Chapter 43: The Moon Dyed Red!
Hanks pulled his gaze away and took a deep breath of the cool night air.
"Yeah, it's special." His tone was flat as his large hand gently ruffled her cap. "Come on, Clem. Let's head back inside. It's cold out here at night."
He took Clementine's hand and turned toward the motel courtyard with its flickering lights.
The motel's power supply was running low. The lights going out completely was just a matter of time.
The pickup truck and RV parked nearby were already packed inside and out with supplies. Everyone had been rushing to load everything right after receiving their weapons earlier.
Now they were finishing up, cramming the last batch of supplies into the vehicles.
Backpacks, crates, canned goods, canteens, blankets—anything useful was stuffed in as much as possible. Even the roof and gaps had things tied and hanging from them.
Larry leaned on his newly distributed hunting rifle.
He watched everyone stuff supplies into the pickup and RV, his expression growing darker.
Unable to contain himself, he muttered sarcastically in a voice not loud but enough for nearby people to hear.
"Hmph. Risk our lives to find all this stuff, and it ends up looking like someone's private armory and pantry."
"Give us this little bit of food that'll only last a month. Are they afraid we'll eat too much and get stuffed, or afraid if we get guns we won't follow orders?"
Lilly, who'd been taking inventory, froze. Her face immediately flushed red with embarrassment and shame.
She quietly tugged at her father's sleeve, urging him softly, "Dad, stop. Without them risking their lives to go out and find this stuff, we wouldn't have anything at all..."
Larry shook off his daughter's hand with a cold snort. His voice did drop lower, but the resentment in his eyes didn't diminish at all.
"Risk their lives? Hmph. Who knows if they really ran into serious trouble, or just hid away more good stuff for themselves."
"These days, you can't trust anyone."
Lilly had no response to her father's words, but she was too embarrassed to ask for more supplies either.
She appreciated what Hanks had done for the group, and she understood her father's concerns about survival resources.
All she could do was lower her head and quietly organize the limited food and medicine they'd been given.
Hanks didn't bother acknowledging the father and daughter. Leading Clementine by the hand toward the RV, he suddenly stopped cold.
The sky? The red moon?
Wait a second.
Oh shit. No.
He whipped his gaze toward the sky.
The moon was slowly turning red.
It really was a blood moon.
Hanks stared at the increasingly crimson moon on the horizon, memories from the game flashing through his mind. Terrifying memories washed over him like ice water.
"Blood moon... it's a blood moon!" His voice came out as a strangled growl, carrying unprecedented fear.
In the 7 Days to Die setting, every seven days—or sometimes random intervals—the moon in the sky would turn red.
When the blood moon rose, it didn't matter if they were men, women, children, elderly, sick, or disabled—every walker would enter a frenzied state. They would run endlessly and become far more aggressive.
Not only that, the walkers' strength would greatly increase—both bite force and tearing strength.
They would also evolve the ability to track the scent of the living, hunting them relentlessly until the blood moon faded.
"VROOOOM!"
Before anyone could ask about the blood moon, the roar of engines thundered from the distance, growing closer.
"VROOOOM! BRRRRR!"
Blinding headlights suddenly pierced the dusk like swords, sweeping across the courtyard.
"Contact! Take cover!" Hanks's roar was instantly drowned out by even more violent sounds.
"RATATATAT!"
"BANG! BANG! BANG!"
Dense gunfire poured through the motel gate like burning hail.
Brick fragments flew. Window glass shattered instantly. The suppressing fire completely blanketed the entire courtyard.
"Ahhh!"
Clementine screamed. Hanks scooped her up around the waist and dove behind the RV.
Kenny and Lee reacted quickly too, scrambling behind the pickup truck.
Carley, Doug, and Katjaa dragged Duck into the nearest first-floor room.
Lilly struggled to pull the immobile Larry toward the stairs, trying to get him upstairs.
The enemy fire was fierce and precise. They'd clearly come prepared with obvious revenge in mind.
Bullets drummed against the pickup and RV bodies with metallic clangs, sparks flying. No one could even raise their heads.
Hanks, relying on superior courage and marksmanship, returned fire during gaps in the dense barrage.
He listened for gunfire positions, suddenly leaning out from behind the RV, aiming with his P226, shooting, and pulling back.
The entire sequence took less than three seconds.
Bang! Bang!
Two precise shots.
In the distance, a gunman on a moving SUV dropped.
But it brought even more insane retaliatory fire.
Bullets pounded the RV wall—some so close they passed within inches of his head.
"Shit!" For the moment Hanks didn't dare show himself. The enemy numbers and firepower far exceeded expectations.
He held Clementine tightly, curled up behind the RV's massive tire.
Bullets hammered the metal body like a storm, creating a heart-stopping roar.
Clementine trembled in his arms but bit her lip hard, not crying out.
"Kenny! Lee!" Hanks shouted toward the pickup, his voice nearly drowned by gunfire. "Report! Is anyone hit?"
"We're okay!" Kenny's voice came from behind the pickup, carrying a hint of panic. "Fuck! Too much fire! Can't get our heads up!"
"Carley! Doug! What about you?" Hanks called again.
"We're safe!" Carley's voice came through a gap in the first-floor room window, relatively composed. "But we're pinned down! Can't get out!"
"Lilly! Larry!" Hanks looked toward the stairs, his heart sinking.
Lilly was struggling to drag Larry up to the second floor. Bullets struck the wall near the stairs. They were pinned at the stairwell corner, unable to advance or retreat.
"We need help!" Lilly screamed tearfully. "My dad's hit! His leg!"
Larry's pained groans could be faintly heard.
"Damn it!" Hanks cursed under his breath, forcing himself to stay calm.
"Kenny!" he roared again. "Use your shotgun! On my mark! I'll count to three!"
"Fire toward the gate blindly! Suppressing fire! Don't aim—just create chaos!"
"Got it!" Kenny responded immediately.
"Lee! Your Glock—watch the left wall! Keep anyone from sneaking in!"
"Copy!"
"One!" Hanks began counting down.
He shoved Clementine deeper under the vehicle. "Stay hidden! Don't come out no matter what!"
"Two!" He checked his P226's magazine. Still plenty of rounds.
"Three! Fire!"
On Hanks's command—
"BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!"
Kenny's shotgun roared first, steel pellets spraying toward the courtyard gate in a wide fan.
Though not precise, the sound was terrifying and temporarily disrupted the enemy's firing rhythm.
Almost simultaneously, Hanks burst from behind the vehicle—not charging the gate but diving toward the stairs, his P226 firing rapid shots.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
His Suppressive Fire passive triggered.
At extremely high fire rate, bullets struck several points on the ground in front of Lilly and her father.
The kicked-up dust and debris temporarily created a small smoke screen, disrupting the shooters' line of sight outside.
"Go! Get upstairs!" Hanks reached the base of the stairs and shouted up at Lilly.
Given the breathing room, Lilly used every ounce of strength to drag the wailing Larry up to the second-floor corridor, temporarily escaping the deadliest line of fire.
Hanks rolled and took cover in the triangular space under the stairs. This spot was relatively safe.
The brief suppression only bought a few seconds.
The enemies outside were clearly well-trained. They quickly reorganized their fire.
Bullets rained in again, even more accurately.
And then something changed.