Chapter 18 Rowans POV
905 Words
The second Nicole breaks from the ridge, my stomach drops.
Not fear.
Calculation.
She doesn’t move recklessly—she moves intentionally. Wide enough to be seen. Close enough to provoke.
She’s bait.
And she knows it.
“Nicole—” Jensen starts.
“Hold,” I snap, already tracking her through my sights.
The intact one sees her immediately.
Of course it does.
Its posture changes.
Not the slack, drifting lean of the others—but a straightening. A focus.
It’s choosing.
Good.
That means it’s thinking.
And if it’s thinking, it can be manipulated.
Nicole cuts down two walkers cleanly as she advances, movements sharp and efficient. No wasted swings. No panic.
She wipes blood across her jacket deliberately.
Even from this distance, I understand the message.
Amplify the scent. Increase stimulus.
Force engagement.
Smart.
Dangerous.
My jaw tightens.
The intact one steps fully into the clearing.
For a split second, I see it clearly through my scope.
Its eyes.
Clearer than the others.
Tracking.
It studies her like prey that might fight back.
My finger settles on the trigger—but I don’t fire.
Not yet.
Too much movement around it. Too many variables. A missed skull shot could cost her.
Nicole steps further into open ground.
Alone.
Walkers begin shifting—not charging blindly.
They’re angling outward.
Encirclement pattern.
“She’s being flanked,” Kade mutters.
“I see it,” I say.
I adjust position slightly down the ridge, changing angle for a cleaner line of sight. If they close behind her, I thin the rear first.
The intact one moves.
Not sprinting.
Advancing with controlled speed.
It’s not mindless aggression.
It’s dominance display.
Nicole moves to intercept instead of retreat.
Of course she does.
She meets threats head-on.
Their distance collapses fast.
Her blade flashes—
And the intact one dodges.
Dodges.
My pulse spikes.
That’s new.
It lunges—not with teeth—but with its hand.
It grabs her forearm.
My vision tunnels.
I fire.
The round tears through its shoulder, jerking it sideways but not dropping it.
Not enough.
She rips free and slices the back of its knee. Partial damage. It stumbles but doesn’t collapse.
It’s resilient.
Too resilient.
“Charges in position!” Jensen calls from near the tunnel.
The intact one’s head snaps toward the sound.
Threat reassessment.
It pivots.
Not toward the largest group.
Toward the explosives.
Strategic priority.
“No—” I breathe.
It barrels toward Jensen.
Nicole moves instantly, sprinting after it.
I adjust aim for a clean cranial shot—but they’re too close, too fast. One miscalculation and I hit her.
I lower the rifle.
And run.
I drop down the ridge, boots sliding through loose dirt and brush. By the time I hit level ground, Nicole launches herself at the intact one’s side.
They hit the dirt hard.
It rolls on top of her.
I close the distance fast.
The intact one snarls—not a groan.
A controlled, aggressive sound.
Its hand clamps at her throat.
Her forearm braces against its jaw, keeping its teeth inches from her face.
It’s stronger.
I see it in the strain of her muscles.
I don’t hesitate.
I draw the combat knife from my belt mid-stride.
Three steps.
Two.
One.
I grab the back of its skull and drive the blade straight through its eye.
All the way in.
Resistance.
Then give.
The intact one convulses violently, body jerking against Nicole’s frame.
For half a second, I’m ready to stab again.
Then it goes slack.
Dead.
Actually dead.
Nicole shoves it off and rolls to her knees.
“Blow it!” I shout without looking away from her.
The charges detonate behind us with a thunderous crack, collapsing the tunnel entrance in a wave of dust and debris.
The remaining walkers falter.
No coordination.
No pattern.
Just noise.
The team mops them up quickly.
I stay where I am for a moment.
Watching Nicole.
She’s breathing hard but steady. No visible injury beyond dirt and blood.
“You good?” I ask, offering a hand.
She takes it without hesitation.
“Yeah.”
Her icy blue eyes meet mine—clear. Focused.
Alive.
Relief hits harder than I expect.
I shove it down immediately.
Later.
Process it later.
“You pulled it exactly where we needed,” I tell her.
“You shot exactly where I needed,” she replies.
Fair.
Around us, the clearing grows quiet.
Too quiet.
Without the intact one’s presence, the walkers are nothing but drifting bodies again.
The difference is stark.
Terrifying, actually.
If one could evolve that far—
Others might too.
I look down at the corpse between us.
Then back at Nicole.
She chose to step into the open.
She chose to risk being isolated.
Not to prove anything.
But because it was the most effective tactical move.
I respect that.
More than I probably should.
For a brief second, my gaze lingers—white hair streaked with dirt now, icy eyes still sharp despite the fight.
Attraction flickers again.
I shut it down.
Mission first.
Settlement first.
“Let’s move,” I say. “We clear out before anything else decides to get curious.”
She nods once.
We head back toward the ridge together.
Side by side.
And I make a quiet decision I don’t voice.
Next time she steps into the open like that—
I’ll already be moving.
- Writer
