In the back seat, Calista studied a wrinkled map.
Sunlight streamed through the window, falling across her pale golden hair like a soft halo. Even in the middle of the apocalypse, constantly on the move, she still carried a striking beauty, as if she came with her own filter.
Beside her, Merle couldn't sit still, running his mouth nonstop.
"This damn heat's got me itching all over. Why the hell didn't we take a transport plane?" he grumbled. Sweat had already soaked through his tank top, outlining the lines of his muscles.
Calista fell silent for a moment, then replied flatly.
"A plane? Even the coordinates for the Sentinel Station entrance were drawn for us by Dr. Jenner. We'll still have to find the exact location ourselves when we get there.
What, you want us to airdrop you into the mountains nearby? And how exactly are we supposed to haul the equipment back? You think there's a runway out there?"
Leah didn't even look up.
"Deal with it, Merle. At least you're alive and able to complain about the weather."
Merle grinned.
"You're right, Leah. Damn good to be alive, especially if it means I get to see my bastard brother again!"
There was both anticipation and unease in his voice.
"Wonder what Daryl's face is gonna look like when he sees I'm still alive. Hell, he might even start crying. Soft bastard."
"Or put an arrow through your head," Carver tossed out from the driver's seat.
"Ha! That's more like my brother!" Merle laughed even louder.
Merle had already made his stance on his former companions clear. Aside from Daryl, he didn't care about any of them.
Given the chance, he'd even go beat the hell out of Rick and T-Dog.
Calista folded the map and glanced out the window.
Across the barren fields, a few walkers staggered along, slow and clumsy like puppets on strings.
The radio suddenly crackled, breaking the quiet inside the car.
"Two o'clock direction, 200 yards. Three walkers," Danny reported calmly. "They're crossing the field."
"Copy. Keep monitoring the road," Calista replied.
Through the window, they could see them clearly. Two men and a woman, maybe once farmers from nearby. Now they were nothing but rotting shells, driven by a mindless hunger for flesh.
"Do we take them out?" Mike's voice came over the radio from the lead vehicle.
"No need. Save the ammo," Calista said. "They haven't noticed us. Keep moving."
The convoy maintained its speed and quickly left them behind.
This was normal now. Scattered walkers were like weeds along the roadside. Everywhere, but not worth worrying about unless they gathered into a herd.
In the lead vehicle, Lorenzo watched with interest.
"So this is how you do things? Just ignore the walking dead?"
Turner snorted.
"Unless they're in the way. Bullets aren't unlimited, handsome."
"Where I come from, every threat is eliminated completely," Lorenzo said, smoothing his sleeve, his tone carrying a faint sense of superiority. "Prevention is better than cure. And with me here, you'll never have to worry about running out of ammo."
Danny lifted his head and shot the Italian a cold look.
"Where you come from is gone. Remember? Your territory's nothing but ruins and walkers now."
Lorenzo's expression darkened for a split second, then smoothed out again.
"A temporary setback."
A few quiet snickers followed.
In the second vehicle, Merle rolled down the window and spat outside.
"I'm fucking roasting. This damn weather's suffocating."
He squinted, thinking back to Rock Fortress.
"Wasn't even this hot in the Great Smoky Mountains."
Calista felt it too.
It was not just the heat. There was a pressure in the air, something heavy that made it hard to breathe.
The convoy crossed a small bridge. Below, the stream had almost dried up, leaving only a few muddy puddles.
On the roadside, an overturned school bus lay in a ditch. Its windows were shattered, its body rusted and stained with dried blood.
"Mike, slow down," Calista ordered suddenly.
Carver immediately eased off the brakes, keeping a safer distance from the vehicle ahead.
Everyone tightened their grip on their weapons, scanning the surroundings.
Several minutes passed. Nothing happened except the wind rustling through the grass.
"Looks clear, Calista," Carver said at last.
Calista nodded, but her brows remained slightly furrowed.
"Keep moving. Stay alert."
As the convoy passed the bus, they could all see movement inside.
At least a dozen walkers were trapped in there, their rotting faces pressed against the windows, silently snarling.
"School bus turned into a walker trap," Merle sneered. "Kids' nightmare come true."
The joke landed flat. No one laughed.
Bossie's voice came through the radio.
"Calista, I'm picking up scattered heat signatures along the route. Just isolated walkers, no signs of large clusters."
"Keep monitoring, Bossie," Calista replied. "We don't know if this abnormal weather is affecting their behavior."
"Understood."
The convoy kept moving. Every now and then, bones by the roadside reminded them of what the world had become.
In the quiet, Lorenzo's voice came over the radio again, clearly meant for everyone.
"Calista, I've always been curious. How did you manage to build and lead a community in an environment like this? Especially as a young woman."
Leah's lips tightened into a hard line. Carver's grip on the wheel tightened until his knuckles went pale.
Calista raised an eyebrow.
"Lorenzo, survival has nothing to do with gender or appearance. Focus on your job and stop bringing up irrelevant nonsense."
Lorenzo smiled faintly, almost as if he enjoyed being shut down.
"Of course, Calista. Just curiosity."
Once the channel fell quiet, Leah muttered under her breath.
"Does that Italian bastard think he's at a cocktail party?"
Carver glanced at Calista in the rearview mirror, his voice low.
"Want me to remind him, Calista?"
Calista shook her head.
"No need. We need his skills. As long as he follows the rules, we can ignore the rest."
Merle let out a snort.
"If you ask me, he's begging for a beating. One arm's enough for me to knock that pretty boy senseless."
Calista didn't respond. She simply looked out the window.
A road sign ahead showed they were about to enter Georgia.
They were getting closer to their destination.
When Merle started up again, complaining about the heat, Calista ordered the convoy to slow.
Her calm voice came through the comms.
"There's an old gas station about a mile ahead. We'll stop for fifteen minutes. Hydrate, check the vehicles. Stay alert."
"Copy that."
Acknowledgments came in one after another.
Soon, a run-down gas station came into view.
Two rusted fuel pumps stood like tombstones. Most of the convenience store's windows and doors were shattered, and the walls were covered in faded graffiti.
A typical rural American gas station.
Now reduced to nothing but silence and decay.
...
If you'd like to support my work and unlock advanced chapters, you can follow me on p-@-treon.
p-@-treon/GhostParser (40 Chapters Ahead)
You can also follow as a free member to read a few advanced chapters.