The hoe slammed into the frozen ground with a dull thunk, the impact vibrating all the way up Carl's arms.
He leaned his weight into the handle and dragged the blade through the stubborn earth, carving another shallow trench before stopping to catch his breath. Sweat rolled down his forehead despite the cold, stinging his eyes until he wiped it away with the sleeve of the faded gray jumpsuit they had forced him to wear.
The fabric already clung to him.
Dirty.
Damp.
Stained with mud and dried blood that wasn't entirely his.
Beyond the steel gates only a few yards away, dozens of infected crowded together in a restless mass.
Their snarls rose and fell like waves.
Rotting hands shoved through the narrow gaps in the bars, fingers clawing at empty air whenever Carl wandered too close. Faces pressed so hard against the metal that skin split open, fresh blood smearing across the rusted steel.
The gate groaned every few seconds.
Not because it was breaking.
