Zombie survivor

[89] Rolling out

The air was crisp and cold, the kind of chill that cut through even the thickest jackets and sank into your bones. The sky was still a deep navy blue, tinged faintly with the orange glow of the approaching dawn. Jean and the others trudged toward the rendezvous point, their breath visible in the freezing air. Their boots crunched against the frost-covered ground as they approached the convoy of trucks parked at the edge of the camp.

Garrett stood near the largest of the vehicles, his rugged frame silhouetted against the faint light of the rising sun. A cigarette dangled from his lips, the ember glowing faintly as he inhaled. Around him, a handful of other scavengers were loading supplies onto the trucks, their faces grim and focused.

"Right on time," Garrett said as the teens approached, his gravelly voice cutting through the silence. He flicked his cigarette onto the ground and crushed it under his boot. "That's good. Means you might actually have a shot out there."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Chloe muttered, rolling her eyes as she adjusted the straps of her pack.

Garrett ignored her, motioning toward the trucks. "Load your gear onto the second truck. Don't take all fucking day."

The group moved quickly, hoisting their scavenger packs, weapons, and supplies into the truck's bed. The gear was basic—too basic for the danger they were about to face—but it was all they had. Pistols, shotguns, crowbars, and a few rusty machetes filled the mix. Brittany struggled to lift her pack onto the truck, and Brad stepped in with a smirk, tossing it up with one hand.

"You're welcome," Brad said smugly, dusting off his hands.

"Don't think that makes us friends," Brittany shot back, narrowing her eyes.

Once the gear was loaded, the group gathered near Garrett, who stood in front of the trucks with his arms crossed. His piercing gaze swept over them, as if sizing up each one for the last time.

"Here's the deal," he said, his tone sharp and no-nonsense. "We're heading into East Kelowna. It's a shitshow out there—zombies everywhere, maybe raiders, too. You've had your training, so I don't need to hold your hands."

"Not like you'd want to," Jordan muttered under his breath. Tyler snickered quietly beside him.

Garrett's eyes snapped to them, silencing their laughter instantly. "You think this is funny, kid? Go ahead and keep cracking jokes when you're being torn apart because you weren't paying attention."

Jordan raised his hands defensively. "Alright, alright. No jokes. Got it."

Garrett continued, his voice steady and commanding. "We're parking near the bridge just outside the city limits. From there, you're on your own. You've got four hours to get in, grab whatever loot you can carry, and get back to the trucks. If you're not back by then, we leave. No exceptions."

"Wait, what?" Brittany said, her eyes widening. "You'd just leave us behind?"

"Damn right," Garrett said coldly. "I'm not sticking around and risking my team because you couldn't manage your time. Four hours. That's it."

"Man's ruthless," Tyler whispered to Evan, who nodded nervously.

Garrett didn't miss the exchange and turned his gaze on Tyler. "You've got a problem with that?"

Tyler shook his head quickly. "Nope. No problem."

"Good," Garrett said. "Now listen up. Once you're out there, you can go wherever the hell you want. Stick together, split up—I don't care. But every second you spend out there is a risk. Don't push your luck."

"And what happens if we run into raiders?" Brad asked, crossing his arms.

"You shoot them before they shoot you," Garrett said bluntly. "Or you run. Either way, it's your call."

Jean stepped forward, his expression serious. "And what about the zombies? Any advice?"

Garrett smirked faintly, though there was no humor in it. "Yeah. Don't let them bite you."

Chloe groaned, rubbing her temples. "Great. So helpful."

Garrett's expression darkened. "You want help? Here's some free advice: stop complaining and focus. You're not special out there. You're just another target. The ones who survive are the ones who shut up and do what needs to be done."

The group fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in. Garrett let the silence hang for a moment before motioning toward the trucks. "Get in. We're leaving in five."

The teens exchanged uneasy glances before climbing into the trucks. The convoy was made up of three vehicles: a larger truck carrying supplies, and two smaller ones meant to transport the scavengers. Jean, Akira, Brad, Chloe, and Jordan piled into the back of the second truck, while Tyler, Brittany, Evan, Trev, and Blake climbed into the third.

The truck bed was cold and uncomfortable, the metal floor biting against their legs as they sat down. Jean glanced around at his friends, noting the tension etched into their faces. Even Jordan, usually the first to crack a joke, was unusually quiet.

Akira, sitting next to Jean, clung to his arm tightly, her expression calm but intense. "We'll be fine," she said softly, almost to herself.

Jean nodded, though he wasn't sure he believed it. "Yeah. We will."

The truck's engine roared to life, and Garrett climbed into the cab of the lead vehicle. With a loud groan of metal and a jolt that nearly knocked them over, the convoy began to move.

As the trucks rumbled out of the camp and toward the unknown dangers of East Kelowna, the group sat in tense silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The reality of what they were about to face loomed large, but for now, there was nothing they could do but wait.

Four hours. That was all the time they'd have to survive, scavenge, and return. For some of them, it might be enough. For others... it might be their last countdown.

Q: What would you do to calm yourself down?