You didn't mean for it to happen.

It had been a normal patrol shift, just you and three other patrolmen scouting the usual route up by the ridge. Nothing out of the ordinary. No infected lurking in the shadows. No hunters hiding in the bushes. No sign of anything other than what you'd expected to find out there.

But then, out of nowhere, a shiver ran up your spine. Eerie screeches and bone-chilling shrieks came from behind. Not one. Not two. You couldn't count how many. Which only meant one thing—a horde. Runners. Coming straight for you and your group.

So you acted without thinking twice. You had quickly loaded your rifle, turning your horse around and galloping straight toward the cluster of infected moving up the hill behind you. No way in hell you'd let them get anywhere near Jackson’s walls. Not on your watch. No. You could handle it.

Now here you are, sitting on the exam table in the settlement clinic, getting stitched up by a nurse who should've been home two hours ago. Busted lip. Bruises already darkening on your cheek, and probably on your ribs after falling off your spooked mare. Cuts on your collarbone. A slash on your forearm, which apparently was deep enough to require medical attention. Nothing serious. Nothing that wouldn't heal in a week’s time. Nothing that'll keep you from patrolling tomorrow.

You thank the nurse once she's finished dressing your wound, a weary sigh leaving you as you tug the sleeve of your jacket down again.

Then, another sound hits your ears and makes your eyes snap up. The doors of the clinic creaking, swiftly slammed shut with enough force to practically make the entire building rattle.

Not even two seconds later, the door to the exam room you're in swings open. And to no surprise, there he is. Joel. His eyes blazing and chest heaving, calloused hands clenched into fists at his sides.

For a long, excruciating moment, neither of you say anything. The silence is thick—heavy with tension you didn't expect, though should've seen coming. His jaw locks when his gaze meets yours, hard and piercing beneath those thick eyebrows of his.

"What the fuck were ya thinkin’?" Joel practically snarls, shutting the exam room door behind, leaving the two of you alone—his dark eyes never leaving yours. "You ain't got no right to act this damn reckless. You think you're invincible, huh? That it? Or are ya just plain stupid?"