Chapter 2: The Rules Change

  The plastic bag in Lee’s hand felt heavier than the fire axe.

  He stood in the center of the Motor Inn courtyard. The afternoon Georgia heat was suffocating, baking the smell of David’s blood into the asphalt.

  Ten people. Four pieces of food.

  Lee looked at the half an apple, the stale jerky, the single cheese cracker, and the sliver of a granola bar. He took a deep breath and walked toward the motel rooms.

  His first stop was instinct. Clementine was sitting on the concrete step outside her door, her knees pulled up to her chest. She looked up as Lee approached, her eyes red, and her hands empty.

  "Lee?" she asked softly. "I can't find it."

  "Find what, sweet pea?" Lee crouched down in front of her.

  "My hat. My dad's hat," she sniffled, her voice trembling. "I had it when we were doing chores this morning, and now it's gone. I looked everywhere."

  In this world, that dirty baseball cap was the only piece of her parents she had left. Lee felt a pang in his chest. "Hey, don't cry. It has to be around here somewhere. The gates have been locked. I promise you, I will find it."

  Clementine wiped her eyes and nodded, leaning forward to hug him. Even starving, she was checking on him. "Are you okay? You have blood on your shirt."

  "I'm okay," Lee smiled tiredly, pulling back. He reached into his pocket and handed her the half-apple. "Eat this. Slowly."

  Clementine took it with shaking hands, taking a tiny, careful bite. The sugar immediately brought a faint spark back to her eyes.

  Lee stood up and moved down the walkway. Kenny was leaning against the wall outside Katjaa’s makeshift clinic. Inside, David was unconscious, and Katjaa was desperately trying to bandage his severed leg. Duck was sitting on the floor nearby, holding his stomach and quietly crying.

  Lee pulled out the cheese cracker. "Kenny. Give this to Duck."

  Kenny looked at the cracker, his tough exterior completely crumbling. "Lee... thank you, man." He immediately knelt and handed the cracker to his son, who devoured it in two seconds flat.

  Two pieces left. The jerky and the granola bar.

  Lee walked over to the ice machine where Ben was sitting, staring blankly at his blood-stained hands, traumatized by watching his friend get eaten. Lee tossed the jerky into the teenager's lap. "Eat, Ben. You need your strength."

  Ben looked up, tears in his eyes. He nodded silently, ripping open the plastic.

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  One piece left.

  Carley was leaning against the RV, her sniper rifle resting against her leg. She looked exhausted, her cheekbones sharp from months of missed meals. Lee walked over and held out the granola bar.

  "Take it," Lee said.

  Before Carley could reach for it, a massive shadow fell over them.

  "Are you kidding me?!" Larry roared, his face flushed purple with rage. He stomped over, towering over Lee. "You're giving food to the reporter?! I have a heart condition, you piece of garbage! You're trying to kill me!"

  "Back off, Larry," Carley snapped, her hand dropping toward her pistol.

  Lee stepped directly into Larry's path, looking the giant man dead in the eye. "They are kids, Larry. Duck, Clementine, Ben. And Carley is younger than us. We are adults. We can handle missing a meal."

  "Don't give me that noble crap!" Larry spat, pointing a thick finger at Lee's chest. "You're playing favorites!"

  "I'm keeping the kids alive!" Lee shot back, his voice booming across the courtyard. "If you have a problem with it, you can take it up with me. But you are not taking food from them."

  Larry glared at him, his fists clenched, breathing heavy. For a second, it looked like he was going to swing. But the fire in Lee’s eyes made him hesitate. Larry scoffed in disgust and stormed off toward his room.

  Carley took the granola bar, looking at Lee with immense gratitude. "Thank you, Lee."

  "Don't mention it," Lee sighed, his own stomach twisting into painful knots.

  "LEE!"

  Katjaa's terrified scream shattered the courtyard.

  Lee spun around and sprinted toward the clinic room, Kenny right on his heels. They burst through the open door.

