My opponents noticed the approaching enemies too.
"Shit, it's them," said the man lying on the ground. He pushed himself up and crawled on all fours toward the window. I lowered my rifle, making it clear I had no intention of continuing the fight. They understood he lowered his pistol as well. "We can talk later. I suggest we team up."
"Agreed," I said.
"Good. I'm Tommy. And this is my brother Joel," said the one already at the window.
If you looked closely, the resemblance was obvious. Both had unkempt beards, but Tommy's hair was lighter and he looked younger overall. Joel seemed harder, heavier as if the world had left more marks on him. They were about the same height, and their builds were similar. Almost identical ears, similar noses.
*image*
"What did you do to piss off the cultists?" I asked.
"They're cultists?" Tommy repeated. "That explains why they're charging at us like lunatics."
"They wanted our gear and for us to join their group. We refused," Joel said. His voice was calm clearly they had dealt with plenty of hostile groups before.
By now the vehicles had pulled up near the town, and cultists were climbing out. Two cars. Six men. Their equipment varied: some had shotguns, others rifles and pistols.
"Checking the settlement of Whetstone," one of them said into the radio.
"I'll go outside. When they enter the house, I'll start the attack. You follow my lead," I said.
"Alright. We'll do it your way," Tommy replied.
They didn't move like amateurs. They kept their spacing tight. If I shot one, the others would immediately scatter and the firefight would turn into a shootout from cover. And once they had to enter the house, they would bunch up at the door while the ones providing cover moved closer.
Besides, I didn't fully trust those two. Once the fight started and victory seemed close, they could easily put a bullet in my back.
I slipped out through the window, pressed myself against the wall of the house, and edged toward the corner. One cultist stood about thirty meters away, closer to the road. The rest were approaching the house in a loose formation. When the moment came, I vaulted a low fence and crawled along it, moving into their blind spot. The darkness was my ally. Right then, I was almost invisible.
I could've let fate decide and allowed the cultists to deal with them. But there was no guarantee they'd leave my car alone.
Their men were already starting to circle the house. I drew my knife, gripping it by the blade, and threw it straight into the nearest man's throat.
"Agh" he rasped. He didn't seem to understand what had happened, staring down as he tried to grab the handle. Then he collapsed.
"Status?" a voice crackled over the radio.
"All clear so far," another distorted voice replied.
"Jack? Find anything?" While they were talking, I had already reached the road and sprinted closer to their car.
"Jack," the man by the vehicle repeated. "What's wrong"
He never finished the sentence. The bullet went straight through his head.
"What the hell" the men near the house suddenly sprang into motion. Two of them seemed to have already gone inside.
After the shot, there was no time to hesitate before they figured out what was happening. I managed to take down a third, but one of them ducked behind the wall of the house.
"Bastards, we're pinned down here. We need backup they're here, in Whetstone," he shouted into the radio.
A single gunshot rang out from inside the house, followed by the sounds of a struggle. I sprinted toward the speaker's position, then burst out from cover and dropped to my side. He didn't have time to react, aiming too high a short burst tore through his upper body.
Staying outside, I listened to the fight inside. Slowly, I moved in. They survived and took down the last two.
"Are the others dead?" Joel asked me, still on edge.
"Yeah. Outside's clear," I said.
"Not bad," Tommy said. A brief, nervous smile flashed across his face. Of all the weapons they had left, only a knife and a single pistol remained.
"They reported us. We need to move," I said.
"Nice meeting you given the circumstances. We'll take their car. Sorry about yours," Tommy said, extending his hand.
"Good luck," I said, shaking it.
As they started to leave, something struck me like a memory crashing into my head.Joel. He was the main character.
"Wait. Would you be willing to help me? In return, you can take some good weapons. If this works out, there'll be fuel and supplies," I said.
"I already don't like what you're about to ask. And I've got a feeling I know who this involves," he said, glancing at the dead cultists.
If I remembered correctly, he was traveling with a girl named Ellie the one who was immune. If anyone could give me a chance at survival if everything went wrong… it was her.
********
"So we're not getting through Pittsburgh that easily?" Tommy asked.
"No. The situation there is far from simple," I said.
"What about the other quarantine zones?" Tommy asked.
"Boston and Seattle are much better," I replied.
"Then why not go there yourself? Why take this risk here?" Joel asked.
"Personal business," I said. Going there right now would be pointless for me. I needed to head west and I needed a chance to find laboratories.
"So let's get back to your plan. You're suggesting we steal fuel, start an armored vehicle, and wipe out the cultists?" Tommy asked, doubt in his voice.
We had stopped nearly ten kilometers from the previous location, deep in the forest. If the cultists managed to track us even here, I'd honestly be impressed by their hunting skills. Later, sitting by the fire, I gave them a brief summary of what was happening here and out east. They considered my offer.
"We're out," Joel finally said.
"We're not helping?" Tommy asked.
"We don't owe anyone our lives. This is suicide. Not worth our time," Joel said.
"Sorry. We'll probably head to Boston," Tommy said.
"I understand," I said, unable to hide my disappointment.
Two extra people in a fight would've made things much easier. I'd have to go back to the original plan: lure some of them away from the base and take a small amount of fuel. Twenty liters wouldn't be enough I needed around forty. Armored vehicles guzzle fuel. Their engines are built for raw power, for hauling massive weight and pushing through mud and wreckage. Efficiency was never the priority.
By dawn we parted ways. I went mine. They went theirs.