Chapter 69: Survivor Group in the South – II

Johannes considered Evelyn’s thoughts.

A well-armed platoon with two vehicles—one of them an APC mounted with a strange caliber gun.

Elias would never have that level of arsenal, nor the deserted soldiers he had gathered.

“Who are you people?” He said after a long pause. “Why are you here? Why this route?”

Dmitri didn’t answer immediately. He glanced once at the road behind him, then back to the shadows above.

“Non-operational until recently,” he said. “No long-term footprint.”

He spread his hands slightly, not to surrender, but to show clarity.

“We’re heading east. Your troubles are not of our concern.”

“What task?” Johannes probed.

“Classified,” Dmitri coldly replied.

“That’s what I thought,” Johannes muttered.

Dmitri, sensing the silence, spoke again.

“If you let us be, we’ll go our separate ways.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Johannes words’ stumped everyone.

“What do you mean by that?” Dmitri’s eyes hardened, muscles tensed, on the ready to grab his submachine gun.

“I mean no harm,” Johannes answered. “If you were his people, you’d already be making demands.”

He sighed, not in relief, but the easing tension off his shoulders. He looked past Dmitri, briefly assessing the group of soldiers, the vehicles, and their spacing.

“Night’s already fallen. You can rest here,” he said. “At first light, you move on—and we’ll pretend we never crossed paths.

Johannes stepped forward, then dropped from the rooftop. Dust kicked up around his boots as he landed.

Seeing this, Dmitri remained calm.

“You look unfazed,” Johannes remarked.

“I’ve seen plenty of people like you,” Dmitri snorted, lowering his hands.

Johannes smirked, tugged on the spear, and pulled it out of ground.

“You’ll see plenty more in the future,” he chuckled and turned around, his voice leaving a trail of mystery.

Dmitri watched as Johannes’s figure disappeared in the darkness.

“They have retreated,” Kimmy stood beside him. “Is it over now?”

“Not necessarily,” Dmitri reached to his comms. “Team, move up. Occupy the building to my right. We’ll spend the night here.”

“Roger that, Echo Actual,” Bulldog One’s engine roared, pushing to the entrance of the three-story building.

“Echo Teams, on me. Secure the building.”

Dmitri stepped inside, feeling the cold embrace of the hollow interior.

Wooden tables lay broken in the corner. The chairs scattered around in abandonment. Rooms felt empty, yet there linger the ghosts of people who had occupied them once.

“Building secured,” Dmitri planted his foot on the rooftop, eyeing the moon high in the skies.

Windows were covered. Entrances were guarded.

The platoon settled into their routine—gear stripped, weapons checked, sentries assigned without much discussion.

In one of the rooms, Mason put his M249 SAW on the ground and complained about the bile eating through his gloves. The Army Soldiers who heard it chuckled, joking about his misfortune.

Another muttered about the recent encounters of zombies in the open road.

Dmitri said little. He watched the stairwell and listened to the night.

Hours passed.

Zolyah lay prone near a broken window, her Barrett resting idle. The street below was empty—too empty than what she had in the colony.

Then she noticed it.

A shadow where there shouldn’t have been one. Though she didn’t notice any movements, the presence of placement stirred her mind.

“Echo Actual, this is Eagle One. We got a bogey,” she whispered into the comms. “Second floor, the red building across the street.”

“Copy, Eagle One,” Dmitri replied, gears rustling as he motioned.

“Where are you now, stinky rat?”

She rolled onto her side, silent, and slid from her position.

The man never saw her, nor Dmitri who had long closed in on the left flank.

When he tried to pull away, Dmitri’s knee was already in his spine, his submachine gun pressed tightly against his throat.

“Don’t,” Dmitri whispered.

The man froze, “I—”

“I thought we had an agreement,” Dmitri frowned. “Guess a man’s word is never trustworthy.”

“Get off me, or I’ll break your leg,” the man replied.

“Faster than a sniper’s bullet?” Dmitri smirked. “You think you’re the first we have to kill?”

Cold sweat ran down the man’s head. Even though the darkness hid it, Dmitri could feel the fear welling up the man’s heart.

“Speak,” Dmitri nudge the submachine guns nozzle towards the man’s throat. “Why did your leader send you here?”

“Your intentions remain unclear to us,” the man replied. “Surveillance is a necessity.”

“You’ve got three superhumans,” Dmitri was unbelieving. “What’s a crowd of soldiers to you? Betrayed before?”

The man’s silence answered his question.

“Heh, you speak of surveillance as if it’s a light matter,” Dmitri probed. “Clear eyes, but a restless heart. You’re no simple person.”

He didn’t press harder, nor did he need to.

“And you’re not acting alone.”

The main said nothing, though his breathing had long given him away.

A pause. Slow footsteps echoed from the stairwell in front of them.

“That’s enough,” Johannes’ voice said calmly. His stepped into the pale moonlight, skin clear as water, eyes calm like the tides.

He stood straight, weight balanced on the balls of his feet. Not braced, nor rigid.

Dmitri didn’t turn right away, “Is this your idea of hospitality?”

“And you said you were just passing through,” Johannes replied. “Yet you caught my man without waking half your platoon.”

“Is it?” Dmitri tilted his head. As if on cue, metals clicked on the other side.

Johannes noticed but didn’t look. His breathing stayed low.

“You’d have fired already if you meant to,” he stared at Dmitri.

Dmitri’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t give me a reason to,” he threatened. “Start talking.”

“Drop your weapons,” Johannes didn’t back down. “Let him go. Then we talk.”

“You intruded first. What makes you think I’ll listen?” Dmitri insisted, not letting his guard down either.

Johannes reached to his coat, alerting Dmitri.

“Raise your hands,” he barked.

“Relax,” Johannes chuckled, almost amused. He drew out a small vial, pills tingling inside the container.

“Show it,” Dmitri aimed the gun to Johanne’s head.

Rather than complying, Johannes flicked it to Dmitri. He caught it with his hands, feeling the lightness of the bottle.

The pills inside crackled in response, reflecting a familiar light to Dmitri’s eyes.

Johannes watched his reaction closely.

“Superhuman pills,” he spoke, unhurried. “This should persuade you now, right, soldier?”

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