"Well, all the doors and windows are locked except that top one," Lee said, pointing at the narrow window above the door. "If I boost one of you up, you can slip inside and unlock it."
"Let me do it!" Clementine blurted, hand shooting into the air.
"No, let me do it," I said, stepping forward before Lee could decide.
Lee nodded. "Okay, Max. Climb on."
"What!? Why does he get to go? I asked first!" Clementine snapped, frustration twisting her face.
"Clem, sweetheart…" Lee sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "We don't know what's in there. Max can handle more right now. Just let him—"
"But I can handle things too! I know how to use a gun now!" she insisted, voice quivering with desperation. "Please, let me do it!"
"This isn't up for discussion," Lee said sharply.
Clementine's shoulders slumped. She dropped her gaze, small face tightening with anger. When she looked at me, her eyes weren't afraid anymore; they were resentful.
"You're ruining everything for me," she muttered, turning away.
Ungrateful kid… I'm trying to keep her alive.
I stepped onto Lee's shoulders.
But a voice exploded from inside the station.
"Who the hell are you!? Get away before I shoot!"
An old man aimed a shotgun through the small window, his entire body trembling.
Lee rose slowly, hands raised. Clementine clutched his shirt and hid behind him, trembling.
"Look, man—we're not here for trouble," Lee said, panic threading his voice. He shifted slightly, shielding Clementine. "We just need help—"
"There's no help here! Get out before I shoot!" the old man yelled, finger twitching on the trigger.
My hand instinctively settled on my own gun. Being a kid had one advantage—he didn't take me seriously. He didn't even glance at my way.
Then—
A scream tore across the tracks.
We all whipped around.
"FUCKING SHIT! A massive horde's coming right at us!" Kenny shouted, pointing past the train.
And he was right.
A flood of undead surged from the trees—dozens of newly turned runners sprinting at the front, hundreds more crashing behind them like a tidal wave.
"EVERYBODY! MOVE! GET TO THE STATION NOW!" Lee yelled.
The group bolted toward us, panic written across every face.
Lee spun back to the old man.
"PLEASE! There are people out here—we just need shelter for a few minutes!" he begged. "If you don't open this door, people are going to die!"
"No! I'm not dying for any of you! Get away!" the old man shrieked.
Lee slammed his fist against the metal.
"You stubborn old bastard! LOOK BEHIND US! DO YOU WANT US TO DIE OUT HERE!?"
But the old man's mind was collapsing under fear. His hands shook violently, eyes darting everywhere but ours. Finger hovering on the trigger, jerking sporadically.
"Lee…" Clementine whispered. "I—I'm scared."
Then another scream split the air.
"CHUCK—NO! GOD, NO!"
Ben's voice.
I spun toward the tracks.
Chuck—
He was on his back, arms shaking, as undead tore into him, ripping, pulling, chewing. His screams shredded the air.
Then silence.
Seconds later, he rose again, eyes empty, body twitching, and sprinted toward the group.
The others fired wildly, trying to slow the sprinting dead behind him. Kenny yelled over the chaos:
"WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU JUST STANDING THERE!? OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!"
But the old man still blocked the way, wide-eyed and shaking.
"GET AWAY FROM MY DOOR! I WON'T DIE FOR YOU! I WON'T—!"
His hands jerked.
BANG.
His skull exploded.
Clementine screamed. Lee grabbed her, frozen in shock.
He turned toward me.
My gun was raised.
Realization rippled across his face.
I holstered my weapon and climbed onto his shoulders before he could react. I hauled myself through the window, dropped inside, and unlocked every bolt.
The door slammed open.
"GO! GET IN!" I shouted.
The horde thundered closer. Newly turned runners shrieked as more undead poured from every shadow—hundreds, maybe thousands.
Lee held the door wide, voice cracking:
"MOVE! MOVE! COME ON!"
The group sprinted toward us; terror carved across every face. Clementine clung to my side, shaking violently as the horde swallowed the train behind us—a heaving mass of bodies, nothing but death.
Then—
A sharp scream tore out from behind me.
Clementine.
I spun instantly, heart slamming into my throat.
An old woman stood right behind me—ragged breath brushing my cheek. Her hair was matted, skin stretched tight over sharp bones. A rusted kitchen knife trembled in her hand, raised high.
Her eyes were empty. Wild. Stripped of humanity.
How had I missed her? Between the yelling, gunfire, and horde, I'd been tunnel-visioned—focused outside, not inside.
Her arm tensed, muscles twitching. The knife aimed straight at my chest.
"NO!" Clementine screamed, throwing herself at the woman, grabbing her wrist with both hands. The knife stopped inches from me.
Steel scraped through the air.
Clementine's fingers dug into the woman's wrist, twisting, straining. Her face contorted in terror and effort, teeth bared.
The old woman hissed and slashed downward.
The blade tore across Clementine's hand. A deep cut opened instantly.
I didn't hesitate.
I kicked the woman hard in the stomach. She slammed into the wall with a sickening crack, collapsing, hatred burning in her fading eyes.
Clementine covered her mouth, trying not to scream, clutching her bleeding hand.
I shot the woman in the head. She was dying anyway; it was better to stop her from becoming a bigger threat.
Clementine huddled in the corner, arm bleeding, face twisted in pain.
Lee stared at me, shocked, then turned back to the door as the group neared.
"We're coming! Hold the door open!" Kenny yelled, sprinting with everything he had. Omid and Christa followed.
Ben was last. The undead were already on him.
I fired at the closest walkers. Lee snapped back into focus, giving Ben enough time to dive inside.
Our guns clicked empty.
All we could do was pray.
One by one, the group burst through; Ben stumbling in last.
Lee slammed the door shut and locked it just as the undead crashed into it from outside.
"Why the fuck are there THIS many walkers in a remote area!?" Kenny growled, bracing the door.
"This isn't the time! Everyone—FIND SOMETHING HEAVY! Barricade it!" Lee shouted.
The horde surrounded the station. Walkers slammed into every wall, every window, every inch of the structure. Metal groaned, creaking like it would collapse. Arms shoved through shattered gaps, clawing desperately.
We dragged desks, shelves, crates—anything heavy—against the doors.
I drew my sword, hacking at the arms reaching through the windows. Limbs fell. Blood sprayed. More hands pushed through.
Above us—on the roof—scraping, pounding. The dead tried to break through.
We were surrounded.
Inside, the noise was deafening: growls, bangs, and cracking glass.
Everyone was terrified.
And even I was too.
The barricaded windows bulged inward. The ceiling creaked. The building trembled under the weight of thousands of undead.
It wouldn't hold.
Then—
A deafening BOOM tore through the world.
A blinding white flash lit the station. My ears rang.
Far away, the sky erupted in fire—an enormous cloud swallowing the treeline.
One thought hit me:
The government… dropped a bomb.
The explosion was so massive that the walkers reacted instantly. Thousands turned toward the blast, flooding in that direction.
Not all, but most.
The pressure on the building eased as the majority of the horde peeled away.
We were still surrounded. Still in danger.