I looked at the man in the car. He was maybe in his mid-forties, with a long beard, and he kept glancing around me cautiously. I understood why anyone would be suspicious after seeing a fourteen-year-old boy standing alone in the middle of the road with clothes nearly torn to shreds. Maybe he thought it was an ambush, a trap.
After making sure no one else was hiding in the trees, he slowly lowered his window.
"What are you doing out here, kid?"
I kept smiling and answered without hesitation. "Hello, mister. I'm lost. I need to go to Savannah. Do you know the way?" I asked politely, not wanting to make him more defensive.
He studied me for a moment. Once he realized I really was alone, he stepped out of the car. His eyes softened a little, still cautious, but less tense.
"Oh, so you're lost? Do you have anybody with you?" he asked, scanning the trees again.
"No, sir. I got separated from my dad and uncle. I need to find them in Savannah… can you help me?" I said, keeping my voice small and worried.
"What happened? How did you get separated from your family?" he asked, coming closer.
"Well… we were attacked by a bunch of bandits. While we were fighting, a horde of undead came in. We all had to run. In the chaos, I got separated. I need to go to Savannah," I explained.
He kept checking the road. "I'm sorry to hear that, kid. I'm also looking for my family. I even have a boy your age… How old are you?"
I hesitated. It felt personal, but I answered anyway. "I'm fourteen. My dad said I'll be fifteen in a few days. Sir, can you tell me the direction to Savannah?"
He stepped closer, close enough to reach me with his hand.
"Of course I'll help you. I'll even take you there. In my car," he said with a smile.
I didn't like that smile. Too wide. Too eager.
So I stayed exactly where I stood and replied, "No, sir. I just need the direction to Savannah. I don't want to bother you."
His smile faltered.
"Kid, it's dangerous here," the bearded man said, looking me over. "Get in the car. I'll take you to Savannah. If you stay here, you'll die—starvation, monsters, anything."
His eyes sharpened with certainty. Then something darker crept in. His friendly expression vanished. Hunger—maybe lust—took its place. His whole demeanor had changed the moment I refused. No… it had changed earlier, when he realized I was alone.
I also noticed the gun tucked into his pocket.
I stayed calm.
His gaze locked onto me like a wolf sizing up prey.
I noticed it.
I pretended not to.
He reached out and touched my shoulder lightly. I recoiled internally. It didn't feel like the touch of a father, or an uncle, or anyone safe.
"Adults know better," he murmured, rubbing my shoulder. "You're alone here. You need my help. Trust me—I'm not a bad person. Now get in the car. I'll take you to your family."
Then he grabbed my arm and tried to pull me toward the car.
He froze.
Because I didn't move. Not an inch.
He tugged harder, using both hands. I still didn't budge.
His eyes widened in shock—right before I kicked him in the kneecap.
It snapped with a sickening crack. His leg bent almost ninety degrees, and he collapsed on the road, screaming as he clutched it.
He reached for the gun in his pocket, but before he could aim, I kicked his hand. Bones crunched. The gun spun into the forest.
His scream doubled as he crawled away, tears streaming down his face like a terrified animal dragged to slaughter.
"Please—leave me alone," he sobbed. "I… I just wanted to help you…"
I ignored him. I walked over, picked up the fallen gun, and checked the magazine.
Six bullets.
That made me smile. I never thought I would meet a predator in my life, and luckily, I wasn't a child or a stupid teenager. When the world is in chaos, people show their true color very easily.
I pointed the gun at him as he dragged himself farther away. He froze, shaking.
"Please… I have a family… don't shoot," he begged.
His fear only made my smile wider.
"Tell me where Savannah is, and I won't kill you," I said.
He hesitated, clutching his shattered hand, his ruined leg useless behind him.
"I—I'll tell you. Just promise you won't kill me."
One hand broken. One leg snapped.
He couldn't run.
He couldn't fight.
All he had left was pleading.
"Fine," I said. "I promise I won't kill you. Now talk."
He swallowed. "Take this road straight until you reach the main highway… then turn right. If you follow it long enough, you'll reach Savannah."
I nodded and tucked the gun behind my waistband.
"Sorry," I said.
He blinked, confused and terrified.
I pulled two rocks from my pocket and threw them.
Both hit.
Both eyes burst.
Blood streamed from his empty sockets as he screamed like a wounded animal.
"For this, I'm sorry," I said, smiling. "I just don't like your eyes."
I climbed into the car.
"You little bastard! You lied!" he yelled, thrashing in the blood-soaked dirt.
As I started the engine, he began begging.
"P-please… k-kill… me…"
He knew he wouldn't survive, broken leg, crushed hand, blind, alone. Pain would finish him slowly.
His begging only made me laugh. "Hahaha!" His expressions were hilarious.
"Sorry," I said. "I promised I wouldn't kill you. So my answer is no. Bye."
I drove off, leaving him screaming and cursing behind me.
I would never show mercy to anyone who was a threat.
Letting them live only made me suffer.
I was done with suffering.
I wanted to be happy.
I wanted to smile more often.
Mother said I looked cute when I smiled.
===
I had been driving along the highway for almost two hours. The road was mostly empty, with a few broken-down cars scattered here and there. A handful of undead wandered lazily near the edges. The car smelled like a rotting corpse, but I kept driving. The sun was high now, but the cold autumn wind felt refreshing.
My driving skills weren't great. In my old life, I had failed the test twice. I hated traffic rules, but I could manage. I could drive tractors, excavators, and anything on a farm. I learned early, helping my grandfather.
Suddenly, the car sputtered and rolled to a stop.
I glanced at the dashboard.
Empty. No gas.
"Great," I muttered.
There was nothing I could do. I prepared to walk. Before stepping out, I searched the car thoroughly. Trash was piled everywhere, making it annoying to find anything useful.
Behind the passenger seat, I found a double-edged sword—the kind you see in medieval movies. I also found canned food and bottled water stuffed inside a backpack.
Seeing all of it made me smile.
"When something bad happens, something good follows. Life's funny," I said, grabbing the backpack and the sword.
Before leaving, I checked the glove box. Inside was a folded map.
"Well, look at that. My luck isn't running out. Must be my lucky day," I said, unfolding it.
I found my location: Highway 16, near Adrian. According to the map, I still had many miles before reaching Savannah. Going through the woods would probably be faster. Major roads near the city would be clogged, traffic jams, abandoned cars, hordes of undead. I didn't want to deal with any of that.
And since the car was useless now, I had no choice.
I tied the sword to my hip using the scabbard and rope, slung the backpack over my shoulders, and ran into the woods. Barely any undead appeared, which was a good sign.
I kept going, straight toward Savannah.
After running for more than three hours, I suddenly stopped.
A gunshot echoed nearby.
Curious, I ran toward the sound.