Emerging from the dim underground tunnel, Bill and Francis stepped back into the suffocating atmosphere of the National Forest. The air was thick with humidity, mingling with the scent of decay that clung to the trees. Bill trudged forward, each step a reminder of the toll Emmett’s attack had taken on him, the ache in his side a constant companion.
“Let’s keep moving,” he grunted, trying to hide the pain that was beginning to gnaw at his focus.
Francis glanced back, noting the grim determination etched across Bill’s features. “You sure you’re good?” he asked, the concern slipping into his usually cocky demeanor.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just keep your eyes open,” Bill replied, his voice clipped.
They followed a narrow pathway through a gully, shadows dancing around them. As they reached a service building connected to the tunnel, they quickly searched for any supplies that might aid their escape. The quiet was deceptive, amplifying the rustle of leaves and distant infected sounds.
Once they had gathered some provisions, they descended a flight of stairs that led back to the tracks, the light above flickering ominously.
“Almost out,” Francis encouraged, stepping into the open air. Ahead, a signal gantry loomed, casting a long shadow. “We could bring that bridge down and clear our path.”
Bill considered the suggestion, reluctant yet aware of the urgency. “Fine, but we need to be quick about it.”
As they approached a service building nearby, Francis found a crowbar. “Here goes nothing!” he exclaimed, and together they released the brake on a train car, sending it crashing into the bridge.
But as the metal groaned and the bridge began to fall, an alarm blared to life, shattering the uneasy stillness around them.
“Damn it! We’ve got to move!” Bill shouted, adrenaline surging through his veins.
Infected began to flood in from the surrounding woods, pouring toward them like a dark wave. Initially, they were able to fend them off, but the horde quickly swelled, seemingly drawn by the noise.
“Bill, we need to get to high ground!” Francis urged, fighting off a couple of common infected clawing at him.
But as they pushed through the crowd, Bill found himself momentarily overwhelmed. The pain from Emmett's earlier attack was slowing him down, each movement a reminder of his injuries. He fought off a few infected, but as he turned to check on Francis, a familiar growl resonated nearby.
“Watch out!” Francis yelled as a hunter leaped from the shadows, aiming for Bill.
Bill barely had time to react as the creature lunged at him, sharp claws poised to strike. In a split second, Francis barreled into the hunter, shoving it away from Bill just in time. The impact sent both men sprawling, and Bill could feel the sharp sting of his side deepening, a fresh pain flaring with the sudden movement.
“Get up, Bill!” Francis shouted, scrambling to his feet and fending off more infected. “We can’t stop now!”
With renewed urgency, they fought their way through the thickening horde. Bill’s breaths were labored, the wound on his side becoming more apparent as he felt the heat of blood soaking through his shirt.
“Just a little further!” Francis urged, desperation rising in his voice.
Finally, they broke free from the throng, sprinting toward the cabin that awaited them. They stumbled inside and slammed the door shut, locking it just as the infected pressed against the walls outside.
Francis turned to Bill, his expression a mix of relief and worry. “We need to take a breather. You’re bleeding, and I’m not letting you keep pushing like this.”
“I’m fine,” Bill insisted, though the tremor in his voice betrayed him.
“No, you’re not,” Francis countered firmly, stepping closer. “We can find the military post later. You’re more important right now.”
Bill’s heart twisted at the intensity of Francis’s gaze. “I’ll be okay,” he replied, his resolve wavering right under the weight of Francis’s concern.
“No. We’re going to take a moment, and that’s final,” Francis said, breaking character as he laid a hand on Bill’s shoulder. “We can’t go anywhere if you collapse on me.”
Bill sighed, the fight leaving him. “Alright, fine. Just a short rest,” he conceded, his voice softer now.
As they leaned against the walls of the cabin, the distant sounds of the infected outside reminded them of the reality they faced. But for now, in the dim light, they had each other—and that was enough.
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Cutting Losses
FanfictionIn a world devastated by the infected, Francis and Bill are all that's left of their group. Zoey and Louis are gone, leaving behind an emptiness that both men struggle to cope with. As they push forward through the ruins of what used to be, Francis...
