They traveled in two vehicles.
The Morales' pickup led the way.
Harry's home followed behind, keeping its distance.
Harry didn't let anyone inside his home.
Not yet.
There was too much magic inside—runes, hidden compartments, spaces that didn't obey normal rules.
And more importantly, trust.
Trust didn't come quickly.
It always came after proof.
The pickup stopped a block away from the hospital.
"You stay here," Harry said to Luis.
The boy sat straight, hands folded on his knees.
"I know," Luis replied quietly. "Doors locked. No lights. I don't open for anyone."
Harry leaned closer.
"If you hear screaming," he said, "it isn't people."
Luis swallowed and nodded.
"I'll wait."
The hospital loomed ahead like a black mass.
Windows—empty sockets.
Main entrance—partially collapsed.
One emergency light flickered, as if deciding whether to die.
"We move quietly," Harry said. "No heroics."
Carlos nodded.
Ana pulled on her gloves.
The first walker stood in the hallway, forehead pressed against the wall.
Harry's arrow struck cleanly at the base of the skull.
The body dropped without a sound.
He stepped closer and carefully pulled on the shaft.
Wood cracked.
The arrow snapped, the head remaining buried in the skull.
Harry froze for a second.
"One less," he muttered, pocketing the broken shaft. "Resources don't last forever."
Carlos nodded grimly.
The second walker went down to Harry's knife.
The third fell to Carlos' crossbow.
Silence returned.
The surgical wing felt different.
Not like a hospital.
Like a supply node.
Military logistics crates lined the walls—marked, stacked, some still sealed.
"They planned to hold this position," Harry said quietly. "At least a week. This wasn't evacuation. This was defense."
He opened the first crate.
Ammunition
Dry, well-packed.
5.56×45 NATO — approximately 900 rounds
9×19 — roughly 600 rounds, factory sealed
Limited 12-gauge shells
"This lasts a long time," Harry said. "If you only shoot when it matters."
He turned to Carlos.
"Six magazines for you. The rest stays reserve."
The second crate.
Weapons
2× M4A1 carbines, standard configuration
1× M249 SAW, partially disassembled
5× Beretta M9 pistols
Over 20 spare magazines
Harry stared at the machine gun longer than the rest.
"This isn't a fighting weapon," he said. "It's a clearing tool."
He tapped the ammo box.
"Last resort. When silence is already gone."
The third crate.
Explosives & Support
4 fragmentation grenades
2 smoke grenades
Signal flares
Tactical flashlights
Spare batteries
"Grenades are for breaking contact," Harry said. "Not for winning fights."
Another section.
Protective Gear
4 Level IIIA vests
2 helmets
Gloves, goggles, belts, pouches
Carlos put on a vest.
"Heavy."
"Alive weighs more," Harry replied.
Medical Supplies (Ana's domain)
Ana opened the crate slowly.
3 field surgical kits
Sterile instruments
Broad-spectrum antibiotics
Morphine
Blood substitutes
Dressings and splints
"This could save lives," she whispered.
"This makes you responsible," Harry said calmly. "And you are."
She nodded.
Rations
14 MREs
Energy bars
Electrolyte drinks
"Reserve," Harry said. "Not today."
That's when they heard footsteps.
Light. Controlled. Alive.
Harry raised a hand.
"Stop."
Two men stepped out of the shadows.
Crossbow.
Shotgun.
"Easy," said the man with the crossbow. "We're not looking for trouble."
"Neither are we," Harry replied. "As long as it stays quiet."
"I'm Daryl. That's Merle."
"Harry."
Walkers answered the noise.
"Head," Harry said softly.
They worked together.
No commands.
No arguments.
When the last walker fell, the hospital went silent for good.
They took everything that mattered.
Weapons.
Ammunition.
Medical supplies.
Surgical kits.
Nothing wasted.
Nothing left behind.
"You got a group?" Daryl asked.
"We have direction and rules," Harry said. "People come later."
Merle smirked.
"That an invitation?"
"It's a choice," Harry replied. "Together is quieter. Alone is shorter."
Daryl looked at his brother.
"We're in."
As they drove away, Luis whispered from the pickup:
"There are more of us now."
"Yes," Harry said. "And fewer arrows."
He closed his hand around the broken shaft in his pocket.
"Every one counts now."
End of Chapter 12