Chapter 9: The Scout
The morning fog was a milky shroud, wrapping the camp in a ghostly embrace, the air thick with dust and the metallic tang of Elias's sweat, his throat raw, tasting of stale coffee and fear. He sat on a log, the rough wood biting into his jeans, a can of Vienna sausages cold in his hand, its greasy scent heavy, untouched. His fingers fidgeted with the can's rim, a nervous tic that pulsed with his racing heart, his temples throbbing from the ZACS system's strain, a fire that never dulled. I'm running out of time, he thought, his cynical mind turning over survival odds, a memory flashing—his old boss, pacing before a deadline, his voice sharp, the air thick with urgency. The camp hummed with fragile activity, the clatter of pots and low voices a thin shield against the dark, but Elias's eyes were on the treeline, where pines stood like silent sentinels, their branches scarred with a micro-story—a snapped twig, a faded bootprint, a hiker's ghost from a world long gone.
The Watcher's presence was a phantom, a threat he couldn't name, and Shane's planned sweep was a reckless bullhorn, sure to draw every walker within a mile. I can do better, Elias thought, his fingers relentless on the can, a memory of outsmarting a school rival flashing, the air sharp with triumph. He focused, the HUD flaring blue, a cold pressure behind his eyes, his nose tingling with the threat of a bleed.
[SYSTEM: Scout Command: Z-002 – 20 SP. Balance: 0. Watcher close. Act or hide? Choose fast, genius, or you're dinner.]
The HUD's serious tone was a warning, sharp and urgent, cutting through his thoughts like a blade. Elias sent Z-002, "Steve," into the woods, its decayed form a shadow, its movements a silent probe, a 500-meter arc searching for signs—footprints, broken twigs, anything human. Find them, he thought, his heart pounding, the tic relentless, the can's rim biting his palm. A faint rustle echoed, Z-002's groan barely audible, and Elias's breath caught, his eyes fixed on a swaying branch, a sign of movement where none should be, the air cool against his flushed skin.
"What're you… uh, staring at, Elias?" Shane's voice was a growl, slicing through the fog like a gunshot.
Elias turned slowly, his heart lurching, his fingers tightening on the can, the metal sharp, his breath hitching. Shane stood close, his arms crossed, his shaved head gleaming, his eyes narrow with suspicion, his breath hot with frustration, smelling of coffee and rage. He's looking for a fight, Elias thought, a memory of a barroom standoff flashing, the air thick with tension. He forced a grin, his voice light, sarcastic, a shield. "Just… admiring the fog, man," he said, his words deflecting. "Real scenic out here."
Shane's jaw clenched, his hand running over his scalp, a tic Elias knew too well, his voice low, dangerous. "We're sweeping the perimeter," he said, stepping closer, his eyes burning. "You got something to say, spit it out now."
Elias's heart raced, his fingers relentless, the can's rim cutting into his skin. I can't tell him about Steve, he thought, the lie a cold weight, his mind calculating odds—exposure versus survival. "I was… uh, out earlier," he said, his voice steady, careful, the words heavy with subtext. "Saw some footprints. Not walkers. Human. Faint, but… someone's watching us."
Shane's eyes burned, his voice a snarl, his breath heavy. "And you didn't tell us?" he said, his hand twitching near his gun. "You just sit here, keeping secrets? That's reckless, Kane—you're gonna get us killed."
He wants control, Elias thought, his fingers relentless, a memory of a coworker's power play flashing, the air thick with rivalry. "Didn't want to… uh, start a panic," he said, his voice calm, deflecting, his heart pounding. "Just checking my facts, man."
The tension was a live wire, Shane's suspicion a storm cloud, his hand hovering near his gun, the air electric with unspoken threats. T-Dog approached, his heavy frame steady, a can of gasoline in his hand, a smudge of dirt on his cheek, his breath smelling faintly of oil, his presence a quiet shield. "Shane, Rick needs you," he said, his voice a low rumble, his eyes meeting Elias's, a nod of silent support, warm and steady.
Shane grunted, his frustration a sharp huff, and stalked off, dust trailing his boots, the air heavy with his anger. T-Dog's gaze lingered, his voice warm, grounded. "You got good instincts, man," he said, his nod firm, his eyes steady, a rare spark of trust in a world of doubt. He's got my back, Elias thought, a memory of a friend's loyalty flashing, the air warm with camaraderie, his heart lifting despite the weight.
[SYSTEM: Team Synergy: T-Dog +5% trust. Solid guy. Don't screw it up, hero.]
The HUD's witty jab was a faint comfort, T-Dog's support a spark in the fog, a small victory in a sea of suspicion. Amy's voice broke through, soft, hesitant, her small figure by the well, her blonde hair tangled, her hands clasped, her breath quick with fear, smelling faintly of soap and panic. "Elias?" she said, her voice a trembling whisper, her eyes wide. "I saw… something last night. A shadow, in the woods. It was… watching."
Elias's heart froze, the Watcher's threat a cold blade, his fingers relentless on the can, the tic a frantic pulse. She saw it, he thought, a memory of his sister's fear during a blackout flashing, her voice small, the air thick with dread. His protective streak flared, fierce and primal, a need to shield her burning in his chest. "Probably just… uh, a deer," he said, his voice soft, his smile forced, barely reaching his eyes. "Woods are full of 'em, Amy."
Amy nodded, her eyes unconvinced, her smile fragile, grateful, her breath trembling. Elias's stomach twisted, paranoia a coiling heat, the Watcher's presence a growing wave, a threat he couldn't outrun. I'm in too deep, he thought, his fingers slowing, the tic fading for a moment, the camp's fragile hope a fire he'd stoked, but the cost was a shadow stretching across his soul, the fog a mirror to his lies.
To supporting Me in Pateron .
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