The night refused to stay quiet.
Alexander remained motionless beside the broken window, his breathing slow and steady as his eyes tracked the empty road beyond the warehouse.
Several minutes passed before another silhouette emerged. It stepped onto the road from between two abandoned buildings, its movements stiff but purposeful. Unlike the wandering infected Alexander had encountered before, it never hesitated. It simply continued in the same direction as the two before it.
A fourth followed. Then a fifth.
Alexander's gaze sharpened.
One by one, dark figures appeared from different streets, side alleys, and collapsed storefronts. None of them made a sound beyond the occasional scrape of a shoe against cracked asphalt, yet every one of them moved toward the same destination.
They weren't wandering. They were migrating.
The realization settled almost instantly. This wasn't a coincidence.
It was a horde.
