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Blood.

Gunpowder.

Move.

Move.

Move.

I force one step.

Too late.

Leon twists, slams the infected’s head into the truck window, and drives his hatchet into its skull before I reach him.

The body drops between us.

I stop with my crowbar raised, breath ragged, useless adrenaline burning through every limb.

I wanted to help.

I didn’t.

Not fast enough.

No disappointment. No frustration.

That almost makes it worse.

His hand lifts, like he wants to reach for me, but he stops before he does.

Trainer Leon comes back before anything softer can.

The town still groans behind us. Wind rattles broken signs. Somewhere, glass shifts and falls. The path to the woods is clear.

“Leon,” I whisper.

A distant moan carries over from town.

Closer than before.

I flinch before I can stop myself.

He sees that too.

He gestures toward the trees.

Move.

So we run before the undead can catch our trail and follow it back to everyone else.

SIX

BACK TO DAMN REALITY

LEON

Too close.