City B, September 24th? Year 0 of the Great Collapse
The ruins of the city stretched endlessly, broken buildings casting long, jagged shadows in the fading daylight. Winter moved quickly but cautiously, his boots crunching against shattered glass and debris.
As always, the air smelled of rust, ash, and decay, a mixture that had become too familiar.
He kept his hand close to his blade, every muscle coiled like a spring. Time was precious, and the cache wasn't far now.
He could tell from the reduced amount of zombies in the area. More powerful people had cleared out most of them, so he was likelier to run into people here than actual zombies.
But then, a sound stopped him dead in his tracks.
A faint, muffled cry.
