Celebration and Unease

The morning after the successful resource raid felt oddly bright. A few new survivors milled around the courtyard, whispering admiration for Leila's bravery in securing vital supplies—medicine, ammunition, and MREs. Mark and Darren were still unloading leftover boxes, storing them carefully in the storeroom. Everyone seemed eager to savor a moment of triumph.

Yet Leila couldn't relax. As she moved through the shelter, her mind replayed the sabotage from earlier that week—the carefully sliced fence wires—and the footprints that disappeared into the night. She glanced at Kai, who met her gaze from across the yard. His nod signaled he felt the same disquiet: their invisible foe hadn't vanished.

Later that morning, while doing a final tally of the newly acquired supplies, Fiona frowned at a stack of ammo boxes. "We're missing a box of rifle rounds," she muttered under her breath. "I could have sworn we brought three crates back. Now there's only two."

Leila's stomach twisted. "Could someone have moved it?"

Fiona shook her head. "I've asked around. No one claims to have touched them."

Suspicion crackled through the air. They'd barely unpacked from the raid, and already some of the supplies were unaccounted for. Mark inspected the storeroom door for tampering but found no obvious signs of forced entry. It felt all too similar to the earlier vanishings—food packs, medicine, small bits gone missing.

Despite these troubling signs, a handful of new arrivals insisted on holding a small "celebration" in the common area to honor the successful raid. Tables were pushed together, and a modest feast of leftover stew, MRE sides, and wild greens was laid out. The mood was festive on the surface—relieved chatter, jokes about the chaos on the road—but tension simmered underneath.

Kai stuck close to Leila, scanning the crowd. He caught sight of Martin (the boastful newcomer from the raid), who seemed jumpy, glancing frequently at the storeroom hallway. Another suspicious face, that tall, wiry man from previous episodes, hovered near the door, arms folded. Leila noted the way he exchanged curt nods with an older newcomer, as if sharing some secret.

At the edge of the communal table, Fiona quietly voiced concern to Darren. "We can't ignore these vanishings any longer. Someone's either stockpiling for themselves or planning something bigger. If the saboteur strikes again, we might lose our chance to stop them."

Darren nodded grimly. "Or they may be funneling goods outside. We can't keep plugging leaks if we don't catch who's drilling holes in the boat."

Even in the midst of an attempted celebration, the seeds of fear took root. Leila forced a polite smile as she spoke with well-meaning newcomers, but her mind reeled with the unsolved puzzle: Who among us is playing both sides?

Night fell, and watchers resumed their rotations. Leila joined Kai on an interior patrol, weaving through corridors to ensure no one tampered with newly stowed supplies. Around midnight, a strangled shout came from the storeroom area. They rushed in to find Mark kneeling by an open crate, wide-eyed.

"What happened?" Leila demanded, heart pounding.

"More ammo's gone," Mark said, voice shaky with anger. "I only left for five minutes to refill my canteen, and—"

They exchanged dark looks. This wasn't mere coincidence or sloppy accounting. Someone was systematically removing critical resources.

As they combed the scene, Darren arrived, pointing to a side door in the storeroom that had been cracked open. "Footprints," he muttered, shining his flashlight on muddy impressions heading out into the yard. "Whoever it is, they're bold."

The watchers split up to track the footprints in the moonlight. Kai motioned for Leila to circle around the building while he and Fiona followed the trail across the courtyard. Within minutes, a frantic yell from Fiona signaled they'd cornered someone near the back fence.

Leila sprinted that way, adrenaline surging. Could this be it—finally revealing the saboteur?

In the yard's dim glow, they found Kai pinning a tall figure against the fence. At first, Leila expected the wiry man; instead, she recognized Martin, the boisterous newcomer from the raid. He clutched a small crate, half-filled with ammo boxes, face twisted in anger as he struggled against Kai's hold.

He spat on the ground. "You have no right—"

Leila's eyes burned with fury. "So it was you."

Martin's gaze flicked, desperate, looking for an escape route. "You don't understand. I was doing what needed to be done."

Kai tightened his grip. "Cutting our fence, stealing supplies…? Why?"

At first, Martin tried to deny cutting the fence, but confronted with the crate of stolen ammo, he stammered an admission: he'd been in contact with a rival group—one that promised him a better deal if he undermined Leila's shelter from within. They'd planned to weaken the shelter, sabotage defenses, then swoop in for the kill.

Horror rippled through Leila. She recalled Jace and Ellie's betrayal with a nauseating jolt. Had Martin orchestrated the entire infiltration?

"Not just me," Martin sneered. "There are others in your little group feeding them info. You're blind, all of you."

Before they could extract more details, distant gunshots exploded across the dark yard. A second infiltrator, presumably an ally of Martin, had signaled a waiting raider party or lured a zombie horde to strike at this exact moment. As if on cue, silhouettes emerged at the fence line—armed rivals aiming to storm the compound.

"