The Wrong Kind of People

Day 19 – No Safe Roads

Mia Alvarez had never been a fan of open roads.

Before the world collapsed, highways had always made her uneasy—too many cars, too many distractions, too many chances for something to go wrong.

Now, highways weren’t just dangerous.

They were death traps.

She crouched behind the rusted shell of an overturned semi-truck, breathing slow, one hand gripping the pocket knife at her side.

Beside her, Leo—the twelve-year-old stray she had picked up four days ago—stayed completely still, his small fingers curled around a rusty screwdriver like it was a real weapon.

Across the highway, hidden in the trees, four men stood around a smoking fire, passing a bottle between them.

They were laughing.

Joking.

Like the world wasn’t rotting around them.

Mia’s stomach tightened.

She had seen men like them before.

They weren’t just scavengers.

They were the wrong kind of people.

She and Leo had been tracking along the side of the highway for most of the day, cutting through abandoned lots, staying off the main roads.

Then Leo had spotted the fire.

They had ducked for cover just in time to see four men in filthy clothing, armed with pistols and machetes, standing near the wreckage of a looted convenience store.

Mia had no interest in finding out what kind of people they were.

But the real problem?

They were camped right in front of the only bridge that crossed the river.

If she and Leo wanted to keep moving west, they had to find a way past them.

Leo exhaled slowly. "We could go around."

Mia shook her head. "No other way across for miles."

Leo frowned. "So what do we do?"

Mia didn’t answer right away.

Because the real question wasn’t how to get past them.

It was whether they should try at all.

Mia inched closer, pressing against the side of the truck.

The men’s voices carried through the cool evening air, their conversation casual, relaxed.

Too comfortable.

They weren’t afraid.

That meant they weren’t alone.

"...idiot thought he could run," one of them muttered, taking a swig from the bottle.

Another man laughed. "Yeah? How far’d he get?"

A third voice—low, gruff. "’Bout twenty feet before Tommy put him down."

Mia’s stomach tightened.

Leo glanced at her, his eyes wide. He had heard it too.

Mia swallowed.

There was no doubt now.

These weren’t just travelers.

They were killers.

And if they saw her and Leo…

There wouldn’t be a conversation.

Just bullets.

Mia turned back to Leo. "We wait for dark. Then we move."

Leo nodded. He didn’t argue.

He was a smart kid.

They crouched behind the truck for what felt like hours, the sun sinking below the trees, shadows stretching across the pavement.

The men by the fire kept talking, drinking, occasionally throwing scraps of food into the flames.

Finally—

One of them yawned. "I’ll take first watch. You assholes get some sleep."

The others grumbled, shuffling toward an overturned car, using it as a makeshift shelter.

One man stayed by the fire, gun resting in his lap, boots propped against a bloodstained cooler.

Mia exhaled.

One guard.

That was manageable.

She glanced at Leo. "Stay close. Stay quiet."

Leo nodded.

Then they moved.

They stuck to the shadows, keeping low as they crept along the edge of the road.

Mia’s heart hammered.

Step. Pause. Listen. Move.

The guard stared into the fire, his silhouette flickering in the glow.

Mia gritted her teeth. Just a little farther.

Then—

Leo slipped.

His foot scraped against a loose rock, sending a small, sharp sound into the night.

Mia’s breath caught.

The guard’s head snapped toward them.

Mia reacted instantly.

She lunged forward, grabbed Leo’s wrist, and yanked him down behind a wrecked sedan.

Footsteps crunched on gravel.

The guard was coming closer.

Mia tightened her grip on her knife.

If he saw them—

She’d have to kill him.

She wasn’t sure if she could.

But she wouldn’t let him take Leo.

The guard stopped just a few feet away, peering into the darkness.

Mia barely breathed.

The fire crackled behind him.

A long, agonizing silence.

Then—he sighed.

"Stupid animals," he muttered, turning back toward the fire.

Mia waited. Counted to ten.

Then she squeezed Leo’s arm. "Move."

They slipped through the shadows, stepping onto the bridge—

And finally, finally—

They were past them.

They walked for nearly an hour before Mia finally let herself relax.

She exhaled sharply, rubbing her temples. "That was too close."

Leo sat on the edge of the road, still catching his breath. "You were gonna kill him."

Mia hesitated.

Then—"Yeah."

Leo stared at the ground. "Why didn’t you?"

Mia swallowed.

Because she had been afraid.

Because some part of her had still hoped that maybe, just maybe, there was a way out that didn’t involve blood.

But deep down, she knew the truth.

Mercy didn’t work anymore.

She turned to Leo, voice quiet.

"Next time, I will."

Leo didn’t say anything.

He didn’t have to.

Because they both knew—

There would be a next time.