The memory of leaving the camp in Chicago was sharp, etched into my mind like scratches on steel.
"Every day at 9 a.m.," my voice was firm as I handed Carl a walkie-talkie. "Daily check-ins, alright?"
He caught it carefully, his fingers brushing against mine for a brief second. A smile crept across his face as he slipped it into his back pocket. I did the same, securing mine where I could reach it quickly.
"If anything happens, the crucible comes after this camp…the infected finds their way in," I continued, voice low but firm, "you lead the rest of this group straight out of Chicago. And you give us your exact location so we can regroup. Cool?"
Carl nodded, that easy, steady nod of someone who carried responsibility well. A flicker of pride warmed my chest, a small moment of relief. With a smile creeping onto my expression, I turned to walk.
"Wait—"
He called after me, hesitation in his tone.
