The sun shone above us as Chloe barked incessantly at the zombie inside the gas station. Spurred to greater efforts by the noise, the zombie pounded on the window in its desire to get to her.

"Enough, Chloe. Quiet," I told her firmly as I tried to pry the hinges off.

She quit barking, but her eyes never left the zombie that was watching her. Finally, I managed to get a window open and climbed in, leaving Chloe outside.

These remote, rural stores and gas stations were smaller than many houses and only carried the bare essentials. This one only contained five small aisles of shelving, but the shelves at least had supplies on them. The owner had likely kept looters at bay, and right on cue, the zombie finally noticed my presence and turned around with a growl. I snarled at the shopkeeper's welcome.

With another low growl, he turned back to the window and tried to claw his way through the pane of glass separating him from the dog. With an attitude like that, it's no wonder he has no customers today. Then again, I'm a terrible customer. I never pay for anything I take. He wouldn't complain though; he was long past caring about something as trivial as the fancy printed paper that still resided in the cashier's till.

I restocked my backpack, taking out some of the less desirable foods to make room for better stuff. This gas station even had a few dog treats and cans of fruit. I managed to wedge several small bottles of juice into the last bit of available space.

I exited through the window and closed it behind me.

"Alright, Chloe. Let's go."

Chloe promptly trotted over with a slightly wagging tail. She kept just out of my reach but seemed quite happy to be leaving the area. As I started a slow lope toward the trees, she ran ahead of me, eager to get away from the zombie in the gas station.

The wind stirred the branches of the trees ahead of me and had me sliding to a stop as I turned to face upwind. I sniffed the air again as the virus stirred at the faint scent of human blood.

I hesitated; my original human inclination was to help out, but the darker side of me was far too tempted by that scent. Human blood was much more potent than the regular smell of humans. Not only would I have to fight against the bloodlust, but if the person was armed, he or she may very well strike first and ask questions later.

I took another deep breath. The scent was very faint, far too weak for the other zombies to notice, let alone track. The injured person was a couple of miles away, and even if I ran, it would take me some time to get there.

The breeze blew a few loose strands of my hair away from my face, bringing with it a stronger scent. There must be a lot of blood; otherwise, I wouldn't be able to pick up this much detail at this sort of distance. The scent was that of a child. That decided it for me.

With a whistle to Chloe, I began running in the ditch beside the road since it was faster than trying to move through the trees. Thankfully, no zombies were in sight.

Chloe bounded out of the bushes and quickly followed. Runners may come close to matching a human's speed, but Nightstalkers were faster. I pushed for speed until Chloe was almost running full tilt. I was glad I had hunted last night – my control should be good enough to handle being around spilt human blood. Or so I hope.

After roughly ten minutes, Chloe was breathing hard. Then again, so was I. It was a long time to run at such a speed, even for me. The smell of blood was much stronger now, so I didn't slow down. We were almost there.

We were close enough that I could pick up the scents of several other people as well. Farther up the road, a car with its hood propped open had five zombies cramming themselves into the broken windows.

Chloe growled breathlessly when she finally saw the zombies. I slowed slightly as we passed them in a wide circle. The zombies were feeding on a man and a girl who had recently died, likely killed by the ones swarming them. I lifted my nose to the air and winced as the scent of fresh human blood made my throat burn in desire. The virus in my blood urged me to go join them.

Beneath the heady perfume of the blood, I was also able to detect another trail left by the humans who had escaped. And more zombies. With a conscious effort, I continued down the road.

I darted into the trees to keep out of sight and slowed to a pace that a human jogger could have kept up with. I may have possessed great strength and speed, but zombies still had limits. I wasn't desperate for a rest, but our hard pace had me breathing heavily. Nightstalkers were built for an ambush or bursts of speeds, not long-distance races.

I slunk through the undergrowth, letting my Nightstalker habits become more prominent. Chloe's panting dropped farther back as she gave me more space.

