The following morning, Haven was a hive of activity. The new survivors had settled in well enough, but the need for supplies was growing urgent. The initial relief of safety was giving way to the realities of surviving long-term—food, medical supplies, and fuel were running low, and while Haven’s defences were strong, the people inside it would only last if they could replenish their dwindling resources.
Corey, D’Souza, and Palesa stood in the common room, preparing the final plans for their supply run. A small team would go out to the nearby towns, searching for whatever they could scavenge while the rest of Haven remained vigilant in case of a potential attack.
“We’ve mapped out three main locations,” D’Souza explained, pointing to the map laid out on the table. “A small convenience store about two miles west, an old hardware shop, and a medical clinic. We’ll hit them in that order and get out fast.”
Corey studied the map, his mind already calculating the risks. “We’ll need to split the team between these spots. Smaller groups move faster.”
Palesa nodded. “We’ll keep it light. Just what we can carry. If we’re lucky, we’ll find some working vehicles to bring back larger supplies.”
D’Souza checked his rifle, then looked around the room. “Who’s going?”
“We need a balance of speed and firepower,” Corey said, thinking it over. “You, me, Ornelas, Chantell, and Ricardo. We’ll leave the rest here to maintain Haven’s defences.”
Palesa glanced up, concerned. “Are we sure that five is enough?”
“We’ll be in and out,” Corey reassured her. “So five should be enough to grab supplies and have hands on deck if we run into trouble.”
Chantell and Ricardo, who had been quietly listening, stepped forward.
“We’re ready,” Chantell said firmly. “We’ve scouted for supplies before. I know how to move quietly, and Ricardo’s got good instincts for avoiding danger.”
Ricardo nodded in agreement, his expression serious. “I’ve got your back, Corey.”
Corey gave them both a nod. “Alright. We’ll move fast. Get in, get what we need, and get out. No unnecessary risks.”
D’Souza looked around the room, his face hard with resolve. “Let’s move.”
***
The air outside Haven was sharp and cold as the team set off into the forest. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting long shadows over the snow-covered landscape. The world outside Haven was eerily silent, the trees stretching high above them like skeletal sentinels watching their every move.
Corey led the group, his machete strapped to his back, while D’Souza kept pace beside him, his rifle slung over his shoulder. Ornelas, Chantell, and Ricardo moved quietly behind them, each one on high alert, their eyes scanning the treeline for any signs of movement.
The walk to the first location—a small convenience store tucked away in an old village—was tense but uneventful. The silence of the world around them only added to the pressure, but Corey kept his focus. They had a job to do, and they needed to do it fast.
When they reached the convenience store, Corey signalled for the group to spread out. D’Souza took point, scanning the building for any signs of movement before nodding to the others.
“Looks clear,” he said quietly. “Let’s go.”
They moved inside quickly, the musty air hitting them as they entered the abandoned store. Shelves were overturned, and most of the goods had been looted long ago, but there were still a few items scattered around. Canned goods, dried snacks, and bottled water—basic supplies, but enough to keep Haven going for a little longer.
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“Grab what you can,” Corey ordered, stuffing a few cans into his pack. “We don’t have time to be picky.”
Ricardo and Chantell moved through the aisles, collecting whatever was still usable, while Ornelas kept an eye on the door, his bow drawn and ready.
“I’ve got a couple of boxes of dried food,” Chantell said, her voice low as she handed Corey a few supplies.
“Good,” Corey replied, his mind already on the next location. “Let’s keep moving.”
They cleared out what they could and moved on, heading toward the hardware shop. The streets of the small village were deserted, the once-bustling roads now empty and lined with abandoned vehicles. The occasional sign of decay—broken windows, collapsed roofs—served as a reminder of how quickly everything had fallen apart.
“Stay sharp,” D’Souza warned as they approached the hardware store. “This area feels too quiet.”
They reached the store and entered cautiously. The interior was filled with old tools, nails, screws, and other construction supplies. Corey knew they wouldn’t find food here, but tools and hardware could be just as important for maintaining Haven.
“This stuff’s been here for years,” Ricardo muttered, sifting through a pile of rusted nails. “Might be more useful than I thought.”
Corey nodded, grabbing what he could—a few hammers, saws, and screws that were still in decent condition. It wasn’t much, but every bit helped.
As they packed up, Ornelas froze by the door, his hand gripping his bow. “I hear something,” he whispered, his voice tense.
Corey tensed, listening. At first, it was faint—just the distant rustle of leaves. But then it grew louder. The unmistakable sound of movement in the trees.
“Get ready,” D’Souza muttered, raising his rifle. “Could be just wildlife, but let’s not take any chances.”
The group moved into defensive positions, their eyes fixed on the entrance. The noise was getting closer now—heavy footsteps, the sound of something large moving through the brush.
Then, just as the tension reached its peak, the creatures appeared.
Three of them—twisted, skeletal forms with glowing eyes—emerged from the trees, their movements fast and unnatural. Corey’s heart raced as they locked onto the group, their predatory growls echoing through the empty village.
“Go!” Corey shouted, grabbing his machete as the creatures charged.
Ornelas fired an arrow, hitting one of the creatures square in the chest, but it barely slowed down. D’Souza opened fire, his rifle barking as he aimed for the head of the nearest creature. The bullet connected, and the creature dropped, its body twitching as it hit the ground.
“Move! Now!” Corey ordered, swinging his machete at one of the remaining creatures as it lunged at him.
Ricardo and Chantell grabbed their packs, moving quickly toward the exit. Ornelas fired another arrow, hitting the second creature in the leg, slowing it down just enough for D’Souza to finish it off with a shot to the head.
The third creature was still coming, its glowing eyes filled with hunger as it charged at Corey. He swung his machete, but the creature was fast—too fast. It dodged his attack, its claws raking across his arm.
Corey hissed in pain but didn’t back down. He swung again, this time hitting the creature in the side, driving the blade deep into its flesh. The creature howled in pain, staggering back before D’Souza fired the final shot, dropping it to the ground.
The air was filled with the sound of heavy breathing as the group stood over the fallen creatures, their weapons still raised, their hearts pounding.
“Is everyone okay?” Corey asked, wincing as he checked his bleeding arm.
“Yeah,” Ricardo panted, his eyes wide with adrenaline. “Barely.”
“We need to get to the clinic,” Chantell said, glancing at Corey’s arm. “That cut doesn’t look good.”
Corey nodded, grimacing. “Let’s move.”
The group left the hardware store behind, moving quickly through the streets toward the medical clinic. The creatures were gone, but the encounter had left them shaken. They needed to patch Corey up and get back to Haven before they ran into more trouble.
When they reached the clinic, it was just as abandoned as the other buildings, but the inside had been relatively untouched. Medical supplies lined the shelves—bandages, antibiotics, and painkillers. It was a goldmine.
“Grab everything,” D’Souza ordered, already moving toward the shelves. “We’ll need it all.”
Chantell quickly got to work on Corey’s arm, cleaning the wound and wrapping it tightly in bandages. “You’ll be okay,” she said, her hands steady despite the tension. “But we need to get you back to Haven to rest.”
Corey nodded, relieved to feel the pain ebbing slightly as the bandage took hold. “Thanks.”
As they packed up the last of the medical supplies, Corey felt a sense of urgency. They had what they came for, but the clock was ticking. The longer they stayed out here, the more danger they were in.
“We need to go,” Corey said, his voice low but firm. “Let’s get back to Haven.”
With their packs full and their mission complete, the group made their way back through the forest, their steps quick and silent. The weight of the supplies on their backs was a welcome burden—they had what they needed to keep Haven going, at least for a little while longer.
When they finally reached the gates of Haven, the cold air hit them like a wall, but this time it felt like a shield, protecting them from the horrors outside.