The morning mist clung to the lowlands like a veil, turning the rivers into silver ribbons of uncertainty. Sofiane led the small group along the edge of the flooded fields, each step careful and deliberate. Waterlogged soil made progress slow, and every snap of a branch echoed across the empty landscape.
Mouna and Julien followed closely, their eyes scanning for both infected and human threats. "These fields are treacherous," Mouna said quietly. "One wrong step and we could sink or get stuck. And the currents near the river are unpredictable."
Sofiane glanced at her, his jaw tight. "I've crossed worse. Stay alert. Trust your instincts. We move silently, no sudden noises."
The fields stretched endlessly, dotted with the remains of abandoned farmhouses. Wooden fences protruded from the water, forming dangerous obstacles. Occasionally, the murmur of distant movement sent the group freezing mid-step. A flock of birds exploded from a dead tree, the noise reminding them that danger could come from anywhere.
Julien broke the tense silence. "I've got a bad feeling about this. Something's waiting for us." He tightened his grip on his makeshift spear.
Sofiane nodded, slowing his pace. "Good. That feeling keeps you alive. Eyes open, ears open, mind open. We react, we don't act first."
Hours passed. The water grew deeper in some places, forcing the group to move single file along narrow ridges. Sofiane's eyes scanned the horizon constantly, looking for signs of their destination: a small abandoned shed he had spotted from a ridge earlier. It was a temporary shelter, but it would give them cover if needed.
Mouna broke a long silence. "Sofiane… do you really think he's safe? The boy? What if—" She stopped abruptly, sensing the tension in the air.
Sofiane placed a steady hand on her shoulder. "We don't think about what if. We survive the present, and that gives us the chance to protect him. Every moment counts. We can't afford doubt now."
Julien's sharp eyes caught movement in the reeds. A pair of infected had spotted them, drawn by the sound of splashing water. They moved slowly, but their gaze was fixed. Sofiane raised his hand. "Wait."
The group pressed against a small rise, hidden behind a cluster of trees. Sofiane drew a small knife, checking the blade with a practiced flick. "We can't fight them here. Too open. We draw them to the drier ground near the shed. It's narrow, easier to defend."
Careful coordination allowed the group to move undetected, inching toward higher ground. The infected followed, stumbling through the water. When they reached the shed, Sofiane kicked a small stack of wooden crates to create noise, drawing the creatures into a confined path. Julien readied his spear, Mouna picked up a broken plank, and together they forced the infected into the trap. Within moments, it was over. Their breaths came heavy, hearts pounding, but no one was hurt.
Sofiane exhaled slowly. "Every step from here matters. This is just the beginning. The boy is waiting. And the world isn't going to make it easy for us."
Mouna nodded, eyes reflecting both fear and resolve. Julien's jaw was set, silent acknowledgment passing between them. In the midst of danger, the bond between them grew—strength forged in survival, trust earned in action.
As they settled into the small shed, Sofiane traced a route on a tattered map. The Netherlands lay ahead, the next challenge approaching. Beyond flooded fields, abandoned towns, and hostile forces, his son waited. And every step brought them closer to him—and the future that Sofiane refused to surrender.
Outside, the mist lifted slightly, revealing the uncertain path ahead, filled with danger, hope, and the promise of reunion.