We rounded a bend and finally spotted the surviving humans. A man and woman were slowly retreating as they protected a young girl from four zombies.

Where had all of these zombies come from? I had barely seen any on our journey today. I huffed in irritation, knowing these two weren't going to be able to defend themselves for much longer. They were already breathing hard, and their clumsiness was the sort that appeared when someone was exhausted and at the end of their energy.

Chloe took the initiative and charged forward, running around the zombies in a wide circle while barking at them. The dense creatures seemed surprised by the loud dog, although it confused the humans as well.

I made my way through the trees, still remaining out of sight. I wouldn't be lucky enough for the zombies to chase Chloe since the scent of a human was far more tempting than that of any animal – as I well knew.

I sniffed the air again and growled deeply as I looked around for the new foe I could smell. My eyes narrowed when I finally spotted the Runner coming from the other direction. It had probably been alerted by the noise, and unfortunately for the humans, it had them in its sights now.

The adults were still trying to fend off the other four zombies, and in their distraction, they didn't see the fifth one approaching from behind. I clenched my teeth in annoyance and frustration. I wasn't sure whose luck was worse, mine or theirs.

As much as I detested how their scent made the virus clamor for their blood, I wanted to see them live more. My human life had been ripped away from me with zero warning, and I didn't want to see a child killed in front of me, especially when it was within my power to stop it.

I pushed for speed and ran through the forest before darting out to intercept the Runner. I reached between my back and my backpack to pull out my deadliest weapon. The grain sickle had originally come from a museum, but I had sharpened it into a lethal weapon capable of slicing through a zombie's neck.

The Runner snarled at me as I approached, and I returned the greeting. It dismissed my presence and turned its focus back to the humans now that it knew I wasn't a tasty snack. It wasn't interested in challenging me when it had prey in sight.

It was an unwritten rule that zombies wouldn't try to kill each other. To hell with that rule. I never signed my name on any dotted line. I darted behind the Runner and swung the curved blade around its throat before yanking back and using my free hand to push its head sideways.

With a gurgle and a twist, the blade managed to sever the spinal cord, letting the Runner's head fall to the ground while its body collapsed. I kicked its head away from the stump of the neck. If they were to touch even the tiniest bit, they would eventually heal, although it would take a couple of weeks to do so. The only way to truly kill a zombie was to cut off its head. Any other injuries would eventually heal.

I glanced back and was satisfied that none of the humans had noticed the events occurring behind them, although they were thoroughly occupied by the zombies they were keeping at bay. I wiped my blade on the grass to give it a quick clean, although I didn't put it away yet. A quick sniff and check of my clothing reassured me that none of the Runner's blood was on my clothes. I didn't have to worry about infection since I was already a zombie, but I still didn't want its scent lingering on my clothes.

I turned my attention back to the adults; they were holding off the four zombies with baseball bats, of all things. Considering how clumsy and slow the zombies were, they must have chased the car for a long distance. The difference was noticeable, even for normal zombies. It was probably the only reason the adults were managing to fend them off.

I walked a few steps to the side and picked up a crowbar. Judging from how the man's scent clung to it, he must have been carrying it. I raised the piece of steel above my head and threw it with my Nightstalker strength.

It whizzed through the air and slammed into the head of the closest zombie with a sickening crunch, causing it to fall into the two that were behind it. The three zombies went down in a heap, leaving one farther back still standing. The man and lady jumped and spun around, finally seeing me not far behind them.

I bent down to grab a fist-sized rock before doing my best impression of a baseball pitcher to whip it forward. It crunched into the skull of the fourth zombie, and it collapsed. Severe injury to the brain would knock a zombie out cold, but even that sort of damage would heal within a couple of weeks.

The other two were regaining their feet like drunken sailors on a storm-tossed ship. Simply watching their clumsy attempts to get to their feet was almost painful. No wonder regular zombies slept standing up.

