Story 273: The Last Outpost

Damien Rook’s boots crunched on gravel as he and Mira approached a walled encampment nestled at the edge of a foggy valley. Known simply as “The Last Outpost,” it was rumored to hold answers about the origins of the infection—and perhaps even a key to its end. Around them, the forest thickened, alive with unsettling sounds that made every step tense with the threat of ambush.

“Are you sure about this?” Mira whispered, her hand resting on her weapon. “This place doesn’t exactly scream ‘safe haven.’”

Damien glanced at her, his face a hard mask. “Nothing screams ‘safe’ anymore. But if the Outpost has intel, we can’t walk away.”

As they entered the camp, eyes from every corner sized them up. Hardened survivors, clad in mismatched armor, stood guard, their eyes reflecting the wary suspicion of people who had seen too much death. At the camp’s center, an elderly woman sat by a fire, her gaze distant but sharp, as though she saw beyond the world around her.