The encroaching darkness deepened the sense of vulnerability as Ethan and Marcus scanned the open farmland. The distant, pervasive hum in Ethan's **AnomalySense** suggested a scattered group of infected, not a concentrated horde, but their location offered no natural cover.
"The barn," Marcus said, pointing to a large, dilapidated structure a few hundred yards away. "It's our best bet. Solid walls, defensible positions."
The barn was a gamble. It could be a haven, or a death trap. But they had no other choice. They moved cautiously, keeping low, using the skeletal remains of the corn stalks for what little concealment they offered.
As they drew closer, Ethan's **AnomalySense** intensified. The infected were closer than he initially thought. He could now make out their forms in the fading light: a mix of shamblers and a few faster-moving figures, perhaps Runners, spread out across the fields, drawn by their scent and the faint sounds of their movement.
**\[Threat Detected: Low-level zombies (8) and Runner (2) present. Threat Level: Moderate.]**
"Ten, spread out," Ethan whispered, his hand on his hatchet. "Two Runners. We go in fast and quiet."
The barn's large, wooden doors hung open, revealing a shadowed interior. They moved with practiced efficiency, Marcus taking the left side, Ethan the right. The shamblers inside were slow and disoriented, easily dispatched with swift, silent strikes. The Runners, however, were a different story.
One, a gaunt, emaciated figure, charged from the darkness, its movements disturbingly fast. Ethan, despite his injured arm, reacted quickly. He sidestepped the lunge, bringing his hatchet down in a brutal arc, cleaving through its skull. His **Melee Proficiency** (Tier 1) and raw **Strength** (10) made short work of it.
**\[Low-level zombie eliminated! Experience Gained: 10 EXP.]**
**\[Low-level zombie eliminated! Experience Gained: 10 EXP.]**
**\[Low-level zombie eliminated! Experience Gained: 10 EXP.]**
**\[Low-level zombie eliminated! Experience Gained: 10 EXP.]**
**\[Runner eliminated! Experience Gained: 30 EXP.]**
**\[Current Experience: 485/600.]**
The second Runner, hearing the commotion, turned, its milky eyes fixing on them. Marcus, meanwhile, was engaged with the remaining shamblers, his hunting knife a blur of lethal efficiency.
Ethan, his arm throbbing, drew his pistol. The Runner was fast, but predictable. He aimed carefully, compensating for his shaky grip, and fired. The bullet found its mark, dropping the Runner in its tracks.
**\[Runner eliminated! Experience Gained: 30 EXP.]**
**\[Low-level zombie eliminated! Experience Gained: 10 EXP.]**
**\[Low-level zombie eliminated! Experience Gained: 10 EXP.]**
**\[Current Experience: 535/600.]**
The barn was theirs. It was a decrepit, dusty space, filled with the smell of decay and old hay, but it offered solid walls, a relatively defensible position, and a temporary respite from the open fields.
"We barricade the doors," Marcus said, surveying the interior. "And set a watch. They'll be drawn to the noise."
They found fallen planks of wood and used them to reinforce the barn doors, creating a makeshift barricade. They stacked hay bales against the walls, creating makeshift cover points. The setting sun cast long, eerie shadows across the interior, turning the familiar farm tools and discarded equipment into grotesque shapes.
As darkness fell, Ethan took the first watch, his **Anomaly Sense** on high alert. The sounds of the night were amplified in the silence, the rustling of leaves, the distant moans of the infected, the creaking of the old barn itself. He knew they were surrounded, but for now, they were safe, huddled within the fragile sanctuary of the farmhouse. They had survived another day, but the long journey west was far from over.