Story 146: The Overgrown Streets

Twenty years had passed since the outbreak. The bustling city of New Cordis, once the center of civilization, had decayed into an overgrown wasteland. Nature had reclaimed the streets, vines winding through broken windows, and the skyscrapers that once touched the sky were crumbling relics of a forgotten time. Cars were abandoned, covered in rust, their owners long dead or turned.

Jackson moved cautiously, his boots crunching on the cracked asphalt as he stepped over debris. His rifle was slung over his shoulder, and his eyes scanned the desolate surroundings, alert to any movement. The city was deceptively quiet, but he knew better. The dead never stayed hidden for long.

His goal was simple: reach the old hospital at the center of the city. Rumors of a cure had circulated through the few remaining survivor camps, and Jackson had promised his group he'd find it. If there was even a sliver of hope left in this world, it was worth the risk.