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Chapter 82 – Pure Survival
"This way is safe, follow me." Riya held onto Alan, who had a wound on his leg.
There was no one in the narrow alley, and the green and red brick walls on both sides seemed clean of blood, unlike other places.
The alley wasn't wide—barely enough for a car to pass—so it was relatively safe.
Since no one was left to clean the streets, over time, the corners had become filthy. Those who still lived had claimed whatever area their eyes could see, so they had to watch their step carefully.
A faint scream in the distance broke the silence of the alley. Several crows near the entrance startled and flew into the sky, flapping their wings.
Heavy footsteps echoed, and Alan—supported by Riya—hurried forward, glancing back from time to time, alert for any infected in pursuit.
Riya watched with concern as blood continued to pour from the wound in Alan's leg. She wanted to stop and tend to it, but if the people who shot at them found them, the kindest thing they might do was kill them quickly.
They carried whatever weapons they'd been able to grab, and their combat suits protected their bodies—at least for now—from the walkers.
Blood from Alan's leg streamed downward, staining the ground. The way it bled suggested a serious injury, possibly to a vital area, and it needed to be treated as soon as possible.
After running a few more steps, their pace slowed considerably. In the end, Riya decided to find a place to hide.
Alan quickly reached out to brace himself against the wall with one hand and held a pistol in the other, scanning the area with a cold gaze. After catching their breath, they continued on.
Riya was gasping for air and looked behind them, anxiously anticipating something. Soon, her eyes caught sight of a young man running toward them at the end of the alley.
"No… no encounters," she muttered.
"We need help from anyone willing to offer it. If that guy's trouble, I'll kill him." Riya was confident she could handle him alone. Her only priority now was protecting Alan at all costs.
The young man in gray didn't stop until he reached them.
"Are you the soldiers who fell from the helicopter?" The curly-haired boy looked at Riya, unaware that he was actually standing in front of a woman.
Alan pointed a gun at the young man, silently evaluating him. Any wrong move, and he wouldn't hesitate to end his life.
Riya remained silent. She assessed the boy just as Daniel had taught her, hoping to uncover something that would guide her next move.
"I'm running from those people. They killed everyone at my shelter, and now they're chasing me."
Riya looked in the direction the boy had come from and asked, "What's your name?"
"Tomas. You can call me that."
"Let's get out of here, Riya. We need to hide," said Alan, having a good idea of what might be going on.
"What do we do with him?" Riya wanted to know Alan's thoughts about Tomas.
"Let him come with us. He can be our guide." Alan didn't have many options, so he asked Tomas to help him walk while Riya kept watch.
As they moved on, they soon came across another figure. The man wore a white vest on top, but from the waist down, his intestines appeared to be hanging out.
His exposed skin was a dark gray, and a grotesque wound gaped on the right side of his neck.
This walker had been around for quite some time, so they knew that—at least for now—everything was under control.
"Take him out, and let's get out of here..."
Riya nodded, unsheathed her sword, and with a single slash, severed the infected's head from behind.
Crack!
Tomas, watching this, was shocked by the skill of these people. They didn't seem hostile toward strangers—but what he didn't know was that if he made even one mistake, the very hands that held him now would be the ones to end him.