As Jaxon and Natasha worked, a shadow moved at the base of the watchtower.
Jaxon froze, his eyes narrowing. Something or someone was down there.
He aimed carefully and spotted a teenage boy, maybe seventeen or eighteen, staring up at them. His eyes were completely black, locked on them.
Jaxon's grip tightened on the rifle. 'Why do these eerie ones always stare?'
He squeezed the trigger, but the boy bolted just as the bullets left the barrel. Concrete splintered where the shots struck, sending shards clattering around.
Natasha's eyes widened. "Jaxon…" she whispered, following the sudden movement.
He didn't answer. He just reset his aim, scanning for any other movement.
"What's wrong?" She asked quietly, raising her pistol and swept her gaze across the area.
"I saw a strange infected kid," Jaxon said, his brow tightening.
"Then we should leave, now," Natasha said without hesitation.
