The cool night air wrapped around Leon and Eric as they stepped out of the hidden tunnel and into the dense forest. The moon cast pale silver light over the thick canopy, making the world seem eerily peaceful, a deceptive calm before the storm.

Leon inhaled deeply, letting the fresh scent of pine and damp earth settle his nerves. No more sterile air. No more artificial lights. No more concrete walls trapping them.

But he knew better than to relax.

They had six days before the world descended into chaos. Every second counted.

“We need to find shelter,” Leon said, adjusting his backpack. “Somewhere secure, hidden, and easy to defend.”

Eric frowned. “Like a house?”

Leon shook his head. “No. Houses are death traps. Thin walls, too many windows, and once people start turning, they’ll be crawling with the infected.”

He scanned the forest, his mind racing through his past life’s experiences.

What was the best place to bunker down?

Then it hit him.

A hunting lodge.

Leon led Eric through the forest, moving swiftly but cautiously.

Time was precious, but rushing blindly was how people died.

His memory served him well, somewhere deep within these woods was an old abandoned hunting lodge. In his past life, he had stumbled across it months into the apocalypse, when it was already overrun by survivors-turned-bandits.

Not this time.

This time, he would claim it first.

After nearly an hour of trekking, Leon spotted the outline of a wooden cabin nestled between thick trees.

It was perfect.

Remote – Far from cities and roads, meaning fewer infected.

Defensible – Solid log walls, minimal windows, and a chokepoint entrance.

Resource-rich – Surrounded by the forest for hunting, rivers for water, and plenty of wood for fortifications.

Leon stopped at the treeline, scanning for movement. No signs of life.

Still, he wasn’t about to take chances.

“Stay back,” he whispered to Eric. “I’ll check inside first.”

Eric nodded and stepped behind a tree, gripping his stolen pistol tightly.

Leon approached the cabin silently, drawing his combat knife. His military instincts kicked in.

First step: Check the surroundings.

He circled the cabin, scanning for any threats. No fresh footprints, no signs of looters. Good.

Second step: Entry.

The front door was locked. He could force it open, but that would make noise. Instead, he moved to the back window, pried it open with his knife, and slipped inside.

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The air was stale, but the cabin was untouched. Old furniture, a stone fireplace, mounted deer heads, exactly as he remembered.

Leon checked the rooms one by one, knife in hand, breath steady.

All clear.

Leon unlocked the front door and waved Eric inside.

“Welcome to our base,” he said.

Eric exhaled in relief, setting down his bag. “This place is actually kinda nice.”

Leon nodded. Now, the real work began.

Preparations:

Fortifications: First, they would reinforce the windows and doors with wooden planks. Zombies might be slow at first, but humans? Desperate survivors would be a bigger problem.

Food & Water: The lodge had a well nearby, but they needed extra water storage. Hunting and gathering supplies would come next.

Weapons & Tools: The military facility gave them a head start, but they needed more. Leon made a mental note to search nearby hunting outposts for weapons and traps.

Escape Routes: Never get trapped. He would dig an emergency tunnel leading into the woods, just in case.

Eric sat down on an old wooden chair, exhaling. “Man… this is real, isn’t it?”

Leon didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he walked to the window, staring at the dark treeline.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “It’s real.”

And soon, the world would burn.

But this time, he was ready.

***

Leon didn’t waste time. Every second counted.

The world outside was still normal, for now. But in six days, chaos would consume everything.

If he wanted to survive, if he wanted to build a future, this hunting lodge had to become a fortress.

He glanced at Eric, who was stretching his sore arms near the fireplace. The kid had potential, but he wasn’t ready to fight a war yet.

That was fine. Leon could handle the hard work.

He set his backpack on the table and emptied its contents:

A combat knife

A pistol with two spare magazines

A military-grade flashlight

Several MREs (Meals Ready-to-Eat)

Two bottles of purified water

A folded tactical map

A small roll of duct tape

Not much. But enough to start.

Eric raised an eyebrow. “What’s the plan?”

Leon didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stood up, walked to the door, and pushed it open. The cool air carried the scent of damp earth and pine.

The lodge was secluded, surrounded by thick forest, but that wouldn’t stop the infected, or worse, other survivors, from finding it eventually.

He needed to prepare.

Leon took Eric outside and pointed at the surroundings.

“This clearing is too open,” he said. “If anything or anyone approaches, we need to know first.”

“How?” Eric asked.

Leon smirked. “Traps.”

He grabbed an old axe leaning against the cabin wall and gestured to the trees. “Start cutting branches. Thick ones.”

Eric groaned but got to work.

Meanwhile, Leon moved to the treeline, where he found vines and thin branches, perfect for tripwires.

Perimeter Traps:

Using vines and empty cans, Leon rigged a simple noise trap around the lodge. If something tripped the wire, the cans would rattle, giving them an early warning.

He used a shovel from the shed to dig two small holes near the main entrance. Inside, he placed sharpened sticks and covered them with leaves. Not deep enough to kill, but enough to injure.

With Eric’s help, he stacked thick logs near weak spots around the lodge. Zombies wouldn’t think to go around them, and they’d slow down any incoming attackers.

Eric wiped sweat from his forehead. “Damn… this is harder than I thought.”

Leon chuckled. “Survival’s not easy, kid.”

Once the outer defenses were set, it was time to strengthen the cabin itself.

Lodge Defenses:

They nailed wooden planks over the windows, leaving only thin gaps to see through. Less exposure, more protection.

The front and back doors were weak points. Leon stacked furniture behind them for now, but he made a mental note to find metal bars or extra locks.

Leon found a cellar hatch beneath the floorboards. It led to an old underground storage space, a perfect emergency exit.

He looked at Eric. “This tunnel might save our lives.”

Eric shuddered. “Let’s hope we don’t have to use it.”

With the traps and reinforcements in place, Leon moved on to supplies.

Resource Priorities:

Water: The lodge had a well, but it needed a filtration system.

Food: The MREs wouldn’t last forever. Hunting and scavenging would be necessary.

Weapons: They needed more. A hunting rifle or a crossbow would be ideal, silent and deadly.

Medical Supplies: If either of them got injured, they were screwed. Finding a first aid kit was a priority.

Eric sat on the cabin steps, exhausted. “We’ve done a lot, but… is it enough?”

Leon stood beside him, staring into the darkening forest. The trees swayed gently in the wind. The world still looked peaceful.

But he knew better.

“No,” Leon murmured. “Not yet.”

Because no matter how much they prepared, nothing could stop what was coming.

And when it did, the only thing that mattered was who was strong enough to survive.