Winter adjusted the strap of his rifle as he trudged through the snow-covered streets of the inner district. The cold gnawed at his exposed skin, but he barely noticed. His breath puffed in visible clouds as he moved, his eyes constantly scanning the eerily quiet surroundings.
He thought of his squad. By now, they should have reached City H, if everything had gone according to plan. If. The word weighed heavily on his mind. Plans rarely went as intended in this new world. Still, he held onto a sliver of hope that they were safe. Felix would keep them in line, and Ima—his lips twitched involuntarily—Ima would be fine. She always found a way to adapt.
Winter adjusted his grip on his rifle, his gloved fingers flexing against the metal as he glanced up at the heavy grey clouds. Snowflakes drifted lazily down, their serene descent at odds with the tension knotting his shoulders. He wasn't used to this quiet; it set his teeth on edge.
