Through The Ashes

41

Jorn decided to take point, her hand gripping her rifle, her eyes constantly scanning the muted facades of the city. Mara was close behind her, quiet but alert, her backpack snug on her back with their water and extra ammo.

Brady, walking alongside Becca, made a half-hearted attempt at breaking the silence. "So... what's the over-under on us finding a fully stocked grocery store just waiting for us?" he quipped, his voice low but casual, trying to inject some normalcy into the harrowing atmosphere.

Becca rolled her eyes, though her usual sharp retort lacked its usual bite. "If you're hoping for a five-star buffet, I think you're in the wrong place." She kicked a loose piece of rubble as they walked, her tone clipped, clearly on edge despite her attempt at playing it cool.

Mara, though focused, offered a light snort at Brady's comment. "I think we'd settle for a can of beans at this point." Her voice, soft and steady, was a small attempt to keep things light. But beneath her words, there was an undeniable tension.

Jorn's gaze remained fixed on the road ahead, but she could hear the conversation weaving through the group. It was a thin thread, the kind that kept the fear at bay just long enough to keep moving. Her shoulders were tight, the ever-present feeling of being watched poking at the back of her mind.

Brady smirked, clearly trying to keep the mood lifted. "Hey, worst-case scenario, we find one of those vending machines and take our chances with year-old snacks. Can't be worse than the slop we've been eating."

Jorn couldn't help but let a small grin tug at the corner of her mouth.

Becca gave him a sideways glance. "You mean if the vending machines haven't been picked clean by now?"

"I'm an optimist," Brady shot back, his eyes scanning the dark alleyways they passed. "And if we don't find anything, maybe I'll start a gourmet Screecher recipe book. That'll sell, right?"

Mara chuckled softly. "You might have a hard time with marketing that."

Jorn finally chimed in, her voice low but amused. "You'd be your own taste tester, I assume?"

Brady laughed. "Someone's gotta do it."

They walked in relative silence for a few more minutes, the casual banter dying down as the reality of their surroundings crept back in. The buildings around them were a mix of collapsed ruins and structures that were heavily abused and trashed. Dark windows stared down at them like empty eyes, watching every step they took.

As they continued through the desolate city streets, the sky above them began to darken with heavy clouds, casting an even gloomier shadow over the already decayed landscape.

Jorn kept her senses sharp, her eyes darting from one broken window to the next, her ears straining to catch any sound that didn't belong. Each crunch of junk and gravel beneath their boots seemed louder, echoing off the crumbling walls of buildings.

A distant clattering noise made Jorn pause, holding up a hand to signal the others to stop. Everyone froze, listening, but the sound quickly faded, leaving only the unsettling quiet of the city.

Brady shifted his weight slightly, breaking the silence. "If this place wasn't a death trap, it could actually be kinda nice. Quiet, no neighbors... probably the best real estate in town."

Becca gave him a half-hearted glare, but Mara smirked. "Yeah, if you're into haunted house vibes."

Jorn's expression remained stoic as she scanned the rooftops, her voice low. "Haunted houses don't have Rot lurking in them."

"That's the spirit, Jorn. Always finding the silver lining," Brady said.

They resumed their pace. As they passed a crumbling storefront, Mara took a moment to glance at the faded sign above the door. "Can you imagine this place back when it was... normal?" she asked quietly, her voice tinged with nostalgia. "Cause I can't."