The sun was beginning to dip low, casting long shadows across the cracked asphalt as the truck trundled towards their destination. The landscape had changed over the last few miles, the once dense woods now thinning out to reveal an old military compound, its rusted fences barely standing against the erosion of time and neglect. The outpost, which had once been a beacon of defense and order, now appeared as a hollow, decaying skeleton of its former self.
Curtis had been here before—on missions that had required the utmost secrecy, the most covert operations. But this wasn't one of those times. The compound now felt like a graveyard, haunted by the remnants of those who had been tasked to protect it, but who were long gone.
The truck's wheels crunched over the gravel as Curtis brought the vehicle to a slow stop, the sound of the engine dying down as it settled into an eerie silence. The others remained still, taking in the sight of the outpost with a mix of curiosity and caution. It was a relic of the old world, one that hadn't been touched by living hands in who knew how long.
"We're here," Curtis said, breaking the quiet. His voice was calm, even as his eyes scanned the compound. There was no sign of activity—no movement beyond the occasional rustle of wind through the dry grass. But that didn't mean they could let their guard down.
"Is it even worth stopping here?" Jack asked, his tone skeptical. He leaned forward in the seat, eyes narrowing as he took in the rundown state of the outpost. "Looks like it's been abandoned for a while."
Curtis considered the question for a moment. The compound had been one of the most secure places in the region before the outbreak. If it had been abandoned, there could still be valuable supplies. Medical kits, weapons, and anything that could give them an edge. But they had to be careful. There was no telling who—or what—might be lurking inside.
"We won't know until we check it out," Curtis replied, his voice firm. "We need all the supplies we can get."
Greg was the first to get out of the truck, slamming the door behind him with a heavy thud. "I'm with you," he said. "We can't be picky in this world."
Sarah, who had been quietly eyeing the compound, let out a long sigh before she, too, got out of the truck. "Yeah, well, I'm not thrilled about poking around a place that looks like it could collapse any second. But… we don't have much of a choice."
The group gathered around Curtis, who had already started to survey the area, his eyes sharp as he mentally mapped out their approach. The military outpost was surrounded by a series of high, chain-link fences, most of which were bent and torn in places. The main entrance had been sealed shut long ago, but there were gaps in the perimeter where they could slip through unnoticed.
"Stay close," Curtis instructed, his voice low but commanding. "We move quickly, check the buildings, and get out. We don't know if there are any walkers or other survivors here."
The group nodded in unison, the gravity of the situation settling in as they moved towards the breach in the fence. Curtis led the way, his training taking over as he moved with quiet precision, his every step calculated.
As they neared the entrance, they could see the skeletal remains of abandoned military vehicles scattered across the compound's yard. Their tires were deflated, and the once-pristine paint had long since peeled away, leaving only rust and decay behind. Curtis couldn't help but feel a pang of unease. These vehicles had once been symbols of power, of protection. Now, they were just more abandoned remnants, like everything else in this broken world.
"Let's check the barracks first," Curtis suggested, his voice barely above a whisper. He motioned for the others to follow him as he crouched low, moving towards the closest building, a concrete structure that had once served as living quarters for the soldiers stationed here.
The door was ajar, the hinges long since rusted beyond repair. Curtis gently nudged it open, his senses on high alert as he peered inside. The interior was dark and musty, the air thick with the smell of mildew. Empty bunks lined the walls, their sheets long since rotted away. The floor was littered with debris—papers, broken furniture, and discarded personal belongings that told the story of a place left in haste.
"Nothing," Curtis muttered under his breath, stepping further into the room. He turned to the others. "Let's keep moving."
They moved through the barracks, checking rooms and cupboards for anything useful. But there was little to be found. Most of the medical supplies had been looted long ago, and the small caches of food were either spoiled or too old to be of any use. Curtis's eyes scanned the space, his mind already racing with options. They needed to find something worthwhile soon or risk coming up empty-handed.
"Nothing in here," Sarah called from across the room. "We should head to the armory."
The armory was the next building in line, and Curtis felt a flicker of hope. If they were going to find anything valuable, it would be there. The armory had been the heart of the compound's defense—a place where weapons were stored, ready for any threat.
They made their way across the compound, moving swiftly between the crumbling structures. The air was thick with the scent of decay, the silence only broken by the occasional creak of the rusted fences as they swayed in the wind. Curtis kept a hand on his sidearm, his eyes scanning the surroundings with a practiced vigilance.
As they reached the armory building, Curtis paused, motioning for the others to hold back. He approached the door cautiously, testing the handle. It turned with a soft click, and he slowly pushed it open.
Inside, the room was dimly lit, the faint glow from the setting sun filtering through cracks in the walls. Shelves lined the walls, once stocked with ammunition, tools, and gear. But now, it was a different story. The shelves were bare, most of the weapons gone, their places only marked by the faint outlines left behind in the dust.
"Shit," Jack cursed softly, his shoulders sagging in disappointment. "It's all gone."
Curtis moved deeper into the room, his eyes scanning the shelves, the crates, and the lockers. There had to be something left—something they could use. He walked over to one of the lockers, his fingers brushing over the cold metal. When he yanked it open, he let out a low sigh of relief.
"Got something," he said, reaching inside to pull out a box of grenades. "We can use these."
"Better than nothing," Greg said, his voice still tinged with frustration.
Curtis set the box down on the ground, his mind already turning over the possibilities. The grenades would give them a bit of leverage, but they needed more than that to survive. The outpost had been a goldmine for resources once, but now, it felt like a dead end.
"We'll search the last building and then head out," Curtis said, his voice hardening. "We're not leaving empty-handed."
The last building was a small medical facility, tucked away in a corner of the compound. It had once been stocked with supplies, and Curtis held onto the hope that they might find something to take back with them.
When they entered, it was clear that someone had been there before. The shelves were stripped bare, and the cabinets had been ransacked. Still, Curtis couldn't shake the feeling that there might be something left behind.
"Check everything," he ordered, as they split up and began searching the rooms.
It didn't take long before Sarah let out a shout from across the room. "I found something!"
Curtis was at her side in an instant, his eyes flicking over the supplies she had uncovered—a small stash of antibiotics, some bandages, and a few bottles of antiseptic. It wasn't much, but it was enough to make a difference.
"This'll do," Curtis said, nodding in approval. He glanced back at the others. "Let's load up and head out."
As they gathered their meager haul, Curtis couldn't shake the feeling that the outpost held more secrets—secrets that he didn't want to know. It wasn't just the compound itself that was abandoned. The entire world felt like a ghost town, a place where people had once lived, loved, and fought for survival—but now, all of it had turned to dust.