When Emily approached the supply truck as Joel had ordered, she realized something was wrong with the infected.
In the past, as long as she was careful, the infected wouldn't be alerted from far away. But now, not long after she reached the truck, the infected began to appear one after another—and their target was clear: they were coming for the group.
"There are too many! Run!" shouted one of the men before taking off in horror.
"Don't abandon the truck!" Emily shouted. Even though she was one of the weakest, she wanted to fight until the end.
But when she saw many of them running away, she despised them and, with no other option, ran toward a nearby building. She was fighting for different reasons than the rest of her group. She wasn't fighting to survive—she was fighting to make sure her son wouldn't have to depend on anyone but her to stay alive.
That made Emily a remarkably brave woman.
In combat, she had never wielded a machete before—it was ideal for close-quarters fighting—and she wasn't sure if her hands could handle the impact. As she watched the infected getting closer, a trace of fear suddenly crept into her heart.
What if she died?
What would happen to her son? Would they abandon him?
She didn't know, so she did everything she could to avoid the first infected's attack as it charged at her full speed.
Argh!
The attack missed.
Emily ran a few steps and stopped. In truth, she was feeling a little afraid of the infected—not for herself, but for what might happen to her son if she died.
She couldn't believe it. She had killed many infected and had clearly proven that she wasn't afraid of them.
So why was she hesitating now?
Emily thought about it carefully and asked herself: how could she change her situation?
Now she had a weapon—a machete—so she shouldn't have any problems.
"No, I can't make excuses! I have to use the machete and give it my all..." Emily growled under her breath.
There was no way out.
According to the emergency plan, if they couldn't leave by vehicle, they were to take refuge in the mountain, where there were plenty of resources.
Now wasn't the time to retreat.
Emily tightened her grip on the machete and ran again. No matter what happened, she would find out what awaited her the moment the fight began.
Without realizing it, Emily ran past several infected, but using her pistol and machete, she managed to kill a few along the way.
Everything Tommy and Alan had taught her was paying off.
Emily gripped the machete tightly in her hand. Even though she clearly didn't have enough strength, she was still fighting for her life.
She looked at the infected still appearing from outside and knew she was in trouble.
Whether by sound or sight, the infected were obviously much more sensitive than before. She kept running, trying to kill as many as she could before they formed a horde.
But her personal ability was limited, and the infected kept coming in groups. Thirty or forty zombies formed a small cluster and appeared in front of her.
Emily didn't dare advance any farther.
Just now, when she tried to cut one of them, several infected grabbed her by the clothes.
Fortunately, there weren't too many too close to her, or she wouldn't have been able to escape.
Emily touched the coat on her left shoulder that had been bitten by a Stalker.
Thankfully, the protection still held up well.
And then, she heard the sound of a speeding truck.
At the same time, she saw Alan and Tommy, along with Joel and the others, firing assault rifles at the infected.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Knowing they had all come here and were doing everything they could to save her made Emily feel like she could survive.
But Emily didn't know how to deal with the infected in front of her, so she could only back away slowly.
She remembered watching TV before and laughing at those stupid actors and screenwriters who ended scenes in such predictable ways. It was obvious they should've turned around and run. But now, she felt that invisible pressure and didn't want to take her eyes off the infected for even a moment, afraid they'd pounce on her the moment she turned her back.
"Don't be afraid, don't be afraid. Reset, reset." Emily scolded herself fiercely, turned around, and ran quickly—not toward the apartment building, but in the opposite direction.
Emily ran and looked back, hoping to lure the infected away. But when she looked again, she was shocked.
The infected were running at the same speed as her.
Emily didn't dare look back again. She ran as fast as she could. She hoped to lead the infected to a more distant and open area where they could all be killed.