Chapter 47: Dawn Breaks
A small group of walkers suddenly burst from the forest on the left side of the road.
Their speed was terrifyingly fast, lunging directly at the pickup's driver-side window.
Hanks couldn't swing his barrel around in time.
At this critical moment—
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Several gun barrels extended from the RV's rear windows. Carley and Katjaa opened fire decisively.
Though their aim was poor, the bullets successfully dropped the two lead walkers.
Hanks seized the opportunity. His barrel roared again.
BOOM!
The remaining walkers were engulfed in the steel storm, instantly shredded.
The two vehicles covered each other, struggling forward on the highway paved with blood and flesh.
The blood moon hung high.
This death charge seemed endless.
Every time they thought they'd broken through the encirclement, new hordes appeared ahead.
Hanks's ammunition was burning through rapidly. The shotgun's tactical bandolier was already half-empty.
His arms were numb from recoil, the webbing of his hands throbbing with pain, his ears ringing constantly.
But he couldn't stop. Stopping meant death.
"Up ahead, Hanks!" Lee looked forward and suddenly shouted. "That road looks like it has fewer walkers!"
Hanks looked up.
Ahead was an intersection. The right-side road seemed more remote—the wandering walkers were indeed sparser.
"Kenny! Follow! Turn right!"
Hanks roared toward the rear while his shotgun cleared the last few walkers blocking the direct path.
The pickup veered sharply right, charging onto the narrower secondary road.
The RV followed close behind, its massive body even riding the shoulder during the turn, kicking up dust.
They'd temporarily shaken off the densest horde on the main road, but the crisis was far from over.
Scattered roars still echoed from fields and woods on both sides of the road. The blood moon's glow remained eerie.
Hanks caught his breath slightly, lying flat in the truck bed. Hot shell casings touched his cheek, bringing slight burning pain.
"Lee, fewer walkers nearby. Slow down a bit—just don't let them climb onto the vehicle."
He sat up, shouting into the cab while gesturing for Kenny to slow down as well.
"We'll try to keep moving on the road and drag this out until daylight."
He didn't know if real-world walker hordes would lose their frenzy at dawn like in the game.
But it was worth trying. No matter how fast walkers moved, they could only chase on two legs.
"Got it." Lee didn't understand why, but he followed orders.
Both vehicles' speed gradually decreased. Engine roars weakened as they bounced along the secondary road.
The blood moon's light filtered through sparse trees, casting mottled, eerie shadows on the pavement.
From the depths of surrounding fields and woods, heart-stopping roars still occasionally echoed.
But compared to the endless tide on the main road, the pressure had drastically decreased.
Hanks leaned exhaustedly against the truck bed wall, gasping heavily, sweat and grime mixing together.
He shook his nearly numb right arm and began quickly and carefully checking remaining ammunition.
The M590's tactical bandolier had only seven or eight lonely red shells remaining. The backup bandolier was half-empty too.
He removed it and combined the remaining ammunition, barely filling one and a half bandoliers.
The P226 situation was slightly better, but he only had one spare magazine left.
This meant, counting the round in the chamber, he had only 41 rounds of 9mm pistol ammunition total.
Consumption speed far exceeded his expectations.
He dug loose bullets from his pack, pressing individual 9mm rounds into empty magazines one by one.
Only the soft clicking of bullets being loaded and the rustling of tires on pavement remained in the truck bed.
In the cab, Lee gripped the steering wheel tightly, eyes constantly scanning forward and the side mirrors.
His nerves were taut. With reduced speed, every rustle seemed especially clear.
The RV followed close behind. Kenny didn't dare let his guard down either, keeping Katjaa and Carley stationed at the windows.
Clementine and Duck crouched obediently on the RV's floor, not daring to make too much noise, their wide eyes filled with fear and exhaustion.
After this relatively calm progress for about ten minutes, Lee suddenly slammed the brakes.
"Shit!" he cursed quietly. The RV behind stopped as well.
Hanks immediately rose and looked forward.
About a hundred meters ahead, several vehicles were piled haphazardly across the road.
A school bus lay overturned, blocking most of the roadway, leaving only an extremely narrow gap filled with debris.
