Morning came.
The others gathered near the entrance as Jaxon and Natasha finished preparing. They carried only what they needed. Their guns, small knives at their waists, and a twenty-liter fuel can strapped to Jaxon's backpack, siphoned from broken vehicles nearby. Before leaving, they coated themselves in a thick, crusty paste of black blood, masking their scent the usual way.
"You still haven't healed completely, and you're heading out again," Cindy said, looking at Jaxon.
"Maybe he has a thing for those infected," Elena said with a chuckle.
Jaxon gave Cindy a wry smile but said nothing.
Unlike Elena, the rest of the group watched them with clear worry. No one tried to stop them, but the tension hung thick in the air.
"This won't take long," Jaxon said. "We'll be back as soon as we can."
Natasha nodded beside him. With that, the two of them turned and headed out.
After the door closed, Elena clapped her hands once. "Alright. Training continues."
