Salvage Station 23

Chapter 4, Part 1

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The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the cracked asphalt road. The combined group walked cautiously, their weapons ready and their eyes scanning every corner. Olivia and Rosie led the way alongside Brandon, while Max stayed close behind with Cassidy and Levi. Sam walked with Mia and Eli, keeping the younger members of the group within sight. Aiden, Liam, and David covered the rear, their flashlights occasionally flicking on to check darkened corners and shadowed vehicles.

The atmosphere was heavy with exhaustion, but the uneasy alliance pushed forward. The sound of boots crunching gravel and the distant cawing of crows filled the silence.

"So," Max said, breaking the quiet as he glanced at Cassidy, "you three were heading somewhere specific before we ran into you?"

Cassidy smirked slightly, though her eyes stayed sharp. "Not really. We were moving aimlessly after our last shelter fell. Got surrounded by Jacks and had to bail. Then Brandon's group found us and pulled us out."

Levi chimed in, his voice steady but low. "We've been with them for a couple of weeks now. They've been keeping us alive."

Max nodded, processing the information. "Lucky you found them, then."

"Luck's not something I rely on," Cassidy replied, her smirk fading.

Ahead, Olivia and Rosie were deep in conversation with Brandon.

"How far are we from your shelter?" Olivia asked, her tone steady but firm.

"Not far," Brandon replied. "We've got a fortified warehouse a couple of miles from here. It's strong, defensible, and well-supplied. It's been our permanent base for a while now."

Rosie raised an eyebrow. "Why didn't you just mention it earlier?"

"We weren't sure about your group yet," Brandon admitted. "Didn't want to bring strangers straight to our home until we got a better sense of you."

Olivia exchanged a glance with Rosie, who nodded slightly. "Fair enough. Let's pick up the pace, then. The sooner we're off this road, the better."

As the group trudged onward, the weight of their exhaustion became more apparent. Mia stumbled slightly, but Sam was quick to steady her.

"You okay?" Sam asked softly.

Mia gave a tired nod, her limp more noticeable now. "Yeah. Just... tired."

Sam offered a faint smile. "We'll rest soon. Just hang on a little longer."

Behind them, David walked beside Aiden and Liam, his Glock in hand and his gaze sharp.

"You boys holding up back there?" David asked quietly.

Aiden gave a curt nod. "We're good, David. Just keeping our eyes open."

Liam, gripping his spear tightly, added, "Feels too quiet, though. Like something's watching us."

David didn't respond but shared a glance with Aiden, both silently acknowledging the same gut feeling.

After another mile, the warehouse came into view. Its sturdy metal walls stood against the fading light, surrounded by a reinforced perimeter of scrap metal, barbed wire, and stacked debris. Two guards stood atop a makeshift watchtower, their weapons trained on the approaching group.

Brandon raised a hand, signaling the group to stop. "Wait here." He stepped forward and called out to the guards.

"It's Brandon. Open up!"

The guards hesitated for a moment before lowering their weapons. A loud creak echoed as the heavy gate was pulled open, revealing the fortified interior.

Inside, the warehouse was a hive of activity. Survivors moved between supply stations, weapon racks, and makeshift sleeping areas. Despite the utilitarian setup, it was clear this place was more than just a temporary refuge-it was a home.

"This is it," Brandon said as he turned to Olivia and Rosie. "It's not much, but it's kept us alive."

Olivia scanned the area, her critical eye taking in the defensive setups and the busy workers. "Looks solid. It'll do for the night."

"Rules are simple," Brandon continued. "Don't take what's not yours, stay out of restricted areas, and pull your weight if you're staying longer than a day."

Rosie smirked. "Understood. But we're just here to rest and move on."

"Fair enough," Brandon replied.

As the survivors dispersed to find spots to rest, Rosie leaned against a stack of crates, letting out a slow breath.

"This place feels... stable," she murmured.

Max sat down nearby, his spear resting against his knee. "Better than most we've seen."

Cassidy approached the trio, her arms crossed. "This is how it starts, huh? Two groups meeting, testing each other's trust."

Olivia gave her a pointed look. "Trust is earned, not given freely. But for tonight, we're all on the same side."

From above, a faint silhouette shifted across the warehouse roof, cloaked in the dim light of dusk. Jet-black hair tousled in the breeze, partially covering a bandaged eye, while a sharp silver gaze observed the group below with unwavering focus. His gloved hand rested near the sleek barrel of an AWM sniper rifle, ready but steady. His attention lingered on Rosie as she moved among the others, his silent vigil unbroken. Ever watchful, ever ready-he remained her unseen guardian in the fading light.

The sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. The tension of the day hadn't fully dissipated, but for now, the group had shelter, food, and a moment to catch their breath.

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