The mutants arrived a few hours after dark. We heard them skulking around the compound, clawing at the makeshift barricades we'd erected. They could likely smell the dried blood that stained the floors and walls. Fortunately, the barricades held, and before long, the foul creatures moved on to seek fresher meat elsewhere. They probably headed for the burial pit we had dug earlier, which would keep them occupied until dawn. We had buried them deep. Safely ensconced in the basement section of the main building, a solitary gas lantern cast us in its warm, flickering glow. I had retrieved my camping stove from my pack, which, fortunately, had not been discovered—or if it had, the Dominion hadn't seen any value in its contents—and cooked one of the packs of noodles I had scavenged from the superstore. We shared a bottle of water between us.

"Supplies," I said, breaking the sound of slurping noodles.

"What about them?" Ethan asked, his mouth full. I smirked. He looked like a starving baby bird with worms in its beak.

"We don't have any," I replied. "Aside from two bottles of water and some tins of beans and peaches."

"They stole the rest," Trevor growled.

"Maybe the Dominion haven't gone too far," Ethan said optimistically. I shook my head.

"No, that's not how they operate. They don’t raid close to their camps. I reckon they'll be at least sixty miles from here. And last I checked, that Marauder truck was already running on fumes when we took it."

"We hid a supply cache a few miles west. It was one of Jake’s strategies for surviving out here, just in case we had to make a return journey," Beth said. "It’ll have some food, fuel, and ammunition. What we were able to spare, at any rate."

"Then that’s where we need to go. We can pick up their tracks again once we’ve resupplied. I don’t know about you guys, but I am knackered. I'm gonna hit the hay."

As we settled down for the night, each of us was lost in thought. Trevor worried sick about his little girl, Ethan wishing his girlfriend was safe. And Beth, well I had an inkling at what turmoil she must be going through. The idea of reaching the supply cache offered a glimmer of hope, but the journey there wouldn’t be without its risks. The mutants weren’t the only threats lurking in the open wastes.

“I’ll take first watch,” Trevor said, pulling his rifle closer. He positioned himself by the room’s door. The rest of us found corners in the dimly lit basement to try and get some rest. Despite the exhaustion pulling at my eyelids, sleep seemed a distant dream. My mind raced with plans and contingencies, and then there was the trauma of the day we’d just experienced. In the day when the shit hits the fan you don’t have time to take it all in. At night, however, the horrors and close calls hit with a vengeance. Getting a good night’s sleep that wasn’t filled with nightmares was rare. And then there were the memories, often of things you wished you could forget. Eventually the exhaustion overwhelmed me and my eyes closed and I began to dream.

*

Bullets whizzed by my head, striking the wall next to me and showering me with brick dust. I crouched behind a collapsed stone column that served as my only cover, clutching my M-16 tightly. The gunfire was deafening in the confines of the assembly house. A sharp scream echoed as one of my shots found its mark, followed by a cheer from the men behind me. My heart pounded in my chest, and I breathed hard, each breath laced with the acrid smell of gunpowder and fear.

A hand clapped me on the shoulder, making me flinch in the heat of the moment. “Nice work, kid,” a familiar, gravelly voice praised. It belonged to a man I’d not seen in over a decade. Mack. His shaved face was smeared with dirt and blood, eyes gleaming with a wild light. He was a tall, burly man with broad shoulders that hinted at imposing physical strength. His face, weathered by years of living rough and fighting, was offset by a set of piercing blue eyes that seem to miss nothing—they were eyes that would quickly shift from cold calculation to a sudden, ruthless gleam.

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Taking a deep breath to compose myself, I rose from my hiding spot, the rifle still ready in my hands. The assembly hall around me was a scene of utter devastation—a massacre. The bodies of dozens of men and women lay scattered around like lifeless dolls, their expressions frozen in the horror of their final moments. More gunshots came from outside, but with lessening frequency, it was clear that resistance was faltering.

I moved forward, stepping over the bodies, each a reminder of the ruthlessness this life demanded. Mack led the way, his silhouette stark against the flickering light from a fire that had begun in one corner of the hall. As we reached the entrance, looking out at the smoking remnants of what had been a fierce battle, Mack turned to me, his expression sombre yet oddly satisfied.

"This is our life kid," he said, almost philosophically, as if trying to justify the carnage. "Survival at any cost."

*

I woke up with a start, the dream fading but the emotions it stirred—guilt and fear—lingering. I looked around the room. Ethan was awake, sitting on a chair close to the window, his rifle in his lap. Noticing I was awake, he stood up and handed me the bottle of water.

"Looks like you were having one hell of a nightmare," he said, passing me the bottle. I took it gratefully, quenching my parched throat; the cool water slightly refreshing me. I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth.

"It was worse than a nightmare. It was a memory I’d rather forget."

Ethan raised an eyebrow but wisely didn’t press further. I was in no mood to relive my past. I stood, yawning as I stretched my back and legs. Despite being used to sleeping on cold, hard floors, my body always protested. I poured some of the water into my hands and splashed it on my face, the coolness driving away any lingering drowsiness. Glancing around the room, I noticed that Beth had already risen and left the basement.

"Always been an early riser, that one," Ethan remarked, noticing my gaze at the empty space where she had slept the night before.

"Come on, we’ve got a long day ahead of us," I replied, pulling on my jacket and shouldering my pack. I holstered my Glock and hefted my rifle over my shoulder. Ethan nodded, gathering his own gear.

The light from the rising sun began to seep into the dim basement, casting long shadows that played on the walls. We moved silently, our minds occupied with the tasks ahead. We exited the basement, stepping over the debris and remnants of our temporary barricade. The air outside was crisp, carrying the faint scent of morning dew mixed with the lingering odours of smoke and stench of the mutants that had skulked around the compound. Thankfully there was no sign of them, just a mass of prints in the dust and puddles of dried drool and other foul secretions. Trevor and Beth were already standing near the truck and studying a map of the area. I tossed my pack into the back and joined them.

"So, where are we heading?"

"There's an abandoned homestead just off this road," Beth said, tracing the route with her finger. "The highway should take us most of the way, but it’s here that I’m concerned about." She pointed to a section of the highway. "When we came out this way, the road had collapsed, forcing us to double back and find an off-ramp that took us through the town of Automaton Springs."

"If we’re quick and quiet, it shouldn’t be a problem, right?" I said, studying the map.

"That would be true, except for the fact that when we passed through, we stirred up a proverbial hornet’s nest of robots. We lost some good people trying to escape that place."

"Robots? Why so many there?" I wondered.

"Back before the fall, Automaton Springs was one of those showcase towns that corporations liked to use to show off how great their products were. This one specialised in Optimus models, so every household and shop would’ve been equipped with one," Beth explained. I winced at the thought of so many machines going berserk. The residents wouldn’t have stood a chance.

“That’s just great,” I sighed.

“How’s your arm?” Beth asked, ignoring my frustration.

I rotated my shoulder and grunted as it clicked audibly.

“Almost as good as new, thanks to the wonder of modern medicine,” I replied sarcastically. It still bloody hurt. “Thanks for asking.”

We finished loading the truck, which didn’t take long given our very sparse supplies. I gave the vehicle a quick once-over; aside from the bullet holes in the frame, it was in surprisingly good condition for something used by marauders. Beth climbed into the passenger seat and I took the wheel. Trevor manned the machine gun as before, with Ethan settling in beside him. I turned the key and the truck sputtered to life. Beth placed the map on the dashboard, and I mentally noted our direction—west. I pressed the gas pedal and we were off, heading into the unknown. I muttered a silent prayer, to whom I didn’t know nor care