The System's warning – AMBUSHERS DETACHED... MOVING RAPIDLY... INTERCEPT TRAJECTORY! – was a silent scream in Ethan's mind. There was no time for subtlety, no time for carefully crafted explanations to Glenn.
"They saw us!" Ethan hissed, his voice a raw burst of urgency. He grabbed Glenn's arm, already pulling him away from the alley mouth. "Two of them, pharmacy guys, rifle and handgun! Coming this way, fast! We need to run, now!"
Glenn, backpack heavy with scavenged goods, didn't waste a second questioning. The absolute certainty and raw alarm in Ethan's voice were contagious. He'd seen Ethan's "good eye" and "luck" in action already. He broke into a sprint alongside Ethan, back into the labyrinthine network of Taylorsville's decaying residential backyards.
[HOSTILE PURSUERS (2) CONFIRMED VISUAL ON YOUR RETREAT. DISTANCE: 80 METERS AND CLOSING. THEY ARE ATTEMPTING TO FLANK VIA PARALLEL STREET. RECOMMENDED EVASION ROUTE: UTILIZE DENSELY PACKED HOUSING BLOCK NORTH-EAST. MULTIPLE OBSTRUCTIONS AND ESCAPE VECTORS.]
"They're trying to cut us off!" Ethan panted, translating the System's intel into a desperate observation as he veered sharply right, pulling Glenn through a gap in a rotted wooden fence. "We need to get through these houses, lose them in the clutter!"
What followed was a desperate, heart-pounding chase. They crashed through overgrown gardens, vaulted crumbling brick walls, and ducked through shadowy carports, the sounds of their pursuers – angry shouts, the occasional thud of a heavy boot – always seeming just a little too close behind. Ethan's lungs burned, his muscles screamed, but the System was a cool, relentless navigator in his mind, highlighting split-second opportunities.
Turn left here – overgrown hedge offers momentary visual break!
Caution: Loose shingles on that shed roof – potential noise trap!
Possible exit: Collapsed section of fence behind blue house!
Ethan shouted these "hunches" and "observations" to Glenn, who, despite his own exhaustion, responded with impressive agility, his lean frame well-suited to this chaotic scramble.
"You got some kind of map of this damn town in your head, Miller?!" Glenn gasped out once, as Ethan led them through a bewildering series of interconnected sheds and lean-tos that the System had identified as a viable, if unconventional, shortcut.
"Just… really don't want to get shot!" Ethan retorted, offering no better explanation. He knew Glenn was watching him, a mixture of reliance and a dawning, deeper suspicion in his eyes. But survival trumped everything.
They heard a shout from behind, closer this time. "See 'em! They went behind the Peterson house!" One of the pursuers clearly knew the local layout better than they did.
[PURSUER PROXIMITY ALERT! HOSTILE (RIFLE) 30 METERS, DIRECTLY BEHIND. HOSTILE (HANDGUN) ATTEMPTING FLANKING MANEUVER, 45 METERS TO YOUR LEFT FLANK.]
[OPPORTUNITY: DISTRACTION. WEAKENED PERIMETER WALL OF ADJACENT PROPERTY CONTAINS THREE TRAPPED WALKERS. A SIGNIFICANT NOISE OR BREACH THERE COULD DIVERT PURSUER ATTENTION.]
They were being funneled. As they burst into another backyard, this one with a dilapidated swimming pool half-filled with black, stagnant water, Ethan saw the wall the System indicated. Three Walkers were listlessly clawing at the other side of the weathered brickwork.
"Glenn, that wall!" Ethan yelled, pointing with his bat. "If we can knock it down, those things will keep our friends busy!"
Glenn didn't need convincing. Together, they slammed their shoulders into the crumbling brickwork. It groaned, swayed, then collapsed inwards with a dusty roar, revealing the three snarling Walkers, who immediately spilled out towards the sounds of their pursuers. Screams of surprise and anger, followed by the distinct crack of a rifle shot, erupted from behind them.
"That's our cue!" Ethan yelled, and they scrambled over a chain-link fence, not daring to look back.
They ran, fueled by adrenaline, for another ten minutes, the System confirming the pursuers were now engaged with the walkers and their pursuit had broken off. Finally, lungs aching, they reached the denser woods bordering Taylorsville, the sounds of the town fading behind them. They collapsed at the base of a large oak, gasping for air.
[PURSUIT SUCCESSFULLY EVADED. HOSTILES NO LONGER TRACKING. IMMEDIATE THREAT SUBSIDED.]
[STAMINA: CRITICALLY LOW. RECOMMEND SHORT REST AND HYDRATION.]
"Holy… hell," Glenn panted, wiping sweat and grime from his face. He looked at Ethan with a new level of awe, mixed with something unreadable. "That… that was some fancy running, Miller. And that wall… damn. You just knew those things were behind it?"
Ethan, fighting for breath, just shrugged, taking a long pull from his water bottle before offering it to Glenn. "Heard 'em groaning earlier when we passed that way. Figured it was worth a shot. Lucky again, I guess."
Glenn took the water, his eyes still fixed on Ethan. "Yeah. Lucky." The word was laced with doubt now, but also a grudging respect. He didn't press further. They had survived. For now, that was enough.
The journey back to the highway camp was made in a tense, near-silent state of heightened alertness. Every rustle of leaves, every distant bird call, made them jump. The scavenged food in their backpacks felt like a heavy, hard-won prize.
As they finally broke through the tree line, the familiar, ugly sight of the gridlocked Highway 316 came into view, the Winnebago RV a distant, reassuring landmark. They were almost back.
But as they got closer, an uneasy feeling settled over Ethan. The usual sounds of the camp – the low murmur of voices, the clatter of Dale working on something, even Carl or Sophia's occasional laughter – were absent. An unnatural quiet hung over their small enclave, a quiet that felt more menacing than the usual symphony of the dead.
[APPROACHING HIGHWAY CAMP. UNUSUAL LACK OF AUDIBLE HUMAN ACTIVITY. THERMAL SIGNATURES CONSISTENT WITH GROUP PRESENCE, BUT STRESS INDICATORS ARE ELEVATED ACROSS MULTIPLE INDIVIDUALS.]
[WARNING: POTENTIAL CAMP-WIDE DISTRESS SITUATION. PROCEED WITH EXTREME CAUTION.]
Glenn sensed it too. "Something's wrong," he muttered, his pace quickening. "It's too quiet."
They broke into a run, their earlier exhaustion forgotten, a new, cold dread gripping them. As they rounded the last line of cars that formed the camp's outer perimeter, they saw it.
The camp was there, but it was in a state of disarray. Several members of the group, including Dale, Lori, and Carol, were gathered in a tight, anxious knot near the RV, their faces pale and drawn. Shane was pacing angrily, shotgun held at the ready. Amy and Andrea were nowhere to be seen. And the small fire, their beacon of fragile hope, had been scattered, its embers smoldering like dying stars.
Something terrible had happened while they were gone.