I jerk my head in a nod and follow while keeping my footfalls as quiet as possible. However, due to how overgrown the woods are, the going is slow and we have to pick our way through thick brambles and bushes that are intent on taking their pound of flesh from me. By the time we reach the edge of the camp, my arms and legs are bloody and stinging with small scrapes and punctures. Somehow Rhys avoided the worst of it, so he looks almost untouched.
Lucky prick.
He holds up his hand, signalling me to stop. I sidle up next to him as he crouches in a nearby bush and scans the camp that sprawls in front of us.
Several fields stretch out in front of us, some in the middle of being sown, while others are untouched. To one side is an orchard, completely barren of fruit and leaves. Winding their way through the fields are at least ten guards, grouped into pairs with one of the pair wielding a gun of some type, while the other has a bat, knife or golf club as their weapon.Directly in front of us is a watchtower, complete with a bored-looking guard and his rifle.
Rhys curses under his breath. “They’re more organised than I was expecting,” he murmurs, his voice almost too loud in the quiet stillness of the forest.
I grunt in agreement, wondering how the fuck we’re going to sneak past these guards without being detected and shot. At least we’ve avoided any zombies on our way here. I can only hope Ollie and Alex are as lucky.
“Why don’t we sneak through the orchard?” I point toward it, seeing that none of the guards seem interested in delving between the trees. “All we need to do is scale that small fence and we should have access to that barn next to it.”
Rhys studies the orchard and barn for a moment before nodding. “Sounds good. Follow close.” He moves before he’s even finished speaking.
I hurry after him, trying my best to keep to the shadows as we make our way through the forest to the small fence that surrounds the orchard. Climbing over the fence is trickier than expected because it’s covered in barbed wire, but we make it over without gouging ourselves.
As we weave through the trees, I can’t help but wonder why the guards aren’t patrolling this part of the camp. It’s easy enough to get inside, even with the barbed wire, so why aren’t they concerned about someone escaping through here?
A low rumbling and inhuman groaning answers my silent question. My breath catches in my throat and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end.
Oh shit.
Bright eyes shine in the darkness moments before four zombies race toward us, closing the distance in seconds. Rhys curses as one creature slams into him while another goes for me. I have only moments to free my knife from its sheathe before it’s on me.
It claws at me, its nails biting into my skin and tearing at my clothes as it snaps yellowed teeth at me. I barely dodge its bite before slamming my knife into its eye socket. The thing collapses to the ground moments before another takes its place. The second zombie slams into me, causing me to lose balance and stumble to the ground. It follows me, the stench of decomposition so strong my eyes water as the creature growls and snarls at me.
“Theo!” Rhys calls from somewhere behind me.
I curse as I try and fail to kick the zombie off me, my foot instead sinking into the rotting corpse with no effect. The creature grabs my arm with its powerful grip and tugs it toward its jaws, while pinning the hand with my knife against my chest. I fight to break free, but it’s too fucking strong.
Oh, hell fucking no. I’m not dying like this.
With little room to manoeuvre, I slam my elbow as hard as I can against the creature’s skull. Thankfully, I avoid its gaping mouth and the hold it has loosens. It’s just enough for me to wiggle the hand with my knife free and, with all of my strength, I slam the blade into the zombie’s skull. It collapses on top of me. Truly dead.
And just in time for Rhys to rush over to me, covered in black gore and blood. “Are you bit?” he barks as he shoves the zombie off me with a wince.
I suck in a shaky breath as my body trembles, the adrenaline fading now that the threat is gone. I glance down at my arms, thankful to seethat even though they’re scratched to fuck, there aren’t any bite marks. Thank fuck only a bite can pass on the virus. “No, I’m good,” I answer before looking Rhys over. “You?”
“Also good,” he says, but his voice is strained. And that’s when I notice the fresh blood seeping through his jacket.
I shove myself to my feet and rip the jacket from his shoulders, ignoring his protests. “Fuck. You ripped the stitches in your shoulder?”
“It’s not a big deal. I’ll live.” He tries to shrug me off, but I don’t let him, causing him to scowl at me. “Theo, we don’t have time for you to stitch me back up.”
“I know, but I need to see how bad it is,” I tell him as I tear off his jacket and shirt and then unwind his bandages.
With the wound exposed, I grab a small torch from my pocket and shine it on his shoulder. Thankfully, it’s not as bad as I was expecting. Only a few of the stitches have ripped, which is where most of the blood is coming from. I knew this idiot wouldn’t be able to get through tonight without ripping at least some of his stitches out. Good thing I came prepared.
“Alright. I need you to hold the torch and shine it on your shoulder while I clean and dress it.” I keep my voice stern and give him a look that tells him if he even tries to protest, I will kick his ass. Rhys presses his lips together but doesn’t argue as he takes the torch and shines it where I need it.
Cleaning and bandaging is quick and while I’d prefer to restitch him, he’s right that we don’t have time. Ollie and Alex will be waiting anxiously for our signal so they can join the fight. So once I’ve dressed the wounds, I take my torch back from him and let him put his shirt and jacket back on. Luckily, our fight with the zombies has alerted none ofthe guards and there doesn’t seem to be any more infected waiting to attack us.
Probably should have checked for that before I started stripping him.
“Do you think they have any more zombies stashed anywhere else?” I ask, then shudder at the thought of having to fight another one in the dark.
“Fuck, I hope not,” Rhys grunts as he peers around the orchard. “Come on. We still need to locate where the captives are kept during the night.”
