The midday sun was merciless, beating down on the cracked earth and sending shimmering waves of heat through the air. Caleb adjusted his hat, a ragged thing that barely kept the sun off his face, and squinted at the horizon. Nothing but wasteland as far as the eye could see—just barren plains dotted with skeletal remains of old buildings, their concrete walls eroded by time and the apocalypse.
“We’ve been walking for hours,” Sari said from behind him, her voice strained. She clutched her notebook tightly to her chest, as if it were the most precious thing she owned.
“It’s been closer to three,” Reyna muttered, wiping sweat from her brow. She carried her rifle slung across her back, though its chamber had been empty for weeks. “Not that it matters. There’s still nothing out here.”
Jonah brought up the rear, his broad shoulders slumped under the weight of their dwindling supplies. His heavy boots dragged through the dirt, leaving shallow grooves behind. “Nothing except vultures,” he said, pointing upward. Sure enough, a trio of black shapes circled lazily above them, their shadows casting faint spots on the ground.
“Optimistic as ever,” Caleb said, though his tone lacked its usual humor.
Reyna glanced at him. “You’re the one who wanted to head this way. Said there might be a settlement.”
Caleb stopped walking and turned to face her, his expression tight. “And there might be. Or would you rather stay back there, with the raiders breathing down our necks?”
Reyna held his gaze for a moment before looking away. “Just saying. This ‘might’ better pay off soon.”
The group pushed on in silence, the tension thick but unspoken. Hours passed, the heat taking its toll on all of them. By the time they spotted the faint outline of a structure on the horizon, the sun was already beginning to dip, painting the sky in shades of orange and red.
“There,” Caleb said, pointing. “Looks like some kind of outpost.”
“Or a trap,” Reyna muttered.
Jonah shifted his pack and sighed. “Everything’s a trap these days. Doesn’t mean we can keep walking forever.”
Sari perked up, squinting at the structure. “Maybe they have water. We’re almost out.”
Caleb nodded. “We’ll approach slowly. See what we’re dealing with.”
Reyna gave him a skeptical look. “And if it’s raiders?”
“Then we deal with it,” Caleb said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
As they got closer, the structure became clearer. It was a small, fortified shack surrounded by rusted metal fencing. A tattered flag fluttered weakly from a pole, though the design was too faded to make out. The place looked abandoned, but appearances meant nothing in the wasteland.
“Looks quiet,” Jonah said, his voice low.
“Too quiet,” Reyna replied, unslinging her rifle.
Caleb motioned for them to stop. “Stay here. I’ll check it out.”
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“Like hell you will,” Reyna said, stepping forward. “You’re not playing hero again.”
Caleb gave her a tired smile. “Relax. I’ll be careful. Just watch my back.”
Before she could argue further, Caleb slipped through the fence, his movements slow and deliberate. The others stayed behind, their eyes scanning the area for any sign of danger.
The inside of the shack was as grim as Caleb expected. The air was stale, and the floor was littered with debris—scraps of cloth, broken tools, and the occasional dried stain that Caleb didn’t want to think too hard about.
But there was something else: supplies. A few crates were stacked in one corner, their contents spilling out. Cans of food, bottles of water, even a small box of ammunition. Caleb’s stomach twisted. This was too good to be true.
He crouched, inspecting the crates carefully. The labels were faded, but the seals were intact. He reached for one of the bottles of water, his hand hovering for a moment before he grabbed it.
A sharp sound behind him made him freeze.
“Drop it,” a voice said, low and rough.
Caleb turned slowly, his hands raised. A man stood in the doorway, his face partially obscured by a makeshift scarf. He held a shotgun loosely in his hands, though the way he carried it suggested he knew how to use it.
“Didn’t mean to intrude,” Caleb said, keeping his tone calm. “We’re just passing through. Thought this place was empty.”
The man snorted. “Does it look empty?”
Caleb glanced around. “Honestly? Yeah.”
The man didn’t laugh. “You alone?”
“No,” Caleb admitted. “But we’re not looking for trouble.”
“Funny thing about trouble,” the man said, stepping closer. “It has a way of finding people.”
Outside, Reyna shifted uneasily. “He’s been in there too long.”
Jonah tightened his grip on his knife. “You think something happened?”
“Only one way to find out,” Reyna said, starting toward the shack.
Sari grabbed her arm. “Wait! What if—”
A loud thud from inside the shack cut her off.
Reyna swore under her breath and broke into a run, Jonah and Sari close behind.
Inside, Caleb ducked as the butt of the man’s shotgun came swinging toward his head. He stumbled, crashing into one of the crates, but managed to stay on his feet.
“Should’ve just left,” the man growled, raising the shotgun again.
Before he could swing, Reyna burst through the door, her rifle raised. “Drop it!” she barked.
The man froze, his eyes narrowing. “She your muscle”
“Last warning,” Reyna said, her finger hovering over the trigger.
Jonah appeared behind her, his knife drawn, and Sari peeked in cautiously from the doorway. The man glanced at them, then back at Caleb, who had managed to grab a crowbar from the debris.
“You’ve got me outnumbered,” the man said, his tone grudging. “What do you want?”
“Supplies,” Caleb said, straightening. “Enough to get us through the next few days. Then we’re gone.”
The man hesitated, his grip tightening on the shotgun. For a moment, Caleb thought he might fight back. But then the man sighed, lowering the weapon.
“Take what you need,” he muttered. “Just leave me enough to get by.”
Caleb nodded. “Deal.”
As the group loaded up their packs with supplies, the man watched them silently from the corner. Reyna kept her rifle trained on him the entire time, her expression unreadable.
When they were finished, Caleb approached the man. “Why’d you let us go?” he asked.
The man shrugged. “You didn’t kill me when you had the chance. Figured I’d return the favor.”
Caleb studied him for a moment, then offered a small nod. “Good luck out here.”
The man didn’t reply.
They left the shack as the sun dipped below the horizon, their packs heavier but their nerves frayed. The silence between them felt tense, fragile, as they walked away from the outpost.
Reyna was the first to break it. “You realize he’s probably going to come after us, right?”
Caleb shook his head. “He won’t.”
“And you know that how?”
“Because he’s just like us,” Caleb said, his tone weary. “Trying to make it another day without losing what little he has left.”
Reyna didn’t respond, but the look on her face said she wasn’t convinced.
Sari clutched her notebook tightly, her gaze flicking between Caleb and the horizon. “Do you think we’ll ever stop running?” she asked softly.
Caleb didn’t answer right away. He glanced back at the faint outline of the shack, now just a shadow in the distance, and then forward into the unknown.
“Maybe,” he said quietly. “But not today.”
And with that, the group pressed on, their footsteps fading into the night.