The Capital of the Dead - Karen

Original Character
Road to Despair.
The Highway of Doom

The sun began to set as Karen Bravo advanced along the Panamericana Sur highway, her steps echoing on the empty asphalt. The sky, dyed red by the sunset, projected a disturbing aura over the desolation that surrounded her. The trip to Arequipa would be long, and each kilometer represented a challenge between life and death.

Karen had managed to steal a motorcycle from an abandoned workshop. Although the tank was only half full, she hoped it would at least take her far enough to leave Lima behind. The engine roared loudly as he crossed small abandoned towns, but his concentration was absolute: any strange noise could mean danger.

Suddenly, in the middle of the road, he found an overturned truck. His heart raced when he saw that there were fresh traces of blood. He stopped the motorcycle and took out his gun, advancing cautiously towards the vehicle.

-Hello? Is there anyone there? —he asked quietly, although he knew it was an unnecessary risk.

A faint moan responded from inside the truck. Karen looked out carefully and found an injured man, his face pale and one leg trapped under the weight of the vehicle.

“Please… help me,” the man begged, extending a bloody hand toward her.

Karen quickly assessed the situation. He couldn't stay there for long, but he didn't have the heart to let him die either. He took a crowbar out of his backpack and began to use force to free his leg. However, the man's moan turned into a desperate cry.

—Don't move! —Karen ordered, but it was too late.

From the nearby bushes, several infected began to emerge, attracted by the noise. His eyes flashed with rage, and his clumsy movements became a mad dash towards his position. Karen cursed under her breath as she shot at the closest ones. One after another they fell, but there were too many of them.

—More are coming! Let me! —the man shouted, aware of his destiny.

Karen gritted her teeth. I couldn't save him and I knew it. With a knot in his chest, he backed away from the motorcycle as the infected surrounded the trapped man. Their screams were quickly muffled in a sea of ​​teeth and claws. Without looking back, Karen started the motorcycle and accelerated, leaving that infernal scene behind.

Hours later, he stopped the motorcycle at an abandoned gas station. The place seemed deserted, but there was no trust. He scanned the area with the flashlight and found some supplies: a bottle of water, a lighter, and an old map. While checking, he heard a noise inside the store.

—Who's there? he asked, pointing his gun.

A figure staggered out of the shadows. Karen was about to shoot when she realized it wasn't an infected. It was a girl, no older than 12, covered in dirt and with eyes full of fear.

"Don't shoot..." the girl whispered, raising her hands. I'm just hiding.

Karen lowered the gun slowly, sighing.

Continue:
https://www.deviantart.com/chuchacomics/art/1141777777