The morning sun cast a golden glow over the motel as Wesker adjusted the strap of his bag, double-checking his weapons before heading out. The group had gathered near the parking lot, watching him prepare.
Lilly stood close, eyes flickering with an emotion she rarely showed—concern.
"Come back in one piece," she said.
Wesker smirked. "I will."
Carley, standing just a few feet away, looked anywhere but at them. Her grip on her pistol tightened, her head throbbing. A headache?
Wesker left in the car he had returned with Lilly from the pharmacy in, and the group dispersed to their assigned duties.
Kenny went over to the wall with Alicia and Nick and began to fortify the wall with planks and beams, making the front wall similar in height to the others.
Lilly went to the storage room, writing down everything they had, from medical supplies to water bottles. They were the lowest on the water bottles, but still had the tap running, so that was no issue.
Duck was back to drawing with Clem helping him, while her gaze continuously went over to Carley, who was lost in her world, leaning on the beam of the balcony above.
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It was lunchtime. Katjaa and Madison cooked today, even though Katjaa told her to rest, but she was persistent. The group began to eat. "We should rest after this," Kenny suggested having been tired out after fortifying the wall as much as he could.
"I agree," Lilly said.
Soon, they finished eating, and Alicia and Nick went to their room while Katjaa and Madison cleaned up the table.
Kenny went up to the RV to keep watch while Clementine sat beside the still-frozen-in-thought Carley.
Clementine, always observant, tapped on her shoulder. "Carley? Are you okay?"
Carley clenched her jaw, the burning in her chest making her snap. "I'm fine, Clem. Just drop it."
Before the girl could say anything else, Madison stepped in, placing a hand on Clem's shoulder. "Come on, Clem. Let's go inside."
Clem looked at Carley one last time, her face full of concern, before nodding and following Madison toward the Clark family.
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Nick sat on an upturned crate, running a whetstone over his knife in slow, measured strokes. The faint sound of metal scraping filled the room, mingling with the rhythmic flipping of magazine pages as Alicia lay sprawled on a worn-out mattress, lazily skimming through an old, tattered issue of People.
The door creaked open, drawing both of their attention. Madison entered first, her expression unreadable, followed closely by Clementine, who looked hesitant as she glanced between them.
Alicia sat up, tossing the magazine aside. "What happened?" she asked, picking up on the tension.
Madison exhaled, rubbing her temples before answering. "Carley's upset." She dropped onto the mattress beside Alicia, her voice carrying the weight of someone dealing with too much at once.
Nick's interest was piqued, and he set the knife down. "Why?" he asked, leaning forward slightly. He liked Carley—he wouldn't mind knowing what was going on.
Clementine hesitated, then finally said it. "She likes Wesker."
The words hung in the air for a second too long. Nick sucked in a sharp breath, and before he could stop himself, he choked on his own spit. He lurched forward, coughing violently.
Alicia raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. "You alright there?"
"Cough—yeah," he wheezed, pounding a fist against his chest. He quickly scrambled for composure, attempting to deflect the sudden heat of attention. "I just… didn't think someone would love that guy."
Alicia snorted, her lips curling into a smirk. "Might as well fall in love with a hurricane."
Madison shot them both a sharp look. "Cut it out. It's not our business who loves who. We need this group to stay together, not get tangled up in petty drama."
Alicia held her hands in surrender, the amusement still dancing in her eyes. "Alright, alright," she said lightly, though the playful smirk never fully faded.
Nick, on the other hand, scowled, his grip tightening on the wetstone. Wesker took everything for himself—supplies, authority, respect. And now, even the women. Seeing Lilly kiss him that morning only fueled his frustration. If Wesker had his pick, what was left for the rest of them? His eyes flicked toward Carley's door from the room's window. She liked Wesker; that much was obvious. But if she couldn't have him, maybe she'd be easier to sway.
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Outskirts of Macon:
Wesker POV:
Level Up +1
x425[Lv-1 Walker killed] 87 points added
x105[Lv-2 Walker killed] 42 points added
x5[Lv-3 Walker killed] 3 points added
"Fuck," I cursed as I felt my lungs run out of breath, and my clothes were shredded due to the walkers that got too close, even though my body was covered in guts and entrails, the walkers were able to point me out because of their herd mentality.
The higher-level ones detected my abnormal movement and started targeting me, creating a chain reaction.
"Shouldn't have been so full of myself," I muttered as my hands continued to move, swinging the axe in one hand and the cane in the other. I found myself surrounded by walkers in the hundreds.
Though I did level up, I don't even know what I got, and instead, I'm stuck in this tornado that surrounded me. I just need to get to that, I thought, looking at the tent ahead. But I couldn't because of the walkers surrounding it.
I can't use my gun either because right now, I only attract the attention of the walker of the outer circle when I kill the one nearest to me. If I were to use my gun, every walker beyond the first two layers would be attracted toward me.
And I had one more reason: I had a new quest.
[Quest: Kill 560/1000 Walkers:
Conditions: Only Melee count:
Time:2 Hours
Reward: ????]
'A fuck ton of conditions,' I thought, 'Hopefully it doesn't threaten me with death next,' I shuddered.
I shook my head and focused on the walkers. I brought down my axe on a peculiar walker, much faster and more durable.
It avoided my first swing by stopping it's pace, however it was unable to do the same to the next one.
x1[Lv-5 Walker killed] 1 points added
I saw the message on my system display.
My pace increased as my mind raced and my stamina depleted. 'What? I thought they were leveling up with me?' the hair on my hand stood straight, Fuck it, no time to think.
I continued to hack, slash, and stab with my weapons. Step by step, I was getting closer to the tent, and then it happened.
The sharpened grip of the cane broke, leaving only a stick in my hand. However, it was pointy enough to stab. I continued my onslaught, clearing my path of any walker.
If only I could find a machete or some kind of long blade, then I wouldn't have to swing this more than necessary heavy axe, which was slowing me down, along with my stamina running out, it was an unfavorable combo.
And It was slowly adding up as I reached the end of my strength. Suddenly, I thought of leveling up my [Metabolism] skill.
Metabolism Lv-2
Increased digestion efficiency, stamina regeneration, and minor toxin/venom resistance. Healing factor(-F).
Even though the healing factor's rank was the lowest, I could feel my minuscule scratches closing, I stopped the wound from closing; I didn't know what kind of Healing factor it was. If it was using my energy, then it was bad. I needed to reserve my energy and use it to restore my stamina and strength.
And it did just that by thinking of it; I could stop my healing, and adrenaline rushed through me once again, converting the energy for stamina instead of health.
I continued my hack and slash, moving forward. There weren't that many left anyway, maybe a thousand more. I just need to reach that tent. If I can get in and be out of their sight, I could rest for a bit.
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***
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