I shook my head as the staggering zombies finally stood upright again. If they noticed their two unconscious companions, they gave no sign of it. The man took new courage and stepped forward, slamming his baseball bat against the side of a zombie's head. It fell to the ground and went still.

Since they were no longer so badly outnumbered, I cleaned my sickle with a tissue from my pocket. The lady's bat glanced off of the last zombie's head, causing it to stagger, but it didn't fall. The man rectified that with one more desperate swing.

I put my sickle back in its sheath and examined the three survivors. I didn't smell any blood coming from them, so they hadn't been injured, which was a small miracle considering how common minor scrapes and abrasions were. They smelled strongly of fear and terror from their fight for survival. These two weren't fighters and clearly possessed no such abilities in that area.

This also meant they lacked the necessary skills to make it to the nearest Stronghold under their own power, and I hadn't even found a Stronghold in the last three days. I sighed as I realized that I would have to help them if they were to have any chance of surviving until we found other humans. Lovely, just what I needed. Babysitting duty.

The couple backed away from the zombies, and the woman knelt down to hug the girl in relief. The child looked to be about four years old and was oddly calm, as if she didn't understand what had happened.

When the man glanced back at me, he did a double-take when he noticed the headless zombie nearby. Still breathing hard, he stared in apprehension at the zombie-killing stranger who had apparently appeared out of nowhere just in the nick of time. Chloe trotted between us with a wagging tail, looking between them and me like she was some sort of furry mediator. At the sight of the dog, he relaxed slightly.

The man slowly walked forward with his hand outstretched. "Thanks for your help. We wouldn't have made it without your assistance. I'm Tom."

My dark glasses hid my red eyes, and he hadn't seen me take out the Runner to notice my speed or realize that the dead zombie hadn't been a regular one. I walked forward, keeping my movements human-like. It took almost all of my willpower to not grimace at the thought of touching a human.

I shook his hand while taking care that my sharp nails didn't brush against his skin. My instincts were torn between completely detesting the contact and wanting to eat him. I dropped his hand after one shake.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Trinity." My voice was gruffer than I had intended, although I didn't particularly care.

To say that I was happy to meet them was more than a bit of a lie. I would have preferred it if they had remained in whatever Stronghold they had come from. I was somewhat irritated by the fact that this group had decided to take a scenic detour.

At least two people – one of which had been a child – had paid for it with their lives, and I wasn't looking forward to being their guide. Their proximity was triggering instincts that would terrify them if they ever discovered the truth.

"What are you doing out here on foot? You don't look like fighters to me."

The lady came forward, holding the girl's hand. "Our car broke down, and the zombies showed up before we could fix it. I'm Marissa, by the way."

"Why did you leave your Stronghold to drive down a remote backroad? I haven't found a Stronghold around here yet."

Her shoulders drooped tiredly. "We were actually trying to find one. We've been hiding inside an old mansion, but we ran out of food two days ago. It had a huge fence that kept the zombies out."

I blinked in surprise; it hadn't occurred to me that they were one of the groups still trying to get to safety. The young girl walked forward and held my hand. I had to suppress the urge to yank my hand free.

She looked up at me with hope in her eyes. "Marissa said we were going to a safe place where there were no zombies. Are you and your dog going to take us there?"

Talk about being put on the spot. Neither of the adults spoke, but their eyes held the same hope. The girl still held my hand tightly; if she squeezed any harder, my nails would pierce her skin from her own grasp.

Trying to think about how my old human self would have acted, I crouched down so my head was level with hers and asked, "What's your name?"

"Liz."

The scent of her breath hit me and sent my bloodlust into overdrive. I had a hard time keeping my reaction from giving me away. Okay, maybe pretending to be human wasn't such a good idea.

I carefully controlled myself as I took another breath to speak. "Liz, I won't lie to you. I've been walking along this road for a while, and I haven't found a Stronghold. However, I know that there is a larger highway to the west that some people drive along regularly, and they'll probably offer you a ride. If nothing else, I'll stick around until you get someplace safe."

