Resource Raid

Silence stretched painfully long. Wind rattled the chain-link fence. The moon peeked through ragged clouds, illuminating the sabotage site in stark clarity. Then a distant moan of an undead sent shivers down their spines, a reminder that external dangers were also lurking.

No one spoke as Leila knelt to examine the cut wires. The slice was precise—someone with skill, maybe. She stood, heart pounding, scanning the dark yard and the ring of dim floodlights around the perimeter.

"Could be they're planning a bigger move," Kai muttered, stepping to her side.

"We need to fix this fence now—and figure out who the hell is behind it," she replied, voice trembling with suppressed anger. She cast one more glance around. "If we don't stop them soon, everything we've built here is going to fall apart."

Night pressed in on all sides, and the group was left with a single, inescapable question: who among them was working to tear down the walls they'd so desperately rebuilt?

Dawn found the community in an uneasy state of repair. Mark and Darren stayed up half the night patching the fence damage, while Fiona tried to calm those who'd awakened to the commotion. Despite their exhaustion, Leila assembled her trusted circle—Kai, Fiona, Mark, Darren, and a few newer members she tentatively trusted—for a morning meeting in the shelter's makeshift lounge. The mood was subdued, the memory of the sabotage still fresh.

Fiona opened a battered notebook, scanning her notes. "We're almost out of broad-spectrum antibiotics, and the ammo supply's dangerously low. If an attack comes, or more people get sick, we're in trouble."

A hush settled. Leila leaned forward, elbows on her knees. "How bad?"

Darren scratched the stubble along his jaw. "Maybe two dozen rifle rounds left total, plus a handful of shotgun shells. Not enough if we face a major raid or a zombie horde. We can't rely on the fence alone."

A cold pit formed in Leila's stomach. The infiltration threat hovered in her mind, but these shortages presented an immediate crisis. Even if they sealed every hole in the fence, they couldn't hold out long without restocking vital resources.

As the group moved to the storeroom to confirm Fiona's tally, the sense of urgency deepened. Shelves that once held a modest cushion of supplies were nearly stripped bare—a few sad cans of vegetables, a couple of half-empty boxes of cereal, and precious little in the way of medicine. The missing rations and sabotage combined to paint a grim picture.

"This is worse than I thought," Mark said under his breath, running a hand through his hair. "Even if we ration carefully, we can't last more than a week."

A newcomer named Janelle, who had proven skilled at field-dressing small wounds, hovered nearby. "I can stretch what's left of the bandages," she offered, voice trembling, "but if we get a bad injury or infection…"

Her unfinished sentence hung in the stale air. Leila let out a slow sigh. They were pinned between invisible enemies inside the shelter and the threats beyond. Action was their only option.

Mid-morning found them gathered again in the lounge, charting a map of nearby terrain on a battered wooden table. The stronghold they had in mind lay two towns south—a crumbling military outpost rumored to have stashes of ammo and medical supplies. Mark tapped a finger on the approximate location, frowning.

"Word is it used to be manned by National Guard survivors in the early days, but they got overwhelmed. Could be leftover crates if we're lucky," he said. "But it's a good thirty miles out."

Darren grunted. "That's a full day's trek if we're dodging zombies or raiders."

Leila traced the route with one finger, lips pressed tight. She'd scouted part of that area once, months ago. "We'll need a vehicle," she muttered. "Something reliable enough to get there and back with supplies. Kai, did you say there was a working pickup out back?"

Kai nodded. "Sort of. We need to siphon enough fuel, but it should run."

"Then we do it," Leila decided. "It's risky, but so is sitting here waiting for the sabotage to escalate."

By midday, word spread through the shelter that Leila was assembling a resource raid. Responses were mixed:

A few new arrivals eagerly volunteered, viewing it as a chance to prove their loyalty.

Others balked, either fearing the journey or suspecting it was a suicide mission.

Some longtime allies were ready to follow Leila anywhere, but she didn't want to leave the shelter entirely defenseless.

Standing near the compound's front gate, Leila and Kai fielded requests. A tall man named Santiago, an experienced hunter who arrived last week, insisted on joining. Janelle volunteered to provide medical support if they encountered injuries. Two more newcomers—one quiet but seemingly trustworthy, another more boisterous—stepped up.

Leila studied each volunteer, recalling the infiltration threat. For all she knew, the saboteur might leap at the chance to sabotage the raid from inside. She quietly asked Kai for his read on them.

"Most of them seem genuine," he whispered. "But keep an eye on that boisterous one, Martin. Can't tell if he's just overcompensating."

Leila nodded, deciding to pick a balanced team: Mark for his reliability, Fiona for emergency medical backup, Kai for his tactical sense, plus Santiago, Janelle, and Martin. She hoped none were in league with the saboteur.

The rest of the afternoon was a blur of rushed preparations:

Vehicle Check: Kai and Mark tinkered with the pickup's engine, siphoning enough fuel from other abandoned cars in the yard. The engine sputtered, then roared to life, albeit shakily.

Gear & Weapons: They gathered the few remaining rifle rounds and shotgun shells. Each volunteer carried at least a sidearm or melee weapon, but it felt woefully inadequate.

Ration Packs: Fiona doled out a small supply of jerky, dried fruit, and water. Enough for a day or two. "We travel light," Leila ordered, "so we can bring back as much as we can carry."

Darren approached Leila as dusk approached. "You sure about taking Martin?" he asked quietly. "He's pushy, seems too eager."

She pursed her lips. "We watch him. But if we exclude everyone who's enthusiastic, we'll never expand trust."

With that, they settled on a dawn departure time, planning to sneak out before the sun fully rose, hopefully avoiding major undead clusters or prying eyes.

True to plan, the raid party set out at first light, the pickup rattling along cracked asphalt roads. The open fields stretched around them, dew glistening under a pale sunrise. They managed a few miles before encountering their first challenge: a small knot of shambling zombies blocking the highway. Janelle's grip on her shotgun tightened.

Leila eased the pickup to a halt. "We can plow through, but it might damage the engine. Let's see if we can clear them quickly."

They hopped out, forming a loose firing line. Santiago picked off the lead zombie with a single bullet, Mark felled another with a well-placed shotgun blast. The rest closed in, forcing them to rely on close-quarters combat. Kai swung his crowbar, dispatching two swiftly, while Martin hollered in a mix of fear and excitement, hacking at a zombie with a machete.

Moments later, the undead lay lifeless on the road, the group left panting. No one was bitten, though Fiona quickly scanned for scrapes. Relief washed over them, albeit short-lived.

"Coordination's decent," Kai noted, "but we used precious ammo."