Sarah watched the mother and son from nearby. Despite Tracy's reassurance, she could see the little boy still clutching his stomach. He was clearly starving.
"Bryan... should we give them something to eat?"
If something went wrong now, that family wouldn't have the strength to run. She remembered the food in her backpack. She hesitated, then moved to Bryan's side to ask his opinion.
Bryan glanced at the mother and son, noting their unsteady steps. He was silent for a moment, then sighed quietly. He couldn't harden his heart completely. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his last few pieces of chocolate, pressing them into Sarah's hand.
"Don't touch what's in your backpack—too conspicuous. Plenty of hungry people here, and even with soldiers around, someone might try something. I've got a little chocolate left. Slip it to them quietly. Tell them to fall back to the rear of the group and eat it where no one can see."
"Okay!"
Sarah gripped the chocolate, nodded happily, and hurried toward the mother and son.
Bryan watched her go, worry flickering in his eyes. He wasn't sure whether encouraging her kindness was wise. In the civilized world, compassion was a virtue. In this apocalypse, where life was cheap, it could get her killed—or worse, exploited.
But then again... he'd figure it out once they reached the QZ. He'd need to teach her to read people—to recognize who genuinely deserved help and who was hiding darker intentions.
He watched Sarah approach the pair, saw her slip the chocolate into the woman's hand with a whispered message.
The woman turned, surprised to find a young girl beside her. She looked at what had been pressed into her palm, and her eyes welled with tears. She mouthed thank you, gratitude written across her face.
Having helped, Sarah returned to Bryan with a spring in her step, radiating satisfaction.
Bryan smiled at her beaming face but couldn't help adding: "Being kind is good. But don't help people blindly. That won't end well for you."
"I know, I know!" Sarah rolled her eyes. She wasn't stupid. She was only thirteen, but these past months had forced her to grow up fast. She'd seen enough of human nature to know that not everyone deserved trust—that sometimes, companions were just resources to be used. Or worse.
She had her own ways of judging people.
Seeing that she understood, Bryan nodded and let the matter drop. "Just keep your head on straight."
A while later, the group reached another impassable section—a street that had caved in, leaving a sheer wall of earth and concrete blocking their path.
Everyone halted. Soldiers stepped forward, forming pairs against the wall, boosting people up one by one.
As the orderly queue formed, the mother and son quietly drifted to the back. When no one was watching, they slipped the chocolate into their mouths.
The group continued through the ruins for another half hour. Following the planned route, they encountered only scattered Infected—no large groups.
Tracy gazed at the Quarantine Zone walls, now tantalizingly close. Even she couldn't suppress a surge of excitement. She pointed at a collapsed apartment building ahead. "Once we get past that, a short walk more and we'll be in the safe zone!"
The announcement sent a jolt through the crowd. Heads snapped up, eyes shining. Voices called out: "What are we waiting for?" "Let's go!"
Tracy noted the renewed energy with quiet approval. She knew it wouldn't last, but it didn't need to—just long enough to cover this final stretch.
"Easy now." She raised a hand to calm them. "We've been walking a long time. Everyone's tired. We'll rest here for ten minutes, then push through to the QZ in one go."
Relief washed over the group. They found places to sit, grateful for the respite. Their legs had been shaking for a while now.
Just as Bryan was about to sit down, Wilfred approached him. His voice had grown even more ragged—like sandpaper on stone.
"Bryan. Come with me for a moment."
Bryan frowned at the grating sound but understood what this was about. He stood and followed Wilfred to a spot away from the others.
"Cough... You figured it out?" Once they were alone, Wilfred asked quietly.
"Of course I did." Bryan found a chunk of rubble and sat. "Your behavior these past two days hasn't exactly been subtle. The way your body's been changing—anyone paying attention could put it together."
Wilfred studied him for a long moment, then asked: "Cough... Knowing what I am, why did you still help me? Aren't you afraid I'll turn any second?"
Bryan let out a small laugh. "I just wanted to help a father fulfill his last wish. Besides—" he shrugged "—I've been watching you closely. If you started to turn, I wouldn't let you hurt anyone."
"Cough!"
Wilfred opened his mouth to respond, but his eyes suddenly flooded with red. The left side of his body convulsed violently. He doubled over, coughing, and quickly crouched down, covering his mouth, fighting to control himself before anyone noticed.
The episode passed quickly, but not before drawing curious glances from those nearby.
Bryan's heart lurched. He watched Wilfred crouch there, weaker than before, and his brow furrowed. "At this rate, you're not going to last much longer."
"I don't need to last much longer."
Wilfred took a deep breath, steadied himself, and rose. He waved off Bryan's concern. "The morphine you gave me is still working. Should buy me a little more time. Once I see Anna enter the safe zone, I'll... take care of it myself. And if it comes to it, I can draw the Infected's attention—give you all a chance to escape."
He met Bryan's eyes. "You're smart. I'm certain that even in the QZ, you'll do better than most. Anna... she's a good kid. Kind. Passionate. But she's naive. No head for schemes. So I'm asking you—once you're inside, look out for her. As much as you can."
"How can you be so sure I'll do well in there? I'm just a thirteen-year-old kid." Bryan held his gaze, unsure where this confidence came from.
Wilfred gave a tired, rueful smile. "I can't explain it. Call it instinct. Something tells me you can handle anything."
Bryan had no response to that. He closed his eyes, thought for a moment, then stood. "Don't worry. Sarah and I both care about Anna. Even if you hadn't asked, we wouldn't abandon her."
He didn't wait for a reply. He turned and walked back toward the group.
Wilfred watched him go. A rare smile—the first genuine one in days—crossed his face. In a voice barely above a whisper, he murmured:
"Thank you."
...
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