  "He stopped breathing!" Katjaa cried, her hands covered in blood, pressing down on David's chest to perform CPR. "He lost too much blood, I couldn't stop it—"

  Suddenly, David's eyes snapped open.

  But they weren't human anymore. They were pale, clouded, and dead.

  Before Katjaa could pull back, David let out a wet, guttural snarl and lunged upward, his rotting teeth snapping inches from her face.

  "KATJAA!" Kenny screamed.

  Lee didn't think. He grabbed a heavy metal desk lamp from the bedside table, raised it high, and brought it down with crushing force directly onto David's skull.

  CRACK. The boy went limp, dark blood pooling on the pillow.

  Katjaa scrambled backward, sobbing hysterically as Kenny pulled her into his arms. The rest of the group—Lilly, Larry, Mark, and Ben—crowded into the doorway, staring in absolute horror at the dead boy with the crushed skull.

  "What happened?!" Lilly demanded, her voice shrill. "Was he bitten?! You brought a bitten kid into our camp?!"

  "No!" Katjaa sobbed. "I checked him all over! There were no bites! No scratches!"

  "Then how the hell did he turn?!" Larry yelled, backing away.

  Everyone turned to look at Ben. The teenager was backed against the wall, hyperventilating.

  "Ben," Lee said, his voice dangerously low. "Did you lie to us?"

  "No! I swear!" Ben cried, waving his hands frantically. "He wasn't bitten!"

  "People don't just turn into those things for no reason, kid!" Kenny yelled, pointing at the corpse.

  "YES THEY DO!" Ben screamed, tears streaming down his face. The room fell dead silent. Ben looked around at the adults, his voice shaking. "You... you guys don't know?"

  "Know what?" Lee asked, a cold dread washing over him.

  "It's not the bites that do it," Ben choked out, sliding down the wall. "You don't have to get bitten to turn. It's in us. All of us. If you die... you come back. No matter how you die. Unless you destroy the brain, you become one of them."

  The silence that followed was suffocating.

  Lee looked at David's body. Then he looked at Clementine standing in the doorway.

  Everyone is infected. The rules of the world hadn't just changed. They had shattered.

  Before anyone could process the horrifying truth, a voice echoed from outside the motel walls.

  "Hello in there! Anyone home?"

  Carley immediately raised her rifle, and Lee grabbed his axe, rushing out of the room. He ran to the barricaded gates, peering through the crack between the dumpsters.

  Standing on the road were two men. They weren't covered in dirt or blood. They wore clean plaid shirts, denim jeans, and heavy work boots. They had hunting rifles, but their hands were raised in the air in surrender.

  "Whoa there, easy now!" the older man called out, offering a friendly Southern smile. "We heard the shouting. My name's Andy St. John. This here is my brother, Danny. We run the St. John Dairy Farm, about five miles down the road."

  "What do you want?" Lilly shouted over the barricade, her voice still shaking from Ben's revelation.

  "We're looking to make a trade," Andy said calmly. "Our farm is secure. We've got high-voltage electric fences that keep the deaders out. But we're completely out of gasoline."

  Danny chimed in. "We noticed you folks have a lot of cars sitting in this lot. We figure you might have some gas to spare."

  "And what exactly are you trading for it?" Lee demanded.

  Andy’s smile widened.

  "Food, sir," Andy said, his voice carrying perfectly over the barricade. "Fresh milk, biscuits, vegetables... meat. We have more food than we know what to do with. You give us some gas, and we will feed your entire camp. Hell, bring your people down to the farm for a hot meal. Our momma is the best cook in Georgia."

  Silence fell over the courtyard.

  Food.

  After the horror of the bear trap, the starvation, and the terrifying revelation that they were all infected with a zombie virus... the word hung in the air like a lifeline.

  "They have food, Lee," Kenny whispered, staring at the gates. "We have to go."

  Lee looked at his starving, desperate, terrified group.

  End of Chapter 2

  Strangers showing up at your gate offering a feast in the middle of the apocalypse is the ultimate red flag. But the group has exactly zero food left, and the starvation is tearing them apart. What should Lee do?