Only after the seven hunters had disappeared did Zhou and the other three, still hidden behind the rocks fifty meters away, relax slightly.
"Damn, bunch of redneck hunters," Murphy muttered with a hint of contempt. "That leader, Joe, has a nasty edge to him. He looks dangerous. The rest seem mediocre."
Leslie chimed in, "They don't look too bright either. And that Dan... what the fuck is wrong with that guy?"
Leon nodded. "They're almost out of supplies. Desperate, cautious, but still clinging to hope. Classic cornered-animal mentality."
Zhou never took his eyes off the direction the group had gone.
"They're perfect."
"Perfect for what?" Leslie asked.
"Bait," Zhou replied.
Leon immediately understood. "But it's risky. There are seven of them, and they're armed. They're not walkers. If we follow too closely, they could spot us. And if something really is wrong with Terminus, they're walking straight into their deaths."
"That's why they're bait."
Zhou's reasoning was frighteningly clear.
He stood and stretched his knees, stiff from crouching for so long.
"We keep our distance and follow carefully. Let them test the road ahead.
"Whether Terminus is genuinely friendly or a trap, seven armed men walking in there are bound to cause some kind of reaction.
"We stay outside and watch. That's a lot safer than blindly poking around ourselves."
Murphy grinned. "You really are a sneaky bastard, brother."
Leslie thought about it, then nodded.
"There are seven of them. They'll definitely make more noise than the four of us. If something happens, we can pull out. They..."
He left the rest unsaid, but the meaning was obvious.
"Then it's settled," Zhou said decisively. "Keep our distance and follow them.
"Remember, we're not here to save anyone.
"We're here to watch the show. Move."
The four slipped out of hiding and, using the terrain and vegetation for cover, began trailing the redneck hunters from afar.
The seven hunters stumbled their way through the forest while Zhou's team patiently maintained a safe distance of roughly a hundred and fifty meters, using the trees as cover to follow without a sound.
The forest felt oppressive.
Once they left the billboard block, the so-called road quickly disappeared beneath wildly overgrown shrubs and fallen trees.
The hunters were forced back into thicker woodland, following what looked like an animal trail.
They clearly had little experience moving quietly.
The amount of noise they made had Zhou frowning from behind.
"Holy shit. Are these idiots throwing a party?"
Leon lay prone along the bank of a small stream, watching through gaps in the sparse reeds.
The crack of dry branches under the hunters' boots, the rustle of backpacks scraping against brush, and even their lowered voices carried surprisingly far through the silent forest.
"They're nervous," Murphy said beside him, binoculars raised. "Their formation's even looser than before. One skinny guy keeps looking back. What are they so afraid of?"
"Probably walkers," Leslie replied. "Woods like these look empty, but there are always plenty of walkers around."
Sure enough, trouble found them soon enough.
After more than an hour of following them, the forest became denser and the light dimmer.
The hunters appeared to be trying to cross a low hollow blanketed in a thick layer of half-rotted leaves.
The ground there was soft underfoot and quieter to walk on.
At the far end of the hollow, however, lay a weed-choked dirt road left behind by pre-apocalypse logging.
Several dilapidated wooden cabins leaned beside it, nearly swallowed by vines.
Just as Lou, who was scouting ahead, was about to leave the edge of the hollow, something suddenly happened.
"Jesus Christ!"
Lou shouted in alarm.
A deafening shotgun blast followed immediately.
Bang!
The shot thundered through the enclosed forest, sending birds exploding from the trees.
"Damn it! What happened, Lou?!" Joe shouted.
"S-Something came out of the cabin!"
Lou's voice trembled as he backed away, fumbling to reload his shotgun.
The gunshot quickly attracted exactly what they didn't want.
From inside the ruined cabins and behind the thick brush along the hollow came shuffling footsteps and the unmistakable rasping groans of walkers.
More than one.
"Walkers! Spread the fuck out! Find cover!" Joe shouted.
His order came quickly enough, but panic had already begun spreading through the group.
The hunters scattered like a disturbed nest of hornets, rushing toward trees and rocks for cover.
Gunfire erupted almost immediately.
Bang after bang.
No coordination.
No rhythm.
Billy fired at a rotting walker crawling through the window of one of the cabins, but his shot only struck its shoulder.
The walker staggered and kept coming.
Len raised his AR-15 and fired a short burst, dropping a walker emerging from the brush to one side.
But the gunfire only drew more.
The situation descended into chaos.
The hunters clearly had little experience fighting groups of walkers together and relied mostly on individual instinct.
That was when the difference between them became obvious.
Joe was clearly an experienced hunter.
His aim was precise, almost every shot striking the head.
The others were far less capable.
And Dan, the heavyset pedophile, was by far the worst.
He completely panicked.
He had originally been walking near the rear, in one of the safest positions and farthest from the walkers.
The instant the shooting started, he screamed like a startled rabbit and bolted with his hands over his head.
Straight into the deeper part of the hollow.
Away from his companions.
"Dan! You fucking idiot! Get your ass back here!"
Even in the middle of the fighting, Joe spotted him and erupted in fury.
Dan ignored him completely.
All he cared about was escaping.
The leaves covering the hollow were thick and slippery.
He lost his footing and fell, dropping his shotgun in the process.
He scrambled back up without even bothering to retrieve it and continued fleeing on hands and feet toward an especially dense patch of thorny brush, apparently thinking he could hide there.
But Dan had chosen the wrong direction.
Two walkers, drawn by the gunfire and the presence of living people, were already staggering toward him from that exact direction.
They cut off his escape.
Dan ran straight into the two grotesque walkers.
His face went pale with terror, his legs gave out, and he slipped again.
One walker snarled and lunged.
Dan barely managed to throw up an arm.
Its rotting teeth clamped down hard on the thick sleeve of his jacket.
Fortunately, the fabric was heavy and appeared to be a padded winter jacket.
The teeth failed to penetrate immediately.
But the terror was enough to break Dan completely.
He screamed like a slaughtered pig, thrashing and kicking wildly.
The second walker bent down and clawed toward his leg.
Farther away, Joe and the others were already struggling against five or six walkers.
There was no chance they could come save him.
"Help! Joe! Lou! Help me! Aaaah!"
Dan's piercing screams only seemed to excite the walkers further.
From behind a rock at the edge of the hollow farther back, Zhou and his three companions watched the scene in silence.
"That piece of trash is finished," Leon said with a curl of his lip.
There wasn't the slightest trace of sympathy in his voice.
"Did it bite through?" Murphy asked, studying the scene carefully through his binoculars. "First one got stopped by his sleeve. Second one went for his leg, but he kicked it away."
"Hahaha, he probably pissed himself already," Leslie said with obvious disgust.