I didn't bother mentioning that regularly meant once or twice a week. Liz nodded enthusiastically before wrapping her arms around my neck in a tight hug. I awkwardly returned the gesture as I gritted my teeth. My control was near its limits as her hair brushed against my face and her hug pressed her body right against my neck and chest.

I breathed through my mouth so her scent couldn't tempt me as badly. It was a good thing my glasses prevented them from catching any glimpse of my eyes. I knew they would be glowing brightly from how high my instincts were. We had better get to the highway or find a Stronghold quickly.

Breaking Liz's hold, I stood up to put some space between me and the child before the situation got any dicier. Tom and Marissa looked relieved to hear that I was going to help them. I doubt they would be so relieved if they saw my eyes.

"We had better get moving. I assume you came from that direction?" I pointed back the way I had come, the same direction as the car and its gruesome contents.

Tom winced. "Yeah, but you don't want to go back that way. There were at least a dozen zombies following us from the last town. Thank you for helping us, Trinity."

It was almost strange to hear my name after so long. I pulled out my battered map and examined our immediate area. It was a good thing I checked – this road didn't connect to the highway anytime soon.

I glanced down at the pavement; the scattering of unbroken, weathered twigs showed that no vehicles had driven along this remote road in months. I had always known my luck stank; this was just further proof of the fact that life loved to rub it in my face at every opportunity.

The big highway to the west was one I had actually walked along before. The problem was that a large stretch of forest stood between us and it. We were going to have to do this the hard way. Of course.

"We're going to have to travel cross-country for some distance, so we better get moving."

I was hoping a group would pass along the highway shortly after we reached it. Most Strongholds welcomed survivors. Well, at least if they weren't zombies.

"Through that scary forest?" Liz asked, creeping forward to hold my hand again as she gazed at the trees in worry. I wasn't sure why Liz had decided to cling to me like lint on my favorite sweater.

"The zombies down the road are scarier than the animals that live in the forest," I told the child somewhat gruffly.

I pulled my hand free and went over to reclaim the crowbar. I was impressed by the way it had flown, and I really didn't have any sort of ranged weapon. Truth be told, I didn't need one with my speed and strength, but I wanted to avoid melee fights unless these people were unable to see it. I had no idea how they would react if I attacked a zombie with a hand weapon at unnatural speeds.

I pulled a disinfectant wipe out of a small ziplock bag and wiped the crowbar clean, ensuring I scrubbed the few drops of blood off. Once zombie blood dried, it wasn't infectious, but until then, it was best if humans steered clear of the deadly stuff.

After hooking the crowbar through a strap on the side of my backpack, I began walking. Marissa took Liz's hand and followed me. Tom walked behind them, warily glancing around. Chloe pranced alongside us and occasionally disappeared into the underbrush as she explored.

I kept a careful eye on my surroundings as I surreptitiously tested the air for any potential threat. Only the sound of our footsteps broke the silence. Liz didn't seem like the type to talk much, and the adults were probably still trying to come to terms with their friends' deaths. I wasn't sure how to speak softly or how to attempt to console someone anymore, so I let them grieve in silence.

After an hour of walking down the deer trail, they were breathing hard. Tom was carrying Liz on his shoulders, but they had obviously been cooped up wherever they had been and were out of shape for a hike through a forest. Their recent close call and running for their lives hadn't helped either.

"We need to stop for a rest," Tom panted.

I nodded as I slowed to a stop. Tom put Liz down, and all three of them sat down on a fallen log tiredly. Chloe nudged her head against Tom's legs, and he rubbed her ears.

Liz looked up at me with big, pleading eyes. "Can I have a drink? Please?"

I pulled off my backpack and dug through it. I didn't dare share the water from my water bottle since any traces of my saliva would likely carry the zombie virus. My stop at the gas station had been a blessing. I passed each of them a bottle of fruit juice.