The focus shifts back to Carver's squad.
That day, a massive tide of walkers surged in like a breached dam, scattering them instantly.
"Shit! Stay on that Humvee!" Carver roared from the back of the truck, his eyes locked on the vehicle ahead as it weaved wildly through gaps in the horde.
That was the vehicle they had painstakingly modified before the apocalypse.
It belonged to Calista and Leah.
And now, in the chaos, that lunatic Lorenzo had stolen it.
Behind the wheel, Lorenzo showed no fear. Instead, his face was lit with near-manic excitement.
Calista had kept him on a tight leash this time, giving him no weapons, not even a knife.
The others were all mercenaries, alert and disciplined. Lorenzo had neither the chance nor the ability to steal anything.
Even so, he still managed to screw Calista over.
He slammed the accelerator to the floor.
He didn't care about collisions. The Humvee was instantly smeared with walker gore and fragments of broken limbs.
All he did was wrench the steering wheel back and forth, forcing a path through the horde.
"Is he insane?! Driving like that!" Wells cursed as he followed in the heavy truck.
He had to focus completely just to keep up with the Humvee ahead, which moved with no predictable pattern, all while dodging walkers lunging in from both sides.
"Lorenzo's got a death wish, and he's trying to drag us with him!" Mike shouted as he maneuvered the other Humvee through the chaos.
The rest clenched their teeth and reloaded.
They leaned out of the windows, clearing walkers blocking their path while trying to line up shots on Lorenzo. But the violent jolting and his erratic zigzagging made it nearly impossible to hit him.
Carver, Mike, Turner, Bossie, Jenson, Wells, Danny, and Ethan were like a pack of enraged hounds, locked onto the cunning mad dog ahead.
Lorenzo's driving skills were undeniably sharp. He used every bit of terrain to slow them down.
Several times, he even deliberately drove into dense clusters of walkers, trying to trap his pursuers.
"Turn left! Avoid that abandoned bus!" Bossie called out, acting as the convoy's navigator.
The two vehicles barely avoided the trap.
The chase dragged on from morning to dusk.
They had long since left the walker horde behind, but the deadly race on the road showed no signs of ending.
Lorenzo never stopped. He seemed determined to keep running to the ends of the earth.
"We're low on fuel!" Ethan reported over the radio from the truck, his voice tense.
"Same here!" Turner glanced at the fuel gauge. The red warning light was already on.
"Our fuel consumption is about the same. Lorenzo's running low too," Bossie said calmly.
He grabbed the radio and barked, "Jenson, take out his tires. Don't hit the body. Force him to stop."
Jenson was their sniper, the most accurate at hitting moving targets.
He took a deep breath and leaned halfway out the truck window. The violent shaking made it hard to steady himself.
Squinting one eye, he lined up his sights on the rear right run-flat tire of Lorenzo's Humvee.
"Bang! Bang!"
Two controlled shots.
The first clipped the edge of the tire, throwing off sparks.
The second punched clean through the sidewall.
A sharp hiss followed as pressurized air burst from the hole.
The run-flat tire didn't collapse immediately, but it was enough to seriously affect stability and speed.
The Humvee lurched hard. Lorenzo fought the wheel to keep it from flipping, but the vehicle slowed sharply.
He tried to keep going, but with one tire compromised, the Humvee was like a crippled beast, no longer able to perform as before.
"Box him in!" Carver ordered.
The two vehicles accelerated, flanking the damaged Humvee and forcing it off toward an abandoned gravel lot.
The Humvee finally shuddered to a stop, its tires carving deep grooves into the gravel.
Eight mercenaries rushed out.
Carver, Mike, Turner, and Bossie advanced in a loose arc toward the driver's side.
Lorenzo tried to make a last stand, kicking the door open and attempting to bolt.
But Mike was already there. He drove a brutal kick into Lorenzo's lower back.
"Ugh!" Lorenzo cried out as he hit the ground.
He tried to push himself up, but Carver was already on him. The hard sole of his boot slammed down on Lorenzo's back, pinning him firmly against the gravel.
"Run! You son of a bitch! Go on, run!" Carver's eyes were bloodshot with fury.
He thought of Calista, Leah, and Merle being scattered by the horde, and how this lunatic had nearly gotten them all killed.
Carver raised his fist and brought it down hard on Lorenzo's face.
"Thud!"
One punch broke his nose, blood pouring out instantly.
"This is for Calista!"
"Thud!"
Another punch. Lorenzo's left eye swelled shut, turning black and blue.
"This is for Leah!"
"Thud!"
A third punch. His right eye followed, swelling just as badly.
"This is for Merle!"
"Thud!"
Another hit. Lorenzo spat out blood mixed with half a broken tooth.
"This one's for the ones who barely made it out alive!"
Lorenzo was reduced to a punching bag, completely unable to fight back, only managing weak groans.
Mike joined in, driving a vicious kick into his ribs.
The others stood around, watching coldly. No one stepped in. In their eyes, he deserved every bit of it.
It didn't take long before Lorenzo was beaten beyond recognition, sprawled on the ground like a torn sack, barely breathing, on the verge of death.
Just as Carver raised his fist again to finish him off, Bossie, who had been watching in silence, suddenly stepped forward and grabbed his wrist.
"That's enough, Carver."
"Let go of me, Bossie! I'm going to kill him!" Carver struggled, still seething.
Bossie held firm. He glanced at Lorenzo, barely clinging to life, then looked at Carver and Mike.
"Calista said to keep him alive. The Sentinel Station's security system still needs him. If we kill him now, who's going to crack those systems? You want us to throw our lives at it instead?"
The words hit like cold water, instantly cooling their rage.
Carver panted heavily, staring down at Lorenzo, who lay there like a dead dog. After a moment, he clenched his jaw and stepped back.
He waved at Turner and Wells. "Tie him up. Throw him in the Humvee's trunk. Stop the bleeding. Don't let him die."
Then he turned to Ethan and Danny. "Check the Humvee. Swap in the spare tire."
Turner and Wells dragged Lorenzo up roughly, bound him tightly with nylon rope, and tossed him into the trunk.
Bossie gave him basic first aid to stop the bleeding.
On the other side, Ethan and Danny got to work replacing the damaged tire with practiced efficiency.
While they worked, Bossie pulled out a carefully folded map and spread it across the hood.
His finger tapped a spot in Georgia, Griffin.
"Here," Bossie said, "the rendezvous point Calista mentioned. A prison in Griffin."
Everyone's eyes fixed on that small point.
The tire was replaced quickly.
Carver glanced at the unconscious Italian pretty boy in the trunk, now more like a battered pig's head, and spoke to the others.
"We're heading to the prison in Griffin. We wait for them there."
...
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