After I lowered my gun, the commander smiled.
"You're a very brave kid. Tell me—what's your name?" he asked, studying me carefully.
I hesitated, glancing at the soldiers still aiming their rifles at me. Amir noticed and raised his hand, signaling them to lower their weapons. They obeyed instantly, easing some of the tension in my chest.
"I'm Max Walker," I said.
The moment my name left my mouth, Lieutenant Amir's eyes widened. He stared at me as if trying to solve a puzzle. I didn't understand why my name shocked him so much.
After a long pause, he exhaled smoke and asked, "Is your father's name John Walker?"
Hearing my father's name hit me hard. Excitement, fear, and hope tangled together, but I forced myself to stay calm. I didn't know what kind of history this man had with my father. Depending on that, telling the truth could save me… or destroy me.
The surroundings grew quiet, with only the distant rumble of an engine.
Amir clearly noticed my hesitation. Instead of pressing me, he smiled and suddenly pulled me into a hug.
I froze, stunned.
Then he turned to his men and shouted, "Look, boys—this is the Director's son, Max Walker!"
The soldier who had been aiming at Clementine choked.
"No freaking way! The Director had a kid? I thought he was single!"
Another soldier smacked his arm.
"You idiot—he was married! Didn't you see the marriage photo in the office?"
The others murmured among themselves, exchanging shocked looks. Lee and the rest looked just as confused as I felt.
"Shut the fuck up, all of you!" Amir barked.
Silence fell instantly.
He turned back to me.
"Don't be nervous. I won't hurt you. Your father and I worked together. He was our boss, but to me, he was more than that. He was my best friend."
Still confused, I asked, "How can you be so sure I'm his son?"
Amir laughed.
"Because you've got the bald head, the same name, the stubborn bravery… and the willingness to throw yourself into danger for others. Your father was the same way—except he used his brain a hell of a lot more. You've got his courage, kid… but none of his ruthless tactics."
He paused, then asked, "What's your mother's name?"
Though he smiled, suspicion flickered in his eyes.
"My mother's name is Ava. And… my uncle is Matthew Walker," I said.
His suspicion vanished. He let out a relieved laugh.
"So I was right," he said, puffing on his cigar.
"Do you know where he is? I got separated from him," I asked, unable to hide the hope in my voice.
But Amir shook his head.
"No… I don't know where he is, Max."
My hope was shattered. The answer frustrated me more than it saddened me.
"How did you get separated?" he asked gently.
I steadied myself and told him everything, how the attack happened, how we ran, and how I ended up here.
When I finished, Amir looked at me with genuine sadness.
"Fucking hell… kid, that must've been rough. I'm so sorry for your loss. Ava was a good person. She used to call me 'brother' whenever I visited your uncle."
"You said you used to work with my father. What exactly did you do?" I asked. From the way he spoke and the soldiers' reactions, my father had clearly been someone important.
"Well, kid," he said with a faint smile, "after I left the Marines, I worked at your father's company for more than twelve years. A few of my men here did too. We provided private protection for wealthy and influential clients. That's how we met. He was the Director—smart man, and an even better friend."
I never really knew what my father's job was… but hearing this, everything finally made sense, the ruthless efficiency, the way he handled a gun, all of it.
I glanced past Amir at Clementine and Lee, still kneeling. My eyes locked on Clementine's pale, exhausted face.
I quickly turned back to Amir.
"Can you please help my friend? She's really sick," I pleaded.
He looked at the group for a moment, then nodded.
"Okay. We'll help."
He barked orders at his men.
"Call the medic. Stitch her wounds and give her antibiotics and painkillers. And the rest of you—stop standing around and set up the tent!"
Soldiers rushed to unload equipment. Radios buzzed as they moved efficiently. The medic hurried toward Clementine.
"Thank you so much," I said, truly grateful.
"Don't worry, kid. Consider it payback to your dad," Amir replied.
"Wait—why set up a tent here? Are you staying for a while?" I asked.
"We were tasked with guarding this train and the propane tanker, and eliminating any potential threats," he explained. "We're holding the supplies and waiting for the main group to retrieve them. We'll be here a few days."
He looked at the group again.
"I think your people should stay with us tonight. They don't look good—especially that girl. Stay until morning. After that, you'll have to move on."
I looked at Lee, Kenny, and the others. They were starving, exhausted, barely standing. There was no reason to refuse. I nodded.
"Thank you," Lee said. He looked at Amir, but Amir didn't respond, didn't even acknowledge him. Lee didn't seem bothered; his attention was fixed on the medic tending to Clementine, hope and fear mixing in his eyes. Kenny frowned but stayed quiet.
The rest of the group looked relieved to be safe, but worry still lingered. Christa leaned close to Omid, whispering softly, asking whether they could trust these soldiers. Ben looked the most terrified; he was practically panicking, his breathing rapid and uneven as he tried to keep himself together.
"Come," Amir said. "Let's talk in the tent. Your group will be taken care of. You must be starving."
I followed him inside. The cold wind cut off the moment we entered.
He handed me an MRE, and I devoured it like I hadn't eaten in days, because I hadn't. Even the bland rations tasted amazing. Then he gave me a clean military uniform, boots, and a jacket to replace my torn, ragged clothes.
We talked for hours about my father, the outbreak, and the military's situation. The government was bombing cities to slow the undead and was even considering nuclear strikes to erase entire states. The thought chilled me.
There were internal conflicts too, rival factions forming among generals, the military splintering into separate power blocs.
It was all new—and terrifying. Realizing just how dangerous the world was becoming, I made a decision: I had to learn how to protect myself. This was the perfect opportunity. Amir could teach me martial arts, gunfighting, survival skills… everything I needed to stop feeling helpless.
With my ability to learn several times faster, I knew I could master anything he taught me. Combined with this Agent 47 body, I had everything I needed to become the best survivalist in the world.
I fucking hated this weakness, the helplessness that slammed into me today. I couldn't stop thinking about it. What if Amir hadn't been my father's friend? What if the soldiers had shot us on sight? I couldn't let something like that ever happen again.
I opened my mouth to ask Amir if he would train me, but his radio crackled into life. He immediately stepped out of the tent, his tone sharp and urgent.
A stab of frustration hit me, but I pushed it down. I'll ask him later, I told myself.
With that, I stepped outside and headed toward the medical tent where Clementine was being treated.