From the beginning of the apocalypse until today, everyone had been fighting to survive, and now about six months had passed in silence.
The base in the suburbs of Atlanta was in full activity after receiving signals that a nearby shelter had been overrun by walkers. However, the distance was considerable, and they didn't expect to be able to save many survivors.
As everyone mobilized, screams echoed in different places. A small part of Atlanta had been secured by the S.C.T. community, which continued to expand constantly.
Even so, many of Jason's people rushed out to help as many as possible in this situation. After all, it was the only thing they could do.
On a road in the suburbs of Atlanta, a group of survivors was running in panic after what they had just experienced.
It was a small group of six people: three men and three women, all dressed in dirty, tattered clothes. Their faces reflected various emotions, revealing fear and desperation.
They knew very well that none of that mattered at the moment because a massive horde of walkers was chasing them. Additionally, on both sides of the road, more scattered walkers were joining the group that was hunting them down.
A woman running at the front of the group finally lost her pace and fell to the ground. Seeing this, several people around her hurried to help her up, supporting her so she could keep running.
"Ah! I can't go on anymore, please, let me go! I really can't keep running, if we continue at this pace, we'll all die!" The woman had felt her foot twist, and now she could no longer keep up. When she realized this, tears began to stream down her face, feeling truly miserable about what had happened.
"Keep running, Jazmín! If you stop now, you'll die! Keep running!" shouted the man helping Jazmín while continuing to run.
Although everyone was exhausted, their desire to live pushed them forward despite the difficulties. At that moment, a young man leading the group suddenly shouted and pointed ahead: "We have to enter the forest! This place is too dangerous, and at this pace, we'll never outrun the walkers. We need to take a detour—we have to go in now!"
After speaking, the young man raised the machete in his hand, took the lead, and rushed into the nearby forest. Along the way, spotting a walker nearby, he lifted his machete and severed its head as it approached him. He looked around warily again, only to discover that more and more walkers were closing in on them from all directions.
"Ramón! There are too many walkers ahead of us, we can't take this lightly. For now, let's go back the way we came!" A young woman behind Ramón advised while gripping her machete tightly.
In this situation, she was already at her limit, and that was because she hadn't eaten. Running at this pace for so long had drained all the energy from her body, and dizziness, along with physical collapse, suddenly hit her. The only thing she could do now was gasp for air.
At that moment, two men were helping a woman with a twisted ankle behind them. Just behind the entire group, there was a young girl also holding a knife, though she seemed barely able to grip it properly.
Seeing that the boy leading the group had stopped, the four people following him also halted to see what had happened.
"Ramón, why aren't we moving forward?" asked a man carrying Jazmín in an anxious voice, noticing that Ramón had stopped advancing.
Hearing this, Ramón smiled bitterly and motioned for everyone to look around so they could understand what was happening. Before they could even realize it, many walkers had continued advancing through the trees around them.
The forest was deep, but with their exhaustion and evident fatigue, it was impossible for them to escape safely from this danger. There were large trees, but no one could think of a quick solution.
"You crazy bastard, Ramón! We all followed you, and look where we ended up! Now we're dead because of you!" shouted a man with an anxious expression upon seeing that they had no way out.
Ramón felt his strength leave his hands, his blood run cold, and his heart start pounding hard. He dropped the machete from his hand, and overwhelmed by despair, all he did was sit on the ground, not responding to the voices accusing him.
Jazmín, who was being supported, saw that Ramón had given up and, with difficulty, walked up to him, grabbing him by the collar while shouting furiously: "You damn idiot, are you just giving up like that?! We all agreed to survive until the end! Get your damn ass off the ground right now and fight the walkers!"
"Jazmín, stop right now! What's the point of fighting now?"
The other guy who had been helping Jazmín also spoke at that moment. He first looked around and pointed to where there were fewer walkers.
"Stop arguing! There are very few walkers in that direction—let's run that way! Maybe we still have a chance to get out alive if we start moving now!"
At that moment, there was a glimmer of hope in front of them, and everyone wanted to cling to it however they could. A powerful force surged from within them, even in those who had already begun to give up. They moved again and ran toward the direction that had been pointed out.
Crack!
"Ahhh! Go to hell, you bastard!"
"Argh!"
The few survivors did their best to take down a dozen more walkers in anger, but they soon discovered that the walkers were becoming denser, blocking their path forward.
They had no strength left, and the six of them formed a circle, planning to take down as many walkers as they could before dying.
"Ahhhhhh!"
Just as Ramón let out a battle cry, raising his machete to strike down the walker approaching him, a burst of gunfire echoed through the forest. The gunfire was intense, indicating that a large group of people was shooting at the same time.
Everyone was stunned and huddled together as much as possible to avoid getting hit, but soon they realized that the walkers approaching them were exploding in clouds of black blood above their heads before collapsing one by one.
In less than a minute, over a hundred walkers had been wiped out, and they didn't last more than ten breaths standing.
The small group of six looked in the direction of the gunfire, and what they saw was a squad of soldiers in military uniforms, wearing helmets with masks, walking toward them.
Among them, the leader was a tall, fair-skinned man.
The leader looked at all the fallen walkers and then at the group. He took the radio from his vest and pressed the button to communicate:
"Central! This is the captain of the ninth exploration squad. We have encountered a group of six survivors, apparently in optimal condition."
"Zz… This is Central, received! Captain, you and the ninth squad return safely to base."
"Zz… Understood, Central!"
The man took a step forward, stopping five meters away from them, carefully observing the six distressed figures before speaking in a calm tone:
"If you want to live, all of you must drop your weapons and follow us!"
All the soldiers had a bandana on their left arm, very conspicuous. There were very strange markings, but they could be seen clearly.