Garrett stepped cautiously into the town, his rifle at the ready, eyes scanning every corner. The eerie silence was suffocating, with only the distant groaning of the undead outside the town's invisible barrier filling the void. His every sense was heightened, trained to pick up even the smallest hint of movement. He knew Quest was here. Somewhere.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure standing in the shadows of a crumbling building. A silhouette—tall, cloaked in a dark hoodie. The figure hadn't moved, but Garrett could feel the intensity of the presence. It was unmistakable.
Quest.
Without hesitation, Garrett raised his rifle and fired. The shot rang out, echoing through the empty streets. But in the blink of an eye, the figure vanished. No movement, no sound—just gone, faster than Garrett could register.
"What the—?"
Before he could finish the thought, a sudden, overwhelming force struck him in the gut. The air was knocked from his lungs as he was sent hurtling backward, his body slamming into the brick wall of a nearby building with a bone-rattling crash. The impact cracked the structure, sending chunks of debris falling around him. The wall itself almost gave way under the sheer force of the blow.
Gasping for breath, Garrett's vision blurred for a moment, his mind reeling from the suddenness of it all. What just happened? He'd barely seen anything—just a flash of movement, and then the impact. He could barely process the speed at which Quest had moved. He hadn't just dodged the bullet. He had outpaced Garrett's reflexes entirely, moving faster than anything Garrett had ever encountered.
His body screamed in pain, but Garrett forced himself to focus, to push the pain aside. He lifted his head, his eyes locking onto the figure now standing a few feet away. Quest was standing there, his hood still up, his posture relaxed, as if the punch had taken no effort at all. His cold, dark brown eyes stared at Garrett, emotionless and calculating.
"You came all this way," Quest said, his voice low and chilling. "For what?"
Garrett gritted his teeth, trying to push himself off the wall. His entire body ached from the blow, but he couldn't show weakness. Not now.
"To take you down," Garrett growled, wiping a trickle of blood from his mouth. His hands clenched the rifle, though he knew now that it wouldn't be enough. Not against someone like this. "You're a threat to everyone left alive."
Quest tilted his head slightly, as if considering Garrett's words. His expression didn't change, but there was something almost amused in his gaze.
"You're not the first to try," Quest said coldly, taking a step forward, his movements so fluid and controlled that it was almost unnatural. "And you won't be the last."
Garrett tightened his grip on his weapon, his mind racing. This wasn't just a fight anymore—it was survival. Quest wasn't just fast; he was something beyond human, a predator that had no equal in this world of chaos. Every story Garrett had heard about him, every whispered rumor, it was all true.
And now, Garrett was face to face with the very thing that even the undead feared.
But Garrett Mason had never backed down from a hunt before. And he wasn't about to start now.