The group pressed on, moving fast but careful. The distant thrum of the helicopters had drawn most of the infected toward the heart of the city, but not all of them. Stragglers still lurked nearby, hiding in shadows and broken alleys.
"Get down. Hide, hide," Jaxon hissed, already dropping into a crouch. Ahead, a small group of infected shuffled into view.
Jaxon lay flat against the dirty ground and raised his rifle. Short, controlled shots followed. One by one, the infected fell without a sound.
"Go. I'm right behind you," he urged, eyes never leaving his scope.
This became their rhythm. Sometimes Jaxon cleared the path ahead. Other times, they pressed themselves into shadows and waited for danger to pass. When the numbers were too many, they turned back and took longer routes through broken streets and narrow alleys.
Suddenly, a rapid series of gunshots cracked through the air, echoing off the buildings.
