Chapter 237: Summer Time [4]

“You seem to know this place remarkably well,” I said, watching her move ahead of me.

She clearly wasn’t walking randomly or guessing at directions. I’d already suspected as much when she’d navigated so easily while running from me earlier, but even now she was constantly scanning her surroundings with the familiarity of someone who’d memorized this building’s layout.

“I’m from here originally, and I used to come to this mall all the time before everything happened,” she explained without turning around. “Practically grew up spending weekends here. I know every floor, every major store, most of the shortcuts and service corridors.”

That made sense. If she’d been a local teenager before the outbreak, she definitely wouldn’t have missed frequenting what was clearly Atlantic City’s premier shopping destination.

Though honestly, the current state of the place didn’t quite match the glamorous image I’d expected based on its size and prominent location.

A significant number of the retail spaces had been closed even before the Infected outbreak, based on the faded “Space Available” signs and empty storefronts that showed no evidence of recent occupation. The mall had clearly been struggling financially in its final years—probably hurt by online shopping and changing consumer habits, just like commercial retail everywhere had been declining.

“Here!” She suddenly exclaimed, her pace increasing as she rushed ahead and pointed toward a staircase leading up to the third floor.

My expression immediately twisted into a grimace seeing the route she’d chosen.

“Didn’t you say your safe place was ’not far from here’?” I asked pointedly, gesturing at the obvious problem.

There were at least six or seven Infected visible between our current position and the base of those stairs, with probably more lurking in the shops and side corridors. We’d have to fight through a significant number of them to reach her destination.

She was already running toward the staircase, but she glanced back over her shoulder at me with what appeared to be genuine confusion about my concern.

“Infected can’t climb stairs,” she said, as if this explained everything and made the route perfectly safe.

Some actually can, I thought but didn’t say aloud.

“They can crawl and that’s not really the point I was making…”

We could have simply ducked into one of the many empty stores we’d already passed, barricaded the entrance, and waited there in relative safety. That would have been easier and less dangerous than fighting through multiple Infected to reach a staircase.

She just shrugged dismissively at my objection and continued running toward the stairs.

But I reacted instantly as my enhanced perception caught movement at the periphery of my vision—an Infected emerging from around the corner ahead, directly in her path.

I lunged forward and grasped her arm, pulling her backward sharply just as the creature’s grasping hands swept through the space where her face had been a fraction of a second earlier.

“Haa—what!” She gasped in shock, stumbling as I yanked her off-balance.

“Are you stupid? I explicitly told you not to run ahead!” I snapped, genuinely frustrated by her reckless behavior. “You nearly got yourself bitten because you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings!”

“I… I was just caught off guard for a second,” she said defensively. “I didn’t expect one to come from that direction…”

“You were definitely caught off guard,” I said, giving her a stern look. “Which is exactly why you need to stay behind me from now on and let me handle any threats. Get back there.”

I pulled her behind my position and turned to face the Infected that was now rushing toward us with arms outstretched and jaw hanging open.

The creature came at me with the typical shambling aggression, raising its arms in an attempt to grab and bite.

I kicked it hard in the side before it could close distance, putting enhanced strength behind the strike. The impact sent the Infected flying sideways, its body crashing through the glass door of a nearby store with a tremendous shattering sound.

I approached the downed creature methodically, placed my boot firmly on its chest to pin it in place, then swung my hand axe down in a precise arc that separated head from body.

“How… how do you fight them so easily…” I heard her mumble from behind me, her voice carrying genuine bewilderment and perhaps a hint of awe.

“It’s been three months since the outbreak,” I replied with a shrug. “By now, everybody who’s survived this long should be reasonably capable of handling standard Infected.”

“Yeah, but… something seems really weird about you,” she said slowly, and I could hear the growing suspicion in her tone. “You’re noticeably stronger and faster than even Maribel, and she’s supposedly one of our best fighters. The way you move, the force behind your strikes… it’s not normal.”

As she said that she held her arm which I grasped.

“Maribel is probably just weaker than me,” I replied, immediately regretting the words even as they left my mouth.

That sounded incredibly arrogant and weird.

But I genuinely preferred to keep my Symbiote-enhanced capabilities secret from the Boardwalk Community, at least for now. The fewer people who knew about Dullahan’s existence and what it granted me, the safer I’d be from both human and Starakian threats.

The girl gave me an extremely weird stare in response to my statement, her expression meaning maybe she thought I was either incredibly arrogant or possibly delusional.

The look made me feel deeply awkward.

“Just stay behind me,” I said, trying to move past the uncomfortable moment by refocusing on practical matters. “And guide me toward this safe place of yours from back there. Tell me which direction to go.”

I wasn’t stupid enough to miss what was actually happening here. She was clearly using me as mobile protection to reach wherever she actually wanted to go, letting me clear the path of Infected while she followed safely behind. Fine. I’d play along with whatever she wanted. Helping her reach her destination might earn enough trust that she’d be willing to keep quiet about encountering me near the Boardwalk Community’s barricade.

That would prevent the complications I’d been trying to avoid in the first place.

“Summer.”

I heard her voice from behind me, soft and somewhat hesitant.

I turned my gaze toward the large floor-to-ceiling windows that lined this section of the hallway, revealing the intense summer weather blazing over Atlantic City. I could see the beach from this elevated vantage point, along with a clear view of the Boardwalk stretching in both directions. My enhanced vision could even make out small figures in the distance, people from the Boardwalk Community walking along their territory’s perimeter.

“Yeah, we’re nearly reaching August now,” I agreed. “It’s extremely hot outside, especially during midday. But that’s still not a good enough reason to wear such careless clothing in an Infected-infested environment.”

