"There's something ahead," Zara whispered, her voice shaking slightly.
Winter's sharp gaze scanned the surroundings again, and he saw them—two figures lurching from behind a rusted car, their grotesque, decaying faces twisted into hunger. And then more appeared, moving out of the mist and towards them. The horde was closing in faster than Winter had anticipated.
He thought they had gone around them?!
"Get down!" Winter snapped, his voice like ice. "Stay low. Do not move unless I say."
He ducked behind the nearest car. His rifle raised, eyes trained on the advancing threat. There was a horde, 'fuck. Just our luck.' He thought with a frown. His rifle wouldn't cut it, and he'd just waste his bullets.
