The streets were the main routes in and out of town. While most Infected crowded the intersecting roads, some inevitably found other paths when the main ones were blocked—slipping through narrow alleys or breaking into houses to find ways around the defensive perimeter.
"SKREEE—!"
A ragged Infected sprinted through a dark alley. The snow ahead was covered in countless overlapping footprints—clearly, others had already passed this way.
Following the sound of gunfire, the creature raced forward and rounded a corner. A low brick wall blocked its path.
It didn't slow down. With a shriek, it leaped and scrambled up the wall, vaulting over effortlessly.
BANG!
The moment it landed and threw back its head to roar, a gunshot rang out beside it. A cold bullet punched through its skull, dropping it instantly.
The Infected crumpled onto the snow, frustration frozen in its reddened eyes. Dozens of other Infected corpses already lay scattered around it.
The situation on the main streets was dire, but the number of Infected infiltrating through the side routes was far from trivial.
Justin lowered his smoking pistol, casting an odd glance at the strangely-shaped Infected before turning to the dozens of soldiers clearing the area nearby. "Kill every one of these sneaky bastards! If anyone lets a single one slip past, I'll have their ass!"
As he finished speaking, he sensed something. He spun around, hawk-like eyes locking onto a target, and raised his pistol toward the shadow lunging from a dark corner.
The bullet slammed into the figure, stopping its momentum and exposing it to the light overhead. Mushroom-like fungal growths covered half its head. It hissed—the distinctive sound of a Stalker.
But instead of fear, Justin's face split into an excited grin.
He'd read the reports about these second-stage Infected back in Dallas. The ones with fungal armor covering half their faces possessed something like echolocation, preferring to hide in dark corners and ambush prey. They were also vicious in close combat. The nickname fit perfectly: Stalkers.
Seeing its ambush had failed, the Stalker had no intention of tangling with this dangerous prey. It turned to flee back into the shadows, planning to set up another attack.
Justin wasn't about to let that happen. He closed the distance like a leopard, planted a boot square in the Stalker's back, and sent it sprawling into the snow. Then he raised his foot and brought it down hard. With a wet crunch, the creature's skull burst apart.
"Sir, you alright?"
Mullen kept his rifle trained on the surrounding walls, picking off any Infected trying to climb over, while glancing at Justin.
"Fine. This is nothing." Justin waved dismissively, making it clear such trivial matters weren't worth his concern. He casually shot an Infected charging toward him. "Radio all squads—Stalkers are in the area. Tell everyone to watch their backs."
Just as Mullen was about to acknowledge, both their radios crackled with a distress call: "Stalkers in D1 sector! Heavy Infected presence breaching the perimeter! We're undermanned—requesting backup!"
Mullen's expression darkened. He looked to Justin, who was already sprinting toward D1. "Send a few men to D1!" Justin called over his shoulder. "I'm going ahead!"
"But—"
Mullen watched his superior's retreating form and sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead. He'd known this would happen eventually. It always did.
Justin was a good officer—generous, straightforward, always said what he meant. He looked after his men. But he had one flaw: he was too much of a lone wolf, always charging off to handle things personally.
Nothing to do but cover for him. Mullen straightened and barked at the stunned soldiers nearby: "What are you standing around for? Secure the perimeter! Get some rest while you can, and send a team to D1 as backup. Don't let any Infected slip through!"
Crunch, crunch, crunch...
Justin sprinted through the streets, the bitter cold wind meaningless to him. His heavy boots crunched through the snow with each stride.
D1 wasn't far. He reached it in under five minutes, finding three or four soldier corpses among the Infected bodies. No sign of the living.
He followed the sound of gunfire to an open clearing where five fully-armed soldiers were backing up while laying down fire on dozens of Infected rushing them.
Their coordination was excellent. The ordinary Infected couldn't get close—they were being cut down before they reached the squad.
One soldier noticed Justin's arrival. Seeing where he was standing, the man's face went pale. "Sir, watch out! There's a Stalker near you!"
"Hssssss—!"
The warning came too late. A withered black shape exploded from the shadows beside Justin, shrieking as it launched itself at him.
"GET OFF!"
Justin showed no trace of panic. He didn't even try to dodge. Instead, he met the attack head-on, snapping his leg up in a brutal kick that caught the Stalker square in the chest.
The kick caved in the creature's ribcage, sending it flying several meters before it crashed to the ground.
Watching the Stalker struggle to rise, Justin's eyes gleamed with excitement. A fierce grin spread across his face, clearly pleased with his handiwork. He started forward to finish it off.
"Hssssss—!"
But another Stalker's hiss came from behind him.
Even Justin's expression flickered. His attention had been locked on the first one—he hadn't expected a second. He lunged forward, trying to dodge the ambush.
Too slow. The second Stalker slammed into his back, staggering him, nearly driving him to his knees. His pistol went flying.
The creature clung to him, jaws gaping, lunging for his throat.
It was all happening too fast, but Justin wasn't an ordinary man. His left hand shot back, catching the Stalker's lower jaw in an iron grip, holding those gnashing teeth at bay. He twisted and thrashed, trying to shake the thing off his back.
But while he wrestled with the one behind him, the first Stalker—the one he'd kicked—dragged itself upright.
Its twisted mouth curved into something like a mocking smile, as if laughing at the prey who'd fallen for its trap. Then it charged.
One Stalker on his back, another coming straight at him. Cornered, Justin's eyes blazed with savage light. His left hand slid back to grip the first Stalker's throat. His right hand joined it, both hands now wrapped around the creature's neck, and he began to pull.
"HRAAAGH!"
Face crimson, veins bulging, Justin roared like a maddened lion. Something primal surged through him—pure survival instinct made manifest. With strength he shouldn't have possessed, he ripped the Stalker off his back and swung it like a club into the one charging at him.
THUD! THUD!
The two Stalkers collided violently, then slammed into the wall behind them and crumpled to the ground.
BANG!
The instant they were airborne, Justin scooped up his fallen pistol, put a round through one Stalker's skull, and stomped the other's head into paste.
"Hah... hah... hah... Goddamn, that was fun."
Crisis averted, he braced one hand against the wall, chest heaving, breath pluming white in the cold air. But there was no trace of lingering fear on his face—just the exhilaration of a man who'd faced death and come out swinging. He rolled his shoulders, working out the kinks, grinning like a maniac.
By then, the other soldiers had finished off their pursuers. Three moved to cover the alley entrance while two ran to help Justin.
But they arrived just in time to watch him tear two Stalkers apart with his bare hands. They stood frozen, jaws hanging, unable to process what they'd just witnessed.
Those two Stalkers had been terrorizing their squad, using hit-and-run tactics to pick them off. They'd killed several men. The survivors had been forced to cluster together for protection, which was how the other Infected had managed to breach the perimeter.
And their commanding officer had just soloed both Stalkers. Barehanded. The soldiers stared at Justin with something approaching worship.
Justin was about to order them back to their posts while he took a quick breather when his radio crackled to life.
"Kshhh—All personnel be advised: two individuals have stolen a supply truck and are fleeing west from the east sector. The vehicle contains significant quantities of food and ammunition. All units are to intercept immediately!"
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