Watching the soldier's devil-like grin, the kneeling prisoners trembled even harder. Some had learned their lesson—they didn't speak, just nodded frantically, signaling their complete agreement.
The others quickly followed suit, mimicking the eager head-bobbing.
"Mm-hmm."
Satisfied with their response, the soldier gave an approving nod. Then he began to clap, slowly, deliberately. "Good. Now let me explain your punishment."
He crouched down, holding up two fingers before their faces. "Relax—it won't be too severe. This isn't exactly a capital offense. You'll receive only two penalties."
"First: your immediate punishment. The road ahead is blocked by vehicles. Since you refused to help earlier, we don't need you thirty-odd people now. You'll remain kneeling right here until the road is cleared. Only then may you stand."
"Second: your future punishment. For the remainder of this journey, whenever the convoy requires civilian assistance—any emergency, any situation—you will be the first volunteers. Don't think about hiding. We will find you."
He straightened up, that same pleasant smile never leaving his face. His voice remained calm, almost gentle. "Sound fair?"
The prisoners exchanged glances, resentment flickering across their features. The punishment felt tyrannical, yet none dared voice their objections. For a long moment, not a single person responded.
Even Bryan, watching from the crowd, silently clicked his tongue. The first penalty was merely physical discomfort—endure it and move on. The second, though... that was different. If the convoy encountered Infected and needed civilian fighters, these people would be drafted first.
"Well? Any objections?" The soldier's smile vanished as silence stretched on. His expression darkened, his voice turning cold as he glared at the kneeling group.
The temperature seemed to drop another few degrees. Those resentful expressions disappeared instantly, replaced by vigorous nodding—yes, yes, they accepted their punishment willingly. Better to agree now and deal with consequences later.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk..."
Witnessing the soldier's methods, Bryan mentally noted: Even in the apocalypse, you've got to keep your wits about you. Otherwise, you end up like these poor bastards, learning the hard way that society hasn't gotten any kinder.
Just then, he felt a tug at his sleeve from behind. He turned to find Sarah standing there, legs pressed together, face flushed, looking at him urgently.
"What's wrong? Why's your face so red?"
Sarah glanced around nervously, confirming no one was paying attention. She leaned close to his ear and whispered, "I need to use the bathroom..."
"..." Bryan stared at her, puzzled. Why tell me? He pointed toward the nearby tree line. "Bathrooms are over there."
Realizing he hadn't understood, Sarah hesitated, then leaned in again. "I mean... come with me?"
"Uh..."
Why do girls need a buddy system for the bathroom? Bryan scratched his head, confused, but took her hand and headed toward the trees anyway.
They jogged to the tree line. Soldiers had already swept the area; now they stood guard at the perimeter and deeper in, securing the zone.
"I can't exactly follow you in there. I'll wait out here." Bryan released Sarah's hand at the edge of the woods, gesturing for her to go ahead.
"Okay."
Sarah nodded and headed deeper in, ducking behind a clump of bushes in the distance.
Bryan found a spot with a clear view of those bushes, leaned against a nearby tree, and settled in to wait.
While he waited, two soldiers strolled past, chatting casually. Noticing him, they offered a friendly nod before finding a quiet spot nearby. They pulled out cigarettes, apparently taking a quick break.
Initially, Bryan paid them no mind. But since they weren't far away, their conversation drifted to his ears—and caught his attention.
The one with the hooked nose lit his cigarette and groused, "Damn, this weather's brutal. I'm freezing my ass off..."
His bearded companion shot him a dismissive look. "This is nothing. You should've tried Stanley. You'd have dropped dead on the spot."
"Alright, alright, forget it." Hook-nose clearly knew his partner hailed from Idaho and wasn't about to argue the point. Instead, he changed the subject, genuine curiosity in his voice. "Hey, weren't you stationed in Houston? You mentioned something crazy happened there... Tell me about it."
The bearded soldier just shook his head wearily, a note of melancholy in his voice. "That place is gone now. Overrun. What's there to tell?"
But then something seemed to occur to him. He glanced at his companion. "Actually... now that you mention it, there was one thing. Genuinely insane."
"Ha! My memory never fails. Quit stalling—spill it." Hook-nose snorted, nudging his partner's shoulder.
Beard rolled his eyes upward, recalling what he'd heard from a colleague who'd been there. "I didn't witness it myself. Got this from someone who was actually involved."
"This was maybe two days after the outbreak. Two guys showed up in Houston—absolute lunatics—claiming they were looking for their kids. They caused a huge scene at the quarantine camp. No matter how much anyone tried to reason with them, they wouldn't listen. Eventually, command had no choice but to lock them up."
"But then these maniacs escaped from the holding cells. They actually managed to sneak into the records office—where they kept the survivor lists. When they were discovered, they resisted arrest and tried to flee. Soldiers had to open fire..."
Hook-nose had been listening with rapt attention. When his partner suddenly fell silent, he frowned impatiently. "And? Keep going! Why'd you stop?"
"Hoo..."
Beard didn't answer immediately. He was remembering the look of sheer terror on his colleague's face when he'd told the story. He took a long drag on his cigarette before continuing: "They shot at these guys. Obviously, the two fought back. But here's the thing—can you imagine? The soldiers said it was like the bullets couldn't touch them. No matter how many rounds they fired, these two always found the angles, always took them down. A fifty-man squad... reduced to less than ten survivors."
He shuddered, then flicked his cigarette to the ground and crushed it underfoot.
"Th-that's..." Hook-nose looked genuinely stunned, mouth hanging open, expression disbelieving.
Two random civilians took on a fifty-man trained military unit and left fewer than ten standing? Was this a movie?
"Did they catch them?" Hook-nose finally recovered enough to ask.
Beard shook his head with a bitter laugh. "No. After that, those two vanished without a trace. Nobody knows where they went. Later, with the Infected numbers growing so fast, nobody had time to keep looking."
"Do you at least know their names?" Whether the story was true or not, Hook-nose figured he'd better remember these lunatics in case he ever crossed paths with them.
Beard thought for a moment, uncertain. "I think they were brothers? But the names... I really can't remember."
"Tch... You don't even know their names. I'm starting to wonder if any of this actually happened." Hook-nose rolled his eyes, tossing his own cigarette aside. He stood, brushing off his pants. "Whatever. I should get back before the captain catches me slacking."
"Yeah. Let's go."
Bryan remained leaning against the tree, watching the two soldiers disappear into the distance, his mind churning over what he'd just heard.
Two brothers searching for their children. They'd caused chaos at a quarantine camp, been imprisoned, escaped, infiltrated the survivor records office, been discovered, engaged in a desperate firefight, and then vanished.
Okay... that story sounds suspiciously familiar...
Unbidden, his thoughts turned to Joel and Tommy. They were brothers too. And they would have done exactly this—anything—to find Sarah.
Wait. A realization struck him. He and Sarah had always assumed the two men had been caught and killed by Infected. But they'd never actually seen bodies. What if... they were still alive?