I glanced pointedly at her outfit again, the sleeveless shirt that left her arms completely vulnerable.

Maybe I was being unnecessarily critical and prying into matters that weren’t my business. But I genuinely felt compelled to say something. Her choice of clothing was objectively careless and dangerous unless she was somehow immune to Infected bites like me and the others who carried Dullahan fragments, or unless she possessed absolute confidence in her combat capabilities.

Maribel was wearing a tank top but from what I have seen how she fought with her lance, I couldn’t blame her.

But this girl, right now, her arms were completely exposed to potential bites or scratches from any Infected that got close.

That creature earlier could have easily bitten her arm if I hadn’t sensed it coming and pulled her back in time. She’d been seconds away from infection.

The girl seemed to take my criticism personally, her expression hardening as she gave me an offended glare.

“Summer is my name.”

I fell completely silent at her words, feeling a wave of acute awkwardness wash over me.

She’d been introducing herself, offering her name as a gesture of appreciation for saving her life and maybe as a small extension of trust. And I’d stupidly interpreted it as a comment about the weather and used the opportunity to criticize her clothing choices.

“I’m Ryan,” I said finally, not knowing what else to say to recover from that social disaster. “My name is Ryan.”

“You already told me your name earlier,” she pointed out flatly, her.

“Did I? Right, yeah, I guess I did…”

She just looked away and started walking again, clearly done with this conversation.

I quickly moved ahead of her to resume my protective position at the front, and together we continued advancing toward the staircase—though much more carefully this time, with both of us actually paying attention to our surroundings.

“I’m not stupid,” I heard her voice from behind me. “This isn’t the first time I’ve done this kind of supply run. I’ve went through this mall dozens of times since the outbreak started. Usually I’m not being actively chased by someone wielding an axe, so I can move silently and carefully through the Infected without drawing attention. I get in, gather what I need, and get out completely unscathed.”

“I understand that you’re experienced,” I acknowledged. “But can’t you move just as carefully while wearing a jacket or long-sleeved shirt? Something that provides at least basic protection against bites?”

“It’s genuinely hot outside,” she said simply, as if this single fact invalidated all concerns about safety. “Have you tried wearing multiple layers in this heat without air conditioning? You’d be drenched in sweat within minutes, which makes you slower and more likely to make noise. Light clothing keeps me mobile and quiet.”

I tried my absolute best not to respond to that logic, biting back the dozen counter-arguments that immediately sprang to mind.

Being bitten once meant guaranteed death. Being slightly uncomfortable from heat meant temporary discomfort. The risk-benefit calculation seemed obvious to me, but apparently we had different priorities.

“I see…” I said neutrally, deciding not to push the issue further.

“And besides, wearing heavier clothing would have gotten me caught when I was leaving,” she added, her voice dropping slightly. “I need to be able to move quickly and quietly.”

So she was leaving the Boardwalk Community’s territory without anyone’s knowledge or permission, and apparently doing so in such a hurry that proper protective gear wasn’t feasible?

That definitely sounded like a habit rather than a one-time emergency.

“Clandestine departures, just like Shannon?” I said, unable to stop myself from drawing the comparison to that other girl who’d also seemed quite careless about leaving her community’s safety and throwing her mother into worried distress by sneaking past the barricades.

“You met Shannon?” Summer asked, and I detected genuine surprise in her voice.

“I did, along with her mother,” I confirmed. “Her mother specifically told Shannon that she should try to be more like you—more responsible and careful. Which Shannon has clearly taken to heart, apparently, since she’s now also sneaking out on unauthorized solo missions.”

There was a brief pause before Summer responded.

“Are you actually having fun poking at me and criticizing everything I do?” She asked. “Because it’s getting old really fast.”

Yeah, maybe I was being excessively critical and judgmental.

“Sorry about that,” I said.

She was right, she was obviously been doing this successfully for a while now, and she was still alive which proves she had the hand on it. I shouldn’t keep questioning her methods.

It was even hypocritical coming from me actually.

Besides, she’d said herself that this wasn’t her first supply run, and she clearly had developed effective techniques for moving through Infected-filled areas. I’d even lost track of her briefly during our chase after all. No wonder she’d survived this long operating independently.

Soon we reached the base of the stairs after I’d taken care of the handful of Infected blocking our path, and together we climbed up to the third floor.

The stairwell was blessedly clear of threats, giving us a brief respite from constant vigilance.

“This way,” Summer said once we emerged onto the third-floor landing, pointing her hand down the corridor ahead.

We walked through yet another hallway lined with retail stores on either side.

There were at least a dozen Infected scattered throughout the visible corridor ahead, shambling aimlessly between the storefronts or standing motionless in that unsettling way they sometimes did.

“Which store?” I asked, stopping for a moment.

“That one,” Summer said, pointing toward what appeared to be a shoe store about halfway down the corridor on the left side. The storefront had a partially intact glass facade and a hanging sign that was still legible despite months of neglect.

“I’ll clear a path and handle all the Infected,” I said, already moving forward. “You just focus on getting inside the store safely. Once you’re in, close and barricade the entrance behind you.”

“A…All of them?” I heard her dumbfounded voice from behind me, clearly shocked that I was planning to engage a dozen Infected simultaneously rather than trying to sneak past. “By yourself?”

“Just get inside and secure the door,” I called back without slowing my advance. “I’ll be fine.”

I couldn’t see her reaction to my words, but I heard her footsteps moving in a different direction—heading directly for the shoe store while I drew the Infected’s attention.

I engaged with the nearest cluster of creatures, my hand axe already swinging.

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