"The requirements are the same as before: maintain a low speed. No matter what you hit, even if you get a flat tire, you cannot stop. Do not get out of the car, and do not call the police until you contact that number."
Holding a shotgun, Scott seemed a bit bolder and asked, "Why can't we call the police? Whose number is that?"
Jack pointed to the pit filled with the wreckage of hundreds of vehicles. "Do you really think the local police would be stupid enough not to notice so many people disappearing in their jurisdiction?"
"The owner of that number is David Rossi, a senior FBI supervisor. You must contact him immediately, mention my name, and then..."
Jack suddenly seemed to remember something, took Scott's phone, and took a photo of the pit, then pointed to the tin house.
"Go inside and open the freezer. Take a picture of what's inside and send it to David Rossi after you call him. He'll understand the seriousness of the situation."
Scott and Carly's faces turned pale instantly. They looked at each other, then reluctantly moved towards the tin house.
Jack's lips curled into a mischievous smile. "We didn't waste too much time coming back. Theoretically, no one should have had the chance to set up an ambush ahead of you, but in a little while, who knows?"
Watching the two shiver as they avoided the corpses on the ground and entered the house, only to run out vomiting, Jack seemed to be in a better mood.
Of course, he wasn't just messing with them. If he didn't make the couple realize the severity of the situation, they might rashly decide to seek help from a highway patrolman and end up getting silenced.
It wasn't because Jack had once, to watch certain restricted scenes, secretly watched R-rated movies, learned from American horror films, and then stayed up all night playing video games because he was too scared to sleep.
Movies like "Carrie," "The Wicker Man," "Piranha," "Friday the 13th," "Midsommar," "Jennifer's Body"—he had never even heard of them.
Scott, hands trembling, shoved his phone into his pocket, then clutched the shotgun tightly as if it gave him some sense of security. Carly, after emptying her stomach, clung to her boyfriend's arm.
"Hey! Hurry up and be smart about it!"
Jack called after them, tapping his head. "Tell the people coming to find us that we'll follow the stream upstream and leave markers at critical points."
Scott nodded vigorously. Carly, with tears in her eyes, looked at her friend, "Jessie, are you really not coming with us?"
Jessie shook her head firmly, gripping her crossbow tightly, and stared at Jack silently.
After the two drove off, Jack looked at her.
"Promise me two things, or I'll leave you here."
Jessie softly agreed, waiting for him to continue.
"First, follow my instructions exactly. No acting on your own."
"Second, no more crying or screaming, or I'll..."
Before Jack could finish, his mouth was covered by her soft lips.
Sneak attack, unprincipled! Jack widened his eyes innocently, letting her have her way.
It was only then that he realized that from the moment he started fleeing with this girl, then ignoring her, and finally deciding to help rescue people, he had inadvertently pulled off a successful PUA.
That was enough. If this continued, Hannah, who was waiting for his call to meet up in Texas, would be growing grass on her head.
Summoning his greatest willpower, Jack moved his hand from her amazingly firm waist, placed it on her shoulder, and gently pushed her away.
"Ahem, I seem to have mentioned before that I have a girlfriend."
He cleared his throat awkwardly, ignoring her resentful gaze, and tried to pretend nothing had happened.
"Pack your things. We have a little over two hours until dark. We need to get moving."
Clean water, food, survival blankets, and various outdoor items—all were stuffed into a hiking bag.
Jack glanced at Jessie, who was only wearing a low-cut sports vest, and handed her his thin jacket.
"Put this on."
Then he gave her a small military knife, signaling for her to strap it to her leg. He only had two knives: a slightly larger kukri on his belt and this smaller one.
From the back seat, he found a hunting vest that worked like a tactical vest, with many pockets suitable for holding bullets.
After checking his weapons, Jack slapped his forehead, almost forgetting the most important thing. He opened the trunk, took out a folding stock, a red dot sight, and a custom silencer from a hidden compartment.
He assembled all the parts onto his FK7.5, turning it into a complete weapon, especially with the folding stock designed specifically for the FK pistol. Shaped like a spoon, the "handle" was curved, the "head" flat, with a square hole to fit the pistol grip, allowing for easy magazine changes.
If he had had this stock earlier, he wouldn't have been bullied by those crossbows from less than 200 meters away.
Once everything was ready, Jack slung the hiking bag over his back, covered his beloved car with a torn tarp for camouflage, and led Jessie by the hand into the woods next to the gas station.
There was a narrow path in the woods, likely made by the cannibals given their connection to the gas station.
Re-entering the woods, Jack gradually adapted to the environment, adjusting his perception to stay alert to his surroundings without overloading his brain.
After following the path for a while, he sensed something unusual. He quickly turned, put a finger to his lips, and signaled Jessie to be silent, then led her into the bushes beside the path.
Jessie, tense, quietly loaded her crossbow, took an arrow from her quiver, and placed it in the slot, giving Jack an OK sign to indicate she was ready.
Soon, two cannibals appeared on the path, speaking in heavily accented southern English that was almost unintelligible.
Jack held up one finger, pointing at Jessie, then two fingers, pointing at himself, indicating she should take the first one, and he would handle the second.
Jessie's face was pale, biting her pink lower lip until it turned white. She nodded lightly, showing she understood.
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