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Jayson Part I

Northern Nevada

Jayson's first thought after leaving the facility behind was of Monica. At first, her betrayal cut deep into his soul. He didn't want to be alone, and he especially didn't want to be without her. He meant what he said in Arizona; he was irrevocably, head-over-heels, stupid in love with her. She'd chosen to stay behind, in that God-awful compound, with the enemy. She'd chosen them.

She wasn't safe there. Surely, Monica had to know that. Jayson had seen Benson leer at her more than once, watching her with lust in his eyes. Everything about that man gave him the heebie-jeebies. The way Benson spoke, twisting everyone's words, so he seemed to be acting in humanity's best interests, tinged Jayson's vision red.

Colonel Benson was evil. He'd imprisoned Jeannie, turned Taylor against him, and now Monica. They were all isolated and Jayson himself was alone.

Even worse, he'd fallen into that man's trap, acting on pure emotion. Had he been given meds to curb the withdrawals, Jayson might have acted differently. He wouldn't have unleashed his fury on Taylor and beat him to within an inch of his life.

That first night in the mountains, huddling in his fleece jacket, Jayson sobbed. He cried for his broken friendships, and most of all, he wept for the shame that washed over him. His actions had been despicable, and he had only himself to blame.

Unfortunately, his pity-party was shortlived. Not even an hour after the sun had set, he'd been awoken by the sound of several engines. There had been no shelter available across the stretch of land, and he'd been forced to sleep beneath the stars in the cooling air. In early September, it wasn't cold enough yet for snow, but it would be soon. The approaching winter wasn't his only issue though. Despite the lack of human zombies, there were still wild animals to worry about. One bite was all he'd need to fall victim to the disease. With that in mind, he lat low to the ground, trying to get a better look at the vehicles driving off-road in the distance. The silloehettes were difficult to make out in the dark, but something in his gut had told him these people weren't friendly. When the vehicles slowed, he flattened himself to the ground. Whoever was inside, they were searching for something.

Was it possible Benson had sent someone after him?

The thought was ludicrous. Perhaps Jayson was paranoid, and this vehicle wasn't from the compound. But if it wasn't theirs, then who were these people? The trucks had the military armored body—that much he could discern. Was it possible a civillian had acquired one in the past week?

He had so many questions, and until they were answered, he'd have to remain out of sight. The trucks continued, slowly moving over the rough terrain. Jayson waited until they were far enough away for him to move without being detected. Tightening the straps on his bag, he trekked forward, careful not to roll his ankle on a loose rock. The ground was uneven and sloped, making travel in the dark almost impossible.

An animal howled in the distance, and Jayson froze as something darted between the brambles nearby. A small rabbit skittered away, and his heart rate spiked. When the creature sped away from him, he expelled a relieved sigh. Stuck in the middle of nowhere with only his hunting knife left him exposed. If an animal turned and came upon him, he'd be screwed.

Unable to sleep with the thought of what might hunt him in the middle of the night, he picked up his trek again. Several miles passed before he came upon a stream. Unloading his bag, he checked his canteen. It was still half full, but he'd need more water as he traveled. Unfortunately, he had no way to know if the water was clean or if the virus lived in boiling temperatures. He'd have to take his chances though and hope for the best.

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