Theo tightened his grip on his axe, thinking another wave was coming, but instead, shadows emerged from hiding. Survivors.
A woman stood with a dirt-covered child clinging to her leg. An older man limped nearby, one hand braced on a broken broom handle. Two teenagers stood close behind, gripping makeshift weapons, metal rods and a kitchen knife wrapped in cloth. Their eyes were wary, faces hollow with exhaustion, but there was a flicker of relief as they looked at Theo.
Theo exhaled slowly, wiping sweat from his brow. "You're safe," he said softly. "For now."
The child peeked at him before hiding behind the woman's skirt again. The old man gave Theo a slow, shaky nod of gratitude.
"Listen carefully. Head straight down the road until you reach the west checkpoint. There's a small patrol gate there, not the main entrance."
He pointed in the direction they came from.