Several wrecked cars and a delivery truck were scattered around, forming a chaotic roadblock.
What made it worse—shadowy figures were moving in that pile of abandoned vehicles.
More than one. Under the blood moon's red glow, those figures' movements clearly showed frenzied characteristics.
"Damn... can't go around." Lee looked at the dense, low-lying farmland on both sides.
The pickup might barely attempt off-roading, but the heavy RV behind would definitely get stuck.
Hanks's sharp gaze swept over the pile of wrecked vehicles, especially that overturned school bus.
Something was very wrong there.
"Lee, stay in the driver's seat. Keep the engine running. Be ready to provide support or push through."
He ordered Lee in the cab, swinging the M590 shotgun onto his back.
His right hand drew the P226 pistol while his left pulled the tactical knife from his thigh sheath in a reverse grip.
"Kenny, you watch our rear and flanks. Don't let anything sneak up on us."
Kenny nodded, raising his shotgun and alertly turning toward the rear and the dark woods on both sides of the road.
Hanks silently vaulted from the truck bed, landing soundlessly, quietly approaching the school bus.
His enhanced senses and police instinct were screaming warnings—not just from what lay ahead.
But from inside that overturned school bus.
Hanks stopped suddenly.
He heard it.
An extremely faint, dense scratching sound and suppressed hissing came from inside the bus's twisted cabin.
Far more than just one or two.
When still about ten meters from the roadblock—
CLANG! CRACK!
An already-broken bus window was suddenly smashed open from inside. Then—
One, two, five, ten... densely packed small figures in tattered school uniforms.
Like a disturbed swarm, they poured out from the windows and other breaches in the vehicle at an awkward yet abnormally swift speed.
They had once been children, but now their eyes gleamed with pure madness under the red light.
Their speed was shockingly fast, roars high-pitched and piercing as they lunged directly at the only target before them.
Hanks's pupils contracted, but he didn't panic.
Instead of retreating, he charged forward, actively closing the distance.
Retreating would only let them catch and surround him. Close quarters would let him use terrain and leverage the knife's advantage.
Bang! Bang!
The P226 fired first, precisely blowing apart the heads of the two lead child walkers.
But the third was already at close range, opening its fetid mouth to bite his calf.
Hanks's left hand suddenly gripped the knife tight, flashing upward like lightning.
Hiss!
The sharp blade stabbed precisely up through the jaw, penetrating the skull, instantly destroying the brain.
His right hand fired again.
Bang!
The fourth dropped.
His left hand yanked the knife free, sidestepping another's lunging grab.
Backhand slash—the blade precisely cut through carotid and windpipe. Filthy blood sprayed.
Bang! Bang!
The pistol thundered again, dropping more distant targets.
Hanks—right hand pistol, left hand knife—became a whirlwind of death among the corpses.
Pistol shots and knife slashes connected seamlessly with almost no gap in offense.
Bang! Hiss! Bang! Hiss! Gunshots and the dull sound of blade cutting flesh wove together.
Hanks kept moving to avoid encirclement. Shell casings clinked to the ground. Filthy blood constantly splattered his tactical vest and face.
In less than twenty seconds, all dozen-plus child walkers that had poured from the school bus lay as corpses on the ground.
"Hahh."
He stood among the small bodies, gasping heavily. The P226's barrel smoked, knife tip dripping viscous fluid.
His bloodshot gaze quickly swept the bus interior, confirming no remaining threats.
Hanks didn't pause. He turned and gestured toward the pickup. "Lee! Ram straight through! Squeeze between the bus and guardrail! Hit anything that moves!"
Then he shouted to the RV. "Kenny! Follow!"
Lee gritted his teeth and floored it.
The pickup roared and charged forward, violently ramming aside car wreckage and debris scattered in the gap.
It forced its way through the narrow space, the body scraping against the school bus with ear-splitting metallic screeching.
The RV followed immediately after, using even greater weight and horsepower to brutally smash aside all obstacles, struggling through the roadblock.
The instant the RV passed, Hanks took a running start, leaped up, grabbed the ladder on the RV's rear with one hand, and agilely climbed onto the roof.
He stood on the roof and looked up at the sky.
Dawn had broken.
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