OutBreak

Chapter Four

As we walked through the trees—the sun low in the sky now—Amara began to fall behind. Her feet dragged with exhaustion. I slowed and walked beside her. "You holding up okay?" I asked, low. She cast a look at me, a faint smile pulling at her mouth. "I'm fine," she said. "Just… tired. It's been a long day."

"Tell me about it," I said, trying to lighten the mood and slice through some of the tension in my voice. My brain wasn't paying any heed to my attempt at humor, though, skipping merrily away on all the things that could go horribly wrong in the coming hours. Amara didn't say anything for a moment. She watched Lucas, who strode a few feet ahead of us, head hung low and eyes cast down. "You think he's telling the truth?" she whispered.

I turned to Lucas and considered her question. "I think he is," I said slowly. "But that doesn't mean he's told us everything." Amara nodded, apparently satisfied with my response. We walked a bit in silence before she spoke again. "You're different from the others I've met," she said in a hushed tone. "Most people have given up. But you haven't."

I said nothing, taken aback. The truth was, in many ways, I'd thrown in the towel—but not on Sara. Before I could answer, the rustling of bushes to our left cut through any silence. I threw up a hand for quiet and unsheathed my knife, gesturing for Lucas to back off. Amara did the same, her hand clenching on the haft of her small dagger.

The rustling grew louder, and I heard footsteps—too many to belong to a stray walker. My heart was racing as I realized what was coming. Bandits. Again. "Ambush," I hissed, just as the first figure emerged from the shadows—a twisted grin spreading across his face. There was no time for thinking—only reacting. I lunged forward, my knife slicing through the air toward the man's throat. He was quick, but not quick enough. My blade bit deep as he gurgled and fell, blood spurting from the wound.

Others closed in quickly. "Run!" I yelled at Amara and Lucas, though they were well ahead of me, running toward the denser part of the forest. The next attacker barely gave me time to react before he was on top of me, a heavy club swinging toward my head. I dove just in time; the weapon swung inches from me, and I struck with a quick kick to his knee. He howled in pain as he went down, but there was no time to finish him; already, another bandit was closing in from my flank. I caught his punch on my forearm, felt the shock right up to the bones, and countered with a headbutt that sent him reeling.

These weren't mindless zombies but were organized, ruthless, and fought like men who had nothing to lose. A sharp pain exploded in my side as one of them sliced through my jacket and into my flesh. I grunted; the pain was sharp but not debilitating. I twisted, grasping the man's wrist and wrenching the knife from his hand before plunging it into his chest. He gasped, eyes wide in shock, but I was already moving, wrenching the blade free to face whatever threat came next.

The next threat wasn't to me—it was to Amara. She was fighting off a bandit with everything she had but was outmatched, her movements slower and more desperate. The bandit had her pinned against a tree, his hand around her throat, a knife raised to finish her off. "Amara!" I bellowed, surging with adrenaline, and threw my knife at the bandit. It struck him in the shoulder, and he howled, loosening his grip on Amara just enough for me to launch myself at him, taking us both to the ground.

We rolled in the dust, fists flying as we wrestled for possession of the knife. He was strong, but I had motivation on my side. My training overcame me, and I finally managed to wrench the blade from his hand, planting it deep in his neck. He choked, blood bubbling from his mouth, but I didn't stop until I knew he was dead. I shoved him off me, gasping, struggling to my feet. Amara was gasping for air, clutching at her throat where bruises were already forming. Her wide, grateful eyes fastened on me, but no time could be spared for thanks. More bandits were coming, and Lucas was nowhere to be found.

"We have to go," I croaked. "Now." She nodded, still in shock, but mercifully followed as I led the way through the forest. The robbers were not far away, hooting through the trees like wolves on prey. I could hear footsteps pounding on the earth toward us. Amara was gasping, her breaths ragged; I knew we couldn't outrun them for long. The trees seemed to close in on us; the forest was thick but had scant shelter. We had to go to ground on something with height or die in the attempt.

"Over there!" I yelled, my finger pointing at a jutting outcrop of rock that thrust from the hillside. It was little enough, but it meant height and a better chance of defense.

We scrambled up the rocks, the jagged edges cutting into our hands as we pulled ourselves up. Amara slipped—her foot catching on a loose stone—but I grabbed her arm and hauled her up beside me. At the top, we barely made it as the first bandit emerged from the trees below. He didn't think twice, charging up the slope with a growl. The narrow path delayed him just enough. Drawing my knife, slick with blood from earlier, I waited.

At the top of his climb, I leaped forward, my blade flashing in the moonlight and slashing across his exposed throat. He let out a gurgle, stumbling backward, but I gave him no quarter. I booted him hard in the chest, and he fell down the slope and onto the rocks below. Another followed, and this one was more cautious, his eyes fixed on mine with a vicious glare. He had come for blood—my blood. Amara was shaking beside me, knife ready. I knew right off that she'd never been in a scrap like this before.

"Stay behind me," I ordered sternly. "Let me handle this." She went back in docile obedience as the bandit dived on me. He was quick, but I was quicker. I eluded his attack and brought up my knee into his stomach. He folded over with a grunt. I followed it with an elbow to the back of his head, and he sprawled out on the ground.

A second bandit appeared, this one wielding a crude spear, before I could deliver the final blow. He jabbed the spear at me, catching my side as I twisted away; the pain was keen but not crippling. I reached out and jerked the spear from his hand, breaking it across my knee. The bandit growled and pulled a knife. I was on him by then, fist crashing into his jaw. The impact jarred my knuckles, but I followed it with a kick that sent him crashing into the rocks. Trying to rise, I finished him with a quick, precise strike of my knife.

I heard the bandit's body slump to the ground and swung to face Amara, where she stared at me in stunned silence, her eyes wide with disbelief. "How did you learn to fight like that?" she asked, her voice barely audible over my heavy breathing. 

I cleaned the blade, my mind wandering to the early days of the Apocalypse. "I didn't have a choice," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "My brother, he was a fighter. A hitman, actually. When everything went to hell, he wasn't there. But I knew he'd keep my parents safe. I was on my own."

Amara's face softened as she listened, interested for the first time. "What happened to him? Your brother?"

"I don't know," I said, the words bitter on my tongue. "We got separated. I tried to find them, but it's been too long. I don't even know if they’re still alive." Her hand reached out to my arm and touched it in a reassuring gesture that left me off-balance. "You are not alone now," she whispered. "We shall find Sara. Maybe your family too."

I wanted to believe her, but hope was a dangerous thing in this world—it’d get you killed. Yet I nodded, thankful for small comfort. There wasn't time for recrimination. More bandits were coming; their shouts grew louder. I could make out at least three or four shadows moving through the trees below.

"We have to go," I said, tugging Amara to her feet and pulling her toward the far side of the outcropping. "There's too many. We can't take them all."

We scrambled down the rocks, feet slipping and skidding, going down as fast as we could without falling. The robbers were hot on our heels; I could hear their steps echoing off stone. Just when I thought maybe we might make it, a yell from behind brought word that one of the robbers had found us and was closing in fast.

Spinning around, knife at the ready, he charged up beside me, sending me tumbling off-balance. We tumbled down the slope, rolling in a melee of flailing arms and legs. His hands clasped around my neck, squeezing tight. I wasn't ready to go out without a fight. I drove my knee into his ribs, loosening his grip enough to raise my knife and plunge it deep into his side. He gasped; his hold on me relaxed—but he wasn’t dead yet. His fist swung into me, and stars erupted in my head, but I didn’t let go of the knife. Twisting the blade deeper with one final, desperate heave, a strangled cry was forced from his lips as he slumped beside me, his body going limp. 

I shoved him off and lay there, gasping for air, before managing to struggle to my feet with my vision swimming from lack of oxygen. Amara watched with wide, fearful eyes while I fought to regain my footing. "Rex!" she shouted, and I managed to cut through the haze in my mind. I shook my head, forcing my eyes to focus. The bandits were closing in. Time was running out.

"Go!" I rasped, pointing toward a narrow gap between the rocks. "Get out of here!"

But before she could, the remaining bandits sprang into view, their eyes wild with the exhilaration of the hunt. They spread out, surrounding us in a wide circle, their guns glinting in the gloom. We were outnumbered and outgunned. I still had my knife buried in the dead bandit's side, and otherwise, I was unarmed. Amara had her dagger, but it would be less than useless against the four now closing in upon us. My mind lashed about, searching for escape, and there was none. We were cornered, cornered like rats in a dead end. This was it.

Then a deafening roar shattered the stillness—an explosion of hooves upon the plain. I turned just in time to see sand fountains rising from the figure on horseback, bearing down upon us, blade in hand. The bandits had but a moment to widen their eyes in astonishment before it was too late. The rider plowed into them with brutal efficiency, cutting them down one by one. I watched in astonishment as the bandits dropped to the ground, their blood soaking into the earth.

With the last bandit falling to dust, the rider sat back, reached up, and ripped away the scarf disguising their features. I stared, dumbfounded, as before me stood a powerfully built but beautiful woman, her black hair clasped into a tight braid behind her head. Her eyes were flinty, forged in a fire of use, and she told a tale of living on the very edge of life. This was a woman who had faced the worst the world had to offer and survived its worst excesses. Her eyes, alight with the very fire that had sustained her, locked with mine in a sea of relief and determination.

"You looked like you could use some help," she said steadily, though chaos surrounded us. I could hardly believe my eyes. I didn't recognize this woman, yet she had just saved our lives. 

"Who are you?" I asked, struggling to my feet as the pain in my side seemed to fade at her arrival. She smirked, wiping the blood off her blade with casual grace. 

"Name's Elena," she said with calm assurance. "Been tracking those bastards for days. Guess it's a good thing I found you when I did."

Amara watched with a mix of relief, shock, and something else I couldn’t place. She didn’t say anything, but the tension in the air was palpable. Elena glanced at Amara, her face unreadable, then turned to me. 

"You alright?"

"I've had worse," I lied, my body still screaming. "Thanks for the assist." Elena nodded, slipping her blade back into its sheath. 

"You're lucky I was nearby. Those guys weren’t amateurs."

Something about Elena put me on edge, not in any particularly bad way. She was dangerous; that much was obvious, but there was this sense of honor about her too—she had a code she lived by. In a world as messed up as ours, that was rare. 

But there wasn’t any time for that, either. The robbers were down, but the fight would attract more of their breed. We needed to get moving and now. 

"Let's get out of here," I croaked, my voice hoarse but determined. "We need to find somewhere safe before more show up."

Elena nodded, swinging onto her horse with practiced grace. 

"There's a place not far from here. It's secure. You’re welcome to come with me."

Amara looked at me and raised an eyebrow, but I nodded. We didn’t have many choices, and Elena seemed to know what she was doing. 

"Lead the way," I said.

We rode off into the night, leaving the bodies of the bandits to whomever would find them. A long and dangerous road yet lay ahead of us, but for the very first time in a very long period, I felt I wasn’t alone, and that made all the difference.