The forest floor crunched faintly beneath Daniel Wolfe’s boots, each step measured and steady. He scanned the undergrowth ahead, his breath forming shallow clouds in the frigid air. His hand gripped the makeshift spear—a sharpened rebar pole wrapped with duct tape. The weight of it was comforting, even if he doubted its effectiveness against the things that lurked out here.

A branch snapped somewhere behind him, sharp and sudden. Daniel froze, his heartbeat quickening as he strained his ears. His fingers tightened around the spear.

Not tonight. Please, not tonight.

The world had fallen apart two years ago, but Daniel’s instincts still carried the edge of an ER on a Friday night. Back then, the chaos was confined to blood-soaked gurneys and screaming families in the waiting room. Now, the chaos was everywhere, and silence was more dangerous than noise.

Breathe. Think.

The old mantra helped keep the panic at bay. He crouched low, his mind racing through possible threats. A lone scavenger? An animal? Or worse—one of them? His jaw clenched as he thought of the infected, their hollow eyes and grotesque, shambling forms burned into his memory.

Daniel shook the thought away. He couldn’t afford to freeze. Staying alive demanded action. He rose slowly, his knees groaning in protest, and pivoted toward the sound, spear poised. The forest was a smear of shadows, the trees skeletal against the faint moonlight.

Another snap. Closer this time.