Salvage Station 23

Chapter 2, Part 5

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The modified school bus rumbled through the reinforced gates of Salvage Station 23, its arrival sending a ripple of activity through the compound. As the vehicle came to a stop, Olivia stepped forward, her posture tense and alert.

"They're back," she called out to the others. "And it looks like they've brought company."

The bus doors hissed open, and David stepped out first, his weathered face etched with exhaustion and wariness. "Olivia," he nodded, "we've got a lot to report."

As the rest of the team filed out, Olivia's eyes narrowed at the sight of Rosie, her hand instinctively moving to the baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire at her side. "Who's this?"

Max, ever the mediator, stepped forward. "This is Rosie. We, uh, picked her up during the supply run."

Rosie stepped off the bus, her cyan eyes scanning the compound, taking in every detail. Her hand never strayed far from her double-ended katana.

"Picked her up?" Olivia's voice was sharp. "Care to elaborate?"

Aiden, his face grim, spoke up. "She was trying to loot our bus while we were in town. Nearly got the drop on us."

A tense silence fell over the group. Zoe and Mia exchanged worried glances, while Liam looked on with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

Eli, sensing the growing tension, quickly added, "But she's agreed to a truce. We thought... well, we thought maybe we could help each other out."

Olivia's gaze never left Rosie. "Is that so? And what exactly do you bring to the table, Rosie?"

Rosie met Olivia's stare unflinchingly. "I've survived on my own for months. I know how to fight, how to scavenge, and how to stay alive in this world. I'm not looking for handouts, just a fair chance."

The two women sized each other up, the air thick with unspoken challenges and possibilities.

Finally, Olivia spoke, her voice measured. "We'll talk more inside. David, get that supplies unloaded. Zoe, Mia, give him a hand. The rest of you, let's move this discussion somewhere more private."

As the group began to disperse, Rosie cast one last glance over her shoulder, a flicker of something - recognition? concern? - crossing her face before she schooled her features back into a careful mask of neutrality.

Meanwhile, several miles away from Salvage Station 23, in an abandoned house on the outskirts of the ruined town, Cyan lowered his sniper rifle. Through the scope, he had watched the bus enter the compound, confirming Rosie's safe arrival. His silver eye gleamed in the dim light of the setting sun as he processed this new development.

Cyan moved silently through the decrepit house, his movements precise and controlled. He made his way to a room where his motorcycle stood ready, a sleek, dark machine built for both speed and stealth. Running a hand along its frame, he considered his next move.

Rosie was safe for now, but in the company of strangers. Cyan knew he needed to stay close, to watch and wait. He would protect her, as he always had, but from a distance. At least for now.

Back at Salvage Station 23, the doors of the main building closed behind Olivia, Rosie, and the others, leaving the compound in an uneasy quiet. The sun had fully set now, and in the growing darkness, the real challenges were just beginning. Unknown to the inhabitants of the station, they were being watched not just by the ever-present threat of the Jacks, but by a silent guardian, ready to intervene at a moment's notice.

As Olivia led the group into the main building of Salvage Station 23, Rosie's eyes darted around, taking in every detail. The interior was a maze of repurposed train cars and salvaged materials, a testament to the ingenuity and desperation of its inhabitants.

They passed by a room with charred walls and a lingering smell of smoke. Rosie's gaze lingered on it, her brow furrowing slightly.

Noticing her interest, Max leaned in. "Jack attack," he whispered. "Two of them. We had to burn the whole room to take them out."

Rosie nodded, her face unreadable. She'd seen similar tactics before, in her old camp. The memory brought a bitter taste to her mouth.

Olivia led them to what appeared to be a makeshift meeting room. "Alright," she said, turning to face Rosie. "Let's hear your story."

Rosie took a deep breath, her cyan eyes scanning the faces around her. "I was raised in a survivor's camp, much like this one. My... guardian was the leader. He trained me to take over one day."

"And did you?" Aiden asked, his voice skeptical.

"For a time," Rosie replied, her voice steady. "Three years. We were doing well, expanding, even."

"So what happened?" Olivia pressed.

Rosie's hand unconsciously went to her neck, where her necklace hung. "There was an outbreak. A new kind of infection. People started showing symptoms we'd never seen before."

The room grew tense. Everyone knew the implications of new infections in this world.

"They accused me of being the source," Rosie continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "Said I was 'one of them'. They drove me out."

"And were you?" David asked, his voice gentle but firm. "Infected?"

Rosie's eyes flashed. "No. I was immune. But they wouldn't listen. Didn't want to take the risk."

Silence fell over the room as they processed this information.

Eli was the first to speak up. "So you've been on your own since then?"

Rosie nodded. "Months. Moving from place to place. Scavenging. Surviving."

"And what brought you to our bus?" Olivia asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Desperation," Rosie admitted. "I... I saw two of your people on a supply run a while back." Her eyes flicked to Aiden and Liam. "I followed the tire tracks. When I found your bus, I thought... well, I thought I could get some supplies and be gone before anyone noticed."

Aiden's eyes widened in recognition. "That day at the pharmacy... I thought I saw something."

Olivia held up a hand, silencing him. "So, Rosie. You're a trained leader. You claim to be immune to at least one strain of infection. You're clearly a skilled survivor. Why should we trust you?"

Rosie met Olivia's gaze unflinchingly. "Because I have nothing left to lose. And because I'm tired of being alone. I'm offering you my skills, my knowledge. In return, I'm asking for a chance. That's all."

The room fell silent again, the tension palpable.

Max cleared his throat. "For what it's worth, she had the drop on us in the bus. Could have taken us out if she wanted to."

Olivia considered this, her eyes never leaving Rosie. "We'll need to verify your immunity claim. Zoe can run some tests. Until then, you'll be under constant supervision. One wrong move, and you're out. Understood?"

Rosie nodded, a flicker of relief crossing her face. "Understood."

"Alright," Olivia said, addressing the group. "Max, you found her, you're responsible for her. Show her where she can bunk down for the night. We'll continue this discussion in the morning."

As the group began to disperse, Rosie caught sight of the burned room again. The charred walls seemed to whisper of hard decisions and desperate measures. She understood those all too well.

Outside, in the abandoned house miles away, Cyan settled in for a long night of vigilance. His silver eye gleamed in the moonlight as he kept watch, ready to protect Rosie at a moment's notice.

The night stretched on, full of uneasy truces and unspoken tensions. At Salvage Station 23, a new chapter was beginning, one that would test the limits of trust, survival, and humanity in a world gone mad.

~~~