Chapter 6: The Hunt
The forest was quiet again.
Not peaceful—never peaceful anymore—but silent like the woods were holding their breath, waiting for blood.
Axel moved ahead of the group, katana strapped to his back, cigarette tucked between his fingers. The smoke curled around his sharp features, half-shadowed beneath the trees. His eyes didn't waver. Focused. Watching.
The others followed.
Jason was at the back, still tense after the ambush. Mara walked near Emily and Rachel, the three of them keeping close together. Rachel's sharp eyes scanned the trees, always alert. She held her hunting knife tightly, her fingers twitching now and then. Emily clutched a small crowbar, while Mara had her bow drawn.
A bow axel made
Hank walked with a slow, sure gait, always watching Axel, as if trying to decode him.
After nearly an hour of walking, Jason finally asked, "How do you know he came this way? It's been half a day."
Axel didn't look back.
"Footprints," he said. "Fresh. Deep. Panicked."
He crouched near a broken patch of underbrush and pointed. "Heel hit first. He was running fast. And here—" Axel brushed aside a few leaves to reveal a snapped twig, wet with sap, "—he stopped. Briefly. Turned north."
Jason blinked. "You can tell all that?"
"No," Axel said. "I know all that."
No one spoke after that.
They moved for another thirty minutes before Axel held up a hand.
Everyone froze.
He pointed between two pine trees, where smoke drifted faintly into the sky—low and grey, barely visible. The scent of burnt wood crept into the air.
Axel moved closer, crouching.
There it was.
A small, dilapidated cabin tucked between the trees. Barely standing. Moss clung to the roof. One window was broken, another covered with a hanging sheet. A crude fence wrapped around the back, lined with bones—walker bones, animal bones, human bones.
Jason swallowed. "This is it?"
Axel nodded.
"We'll wait. Watch. Count how many. How they move. What weapons they carry."
Hank stepped beside him. "And then?"
Axel's voice was flat.
"Then we kill them all."
---
A large, moss-covered stone jutted out from the ground like a half-buried skull. It stood less than fifty yards from the cabin, hidden by a thicket of trees and vines—close enough to watch, far enough to breathe.
The group huddled behind it, catching their breath, checking their weapons. The sky above them was dimming, the light bleeding away into a dull amber. Twilight was creeping in fast.
Jason paced restlessly, glancing toward the trees. "He's been gone for fifteen minutes. Think he's okay?"
"He's fine," Hank said. "He's probably already inside counting how many teeth each bastard has."
Rachel sat with her back to the stone, cleaning her knife with the edge of her sleeve. "He moves like a shadow," she said softly. "I watched him take out a walker without a sound earlier. Like it never knew it was dead."
Mara chuckled. "That sounds like Axel."
Emily sat beside Rachel, hugging her knees. "He doesn't talk much. But… he didn't have to. You can feel it. Like he's carrying something heavy all the time."
Jason finally sat down with a grunt. "He's cold. Smart. But I don't know if that makes me trust him or fear him."
Hank looked up, his eyes steady. "Why not both?"
The group fell into a thoughtful silence for a moment, the sound of rustling leaves and distant crows filling the air.
Hank reached into his coat and pulled out a small metal flask. He held it up. "To surviving the night."
Everyone shared a tired smile.
"To surviving," they echoed, clinking weapons and gear instead of glasses.
Meanwhile—
Axel crouched low against the far side of the cabin, his breathing slow and quiet. The katana was sheathed against his back, but his knife was already in hand, reflecting the last traces of dying sunlight.
Through a crack in the wall, he saw them.
Four men.
One was limping—wounded during the ambush. Another was loading bullets into a rusted rifle. The others laughed and smoked, their voices low but clear.
They had no idea what was coming.
Axel's eyes narrowed.
He didn't see everything inside he didn't hear what they where saying not really
He turned away, disappearing into the trees as if the forest itself swallowed him whole.
Back at the stone, the group sat in silence until they heard the crunch of leaves behind them.
He was back.
He didn't say a word—just nodded once.
It was time.
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