," Julie greeted the girl with dark long hair and purple eyes. "Morning, Julie," she responded with a small smile.

 

"We’ll need to find a few more people to come with me. Stalker's still out there with Raven, Dogface, and Ed," Andrew said. "We have enough people to defend the place, gather a few people and head out. Want me to come with you?" Marcel asked with a snarky grin.

 

"Yeah. Get Patrick and Dolson. I’ll get the others," Andrew replied, smiling and patting Marcel’s shoulder. "I’ll join," Tara declared. "You know how I feel about you leaving," Julie remarked, looking at Marcel.

 

"Your best friend here will make it," Marcel assured her, giving a smile and a bow. Julie smiled back. "Protect him when he’s off his leash, will ya?" She looked at Tara, who punched her shoulder. "You betcha," Tara responded, walking over to Marcel.

 

Andrew walked into the school, entering a classroom with beds. There sat Zach, sporting a makeshift metal arm with a blade attached. "Hey," Zach smiled at Andrew. "Sup, pirate?" Andrew grinned and sat next to him.

 

"Hey," Zach responded. "We are going on a risky supply run. But we need people. Are you in?" Andrew asked. Zach nodded. "I’m always in."

 

Maddy, with slightly longer hair, waved her hands over. "Don’t forget me," she smiled. "I’m coming with you," Maddy declared.

 

"Where’s Jackal and Zoe?" Andrew inquired. "Zoe’s in the bathroom, and Jackal went out to find Mr. Peterson," Maddy replied. Andrew looked at her. "Ah. He’s been missing since trying to chase down Cody and Aya," he mentioned, stretching.

 

"Wonder if we’ll find him?" Andrew pondered, and Maddy shrugged. "After the first 48 hours, they are usually dead," she sighed.

 

Deep in the forest, a group of military soldiers gathered around a campfire, sharing laughter and devouring their meals. “Do you think we are getting closer to them?” One soldier inquired. “They are all split into groups. We’ll tag them down eventually,” another assured.

 

“Do you wonder why we actually do this?” A third soldier questioned. “Orders from Hora,” the first soldier replied, his tone turning stern.

 

“That's an old world. The new world belongs to the dead now,” the questioning soldier asserted. “No. The new word belongs to us now,” a sinister grin stretched across his face.

 

“And for you to question why is a disgrace,” the stern soldier declared, rising slowly, hand reaching for their gun.

 

Abruptly, a shotgun blast shattered the air, exploding the head of the defiant soldier. Blood splattered and gushed, the lifeless body crumpled to the forest floor.

 

The remaining two soldiers pivoted to face a hooded figure with a masked visage. A spas in hand, the figure took aim and fired, swiftly silencing the second soldier.

 

Turning to the soldier who had questioned earlier, the hooded figure muffled their voice, spas raised for emphasis. “Where are the two kids?” The soldier, eyes wide, fumbled for his pistol, breath quickening.

 

“You—” the figure interrupted, spas drawn back, aiming once more. “Black hair boy, brown hair girl, around the same fucking height. The girl is slightly taller.” The soldier gazed up at the figure. “You are with that group, huh?” he inquired.

 

“Don’t avoid the question, boy,” the figure demanded. The soldier sighed. “We saw them go out south, but we lost trace of them a few days ago.”

 

The figure kept the gun trained. “Do you believe me?” The soldier asked, slowly raising his hands. “Yeah,” the figure spoke bluntly and fired the shotgun; the soldier fell to the ground with a slight grunt.

 

Kneeling down, the figure searched the body, retrieving a folded piece of paper. Unfolding it, Mr. Peterson examined what appeared to be a map. “Liar. They were heading west.”

 

“Seems like they are with others though,” Mr. Peterson remarked, pulling down his mask. “Time to go find them.” He stood up, loading shotgun shells in preparation for the pursuit.