Survival in the last days of America

"Head southwest—take Highway 74!"

After leaving the quarantine zone, Brian slowly rolled down the passenger-side window and gave Norman the exact route. Then he turned his gaze outward.

Unlike the icy, snow-covered Atlanta he remembered from five years ago, the abandoned city was now bursting with greenery. Weeds and wild grass sprouted through cracks in the broken pavement. Once-majestic skyscrapers were now wrapped in thick vines. In the distance, between the crumbling buildings, Brian could even make out the silhouettes of animals—returning to the territories once ruled by humans, freely roaming the ruins of the city.

Since entering the military training base, Brian had learned that all animals were immune to the cordyceps fungus virus—not just one or two species, but every single animal.

The fungus seemed to have a special predilection for humans, as if it were a curse from nature, punishing humanity for its endless greed.

Ironically, while immune animals could still be attacked by infected humans, they appeared to be thriving far better than humans ever had in this new world.

The sound of the three vehicles naturally drew the attention of infected creatures wandering the city streets and buildings.

However, after five years of relentless supply runs by the quarantine zone forces—eliminating countless infected—and occasional culling by the Resistance Army—the number of infected on the streets, while still significant, was no longer as overwhelming as in the early days.

Brian barely glanced at the infected horde in the rearview mirror, their futile pursuit already fading behind the convoy.

The convoy continued along the paths carved out by previous teams, gradually leaving Atlanta behind.

Peachtree City , located about 29 miles southwest of Atlanta, had once been a moderately famous town, even earning several titles as one of the "Most Livable Cities in America."

But after the cordyceps outbreak, all traces of its former prosperity and peace had vanished. It had become just one of countless abandoned towns across the world.

"Stop!"

As the convoy reached the outskirts of Peachtree City, Brian, sitting in the passenger seat, gave the order. The three vehicles slowed to a halt. He opened the door and jumped out.

With the convoy stopped, the rest of the team descended from the military truck and lined up in an orderly fashion, their expressions serious, awaiting further instructions.

Brian stepped forward, rifle in hand, and glanced at the quarantine zone civilians peeking nervously from the cargo trucks. He turned to his team and said:

"You know the drill. Our mission is supply retrieval. No specific items. Anything useful—load it onto the trucks."

As soon as he finished, he noticed the team exchanging knowing looks, as if they'd expected this all along. Brian's lip twitched, but he continued:

"Norman, find a high vantage point. Report any abnormalities immediately."

"Elton, you're with me. We'll scout ahead. Stay in constant contact with Norman to ensure the route is secure."

"Kim, Mike, Wade—you'll escort the convoy. Once Elton reports a location with supplies, move fast to load them. And remember: keep it quiet. No unnecessary noise."

Then, turning toward the cargo trucks carrying the civilians, he raised his voice:

"I know you can hear me! I'm warning you—if you want to live, don't pull any stunts. If you cause trouble, I'll break your legs and leave you here."

"Move out!"

"Yes, sir!"

At Brian's command, Norman scanned the skyline and immediately spotted a tall signal tower. Without hesitation, he sprinted toward it.

Wade and Mike were helping the civilians down from the trucks, while Kim approached the two soldiers driving the cargo vehicles, likely giving them instructions.

Seeing his team move with discipline and efficiency, Brian nodded in satisfaction. He gave Elton a light pat on the shoulder.

"Let's go. We're moving out too."

"Got it!"

The two left the convoy and continued down Highway 74 into Peachtree City. They walked for an unknown amount of time, mentally marking areas with potential supplies.

Brian noticed there were almost no cars in this town, but nearly every house had a golf cart. He also spotted a massive estate along the way. After a closer look, he realized it was a winery. He made a mental note of the location—since they'd be here for several days, he'd definitely check it out on the way back.

"Sergeant, look! There's a department store!"

After dealing with a few stray infected on the streets and walking a bit farther, Elton, who had been scanning ahead, suddenly called out in excitement, pointing forward.

Brian, still alert to his surroundings, followed the direction of his finger. Sure enough, not far ahead, stood a large shopping mall.

"Let's check it out."

His face showed no emotion. After five years, even a department store likely held little of real value.

Still, both men heightened their vigilance. Places like this were often hotspots for infected.

They entered the mall's parking lot. The ground was covered in layers of rotting leaves, swirling in the breeze. Even after years, faint bloodstains were still visible on the pavement.

Staring at the mall's main entrance, Brian paused and said to his teammate:

"Elton, circle the entire building. Make sure no infected are nearby. I'll go in first and scout."

Elton hesitated, frowning slightly. He knew Brian was trying to protect him, but he didn't argue. He gave a nearly imperceptible nod and ran off toward the side of the building.

Once Elton was gone, Brian slung his assault rifle across his back, lowered his stance, and gently pushed the door open, slipping inside with practiced silence.

The mall had four floors. Elevators on either side connected the levels, and in the center was a curved atrium. Looking up, two large banners hung from the ceiling—likely advertisements for stores.

The atrium was a mess. Items were scattered everywhere. Several skeletons lay on the floor. One car had even crashed into a shop, its front half embedded in the wall.

The silence was absolute. Brian moved even more cautiously, afraid of making the slightest sound.

He had noticed something: in the thick layer of dust on the floor, there were clear footprints. Though scattered, they followed a pattern. He didn't need to guess—this mall definitely had infected inside.

—Grr… grr…

He had only taken a few steps when a familiar sound reached his ears, instantly capturing his attention.

From a corner at the far end of the hall, a limping infected shuffled into view. Its blood-red eyes darted left and right, as if searching for something. It followed one of the footprints on the floor.

Brian stared at the creature, his brow furrowing. Something felt off.

The infected's clothes were unusually clean. The blood on its face and body was fresh, not dried or decayed. This wasn't a five-year-old infected. It looked like it had turned only days ago.

—There are other survivors in this city!

A sudden thought flashed through Brian's mind. An internal alarm blared. His instincts screamed.

But as he scanned the area, he saw no signs of recent human habitation—no camps, no fires, no food stores. No trace of life.

He exhaled slightly, though still on edge.

Brian slowly drew his knife from his belt, studying the infected's movements. When it turned its back, he stepped from the shadows, determined to eliminate it first.

His steps were light. There might be noise, but with the infected's limited hearing, it wouldn't hear him from this distance.

With less than five steps between them, Brian lunged. In one fluid motion, his left hand clamped over the infected's throat, and his right hand drove the knife through its skull. In seconds, it was dead.

The move was flawless—smooth, precise, no hesitation. Clearly, he'd done it many times before.

—Pshhh.

Brian gently laid the body on the floor, wiped the knife clean on the infected's clothes, then slowly stood, ready to continue his search.

—Click… click… click…

But at that moment, a metallic sound came from behind him. A footstep. Then another. Slow. Jerky.

Brian's pupils contracted. His face paled. That sound… so familiar… so terrifying…

Memories buried deep in his mind surged forward, uncontrollable.