The decision to investigate Sierra One wasn't made lightly. The risks were immense. Fifty miles through unknown territory, facing "anomalies" that had overrun a military outpost. But the potential rewards – a cure, a safer world, understanding the source of the plague – were too great to ignore.
Anya, as the former military, took command of the expedition. Jax, with his tracking and ranged skills, was the logical choice for her second. And then there was Ethan. His unique abilities, his rapid leveling, and his increasingly lethal efficiency made him indispensable.
"Ethan, you're coming with us," Anya stated, her gaze firm. "Your… effectiveness in close quarters is crucial."
Ethan nodded, a grim sense of purpose settling in his chest. He was ready.
Marcus, despite his desire to go, was assigned to stay and protect the fortress with Mr. Henderson and the others. "You're the rock here, Marcus," Anya told him. "Keep this place secure. We'll be back."
The supply list for the trip was extensive: MREs, water purification tablets, extra fuel for the armored truck, medical supplies, and, most importantly, ammunition. Anya ensured they had enough for a sustained engagement. Ethan packed his hatchet, crowbar, and the pistol Anya had given him, along with a few spare magazines. His new *Ranged Accuracy* skill felt like a solid foundation.
The morning they departed was overcast, the sky a dull gray, matching the mood. The massive steel doors of the surplus store ground open, revealing the desolate suburban street outside. The armored truck, fueled and ready, stood waiting.
Anya took the driver's seat, Jax the passenger. Ethan climbed into the back, the cargo bay now mostly empty save for their expedition gear. He looked out at the familiar, abandoned neighborhood, a wave of melancholy washing over him. This was the longest they'd been away from the relative safety of the fortress.
The heavy truck rumbled to life, its powerful engine a stark contrast to the silence of the apocalyptic world. It slowly rolled out, its tires crunching on broken glass and discarded debris. The journey began.
The first few hours were uneventful but tense. They stuck to secondary roads, avoiding major highways that were likely choked with abandoned vehicles and hordes of infected. The landscape slowly shifted from suburban sprawl to rolling hills and then, eventually, dense forest. The road became narrower, winding, occasionally blocked by fallen trees or abandoned cars, forcing Anya to drive painstakingly slow or Jax to clear a path with a chainsaw from their supplies.
They encountered various shamblers. Small groups emerged from the treeline, drawn by the sound of the truck, their moans echoing eerily through the woods. The truck's armored exterior offered protection, but also limited their visibility.
Jax, with his rifle, took out many from the passenger window, his shots precise. Ethan, from a makeshift firing port in the back, practiced his *Ranged Accuracy*, taking down targets with increasing confidence. Each kill was noted by the System, slowly filling his experience bar.
*\[Low-level zombie eliminated! Experience Gained: 10 EXP.]**
**\[Low-level zombie eliminated! Experience Gained: 10 EXP.]**
**\[Current Experience: 50/400.]**
As the day wore on, the terrain grew more rugged, the trees denser. The air grew colder, thinner, hinting at the mountain range ahead. The radio remained silent, no further distress calls from Sierra One. That either meant they were truly gone, or their communication was utterly destroyed.
Just as the sun began to dip below the mountain peaks, casting long, purple shadows, Anya brought the truck to a halt.
"Look," she said, her voice grim. "Up ahead."
Ethan and Jax peered through the dusty windshield. Looming in the distance, nestled deep within a heavily wooded valley, was a large, imposing complex. Barbed wire fences topped with watchtowers surrounded a series of dark, windowless buildings. It was Sierra One.
But something was wrong. The fences were breached in multiple places. One of the watchtowers leaned precariously, its light extinguished. A massive, gaping hole had been torn through the main gate, as if something incredibly powerful had simply ripped it open. And then, Ethan saw them. Figures, larger than normal zombies, moving with an unnatural, predatory grace, darting between the buildings. Not shamblers. Not Brutes. These were something else.
[Warning! Multiple High-Threat Mutations detected within Sierra One Outpost. Threat Level: Extreme.]
The System's warning confirmed his worst fears. This wasn't just an overrun outpost. It was a hive of new, terrifying "anomalies." Their journey had ended at the gates of a true nightmare, and the real fight was about to begin.