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I HAD BEEN following the highway for a day or two before I discovered the fourth (and what I hoped to be the last) wave.
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It was a little bit after I had seen the bus. I had heard shooting off in the distance, and voices.
A lot of voices. Loud voices.
They yelled at one another- ordering commands I couldn't quite make out.
Stupidly, I had stopped walking- again hit by the surprise that there were other people like me.
I had caught a glimpse of one of them through the trees, and a smile had spread across my face. In a matter of 24 hours I had seen two signs of hope- the bus and then now, the people in front of me.
Maybe there were more people out here than I had originally thought.
At that point, I had thought they were other survivors. I had thought that maybe the shots being fire had to do with hunting.
I didn't realize that these people weren't survivors. And they weren't just hunting to survive. They were the Others. They, now in human form, were hunting us.
I was about to call out to them when I saw one of them raise their gun again and swing it around to face me.
A gasp escaped my lips and I darted away from their line of fire before one of their bullets whizzed past me.
I quickly glanced back at them before making a mad dash up a highway overpass. My boots scuffed against the concrete as I attempted the steep climb. The overpass wasn't very tall so I was able to make it to the top without much of a hassle.
I stole another glance behind me to see my predators quietly maneuvering their way through the trees. They were fast, moving at a rapid pace that I knew I could not match.
As I pounded across the overpass, a million thoughts raced through my mind. Why were these people chasing me? Hell, why did they want to kill me? How did they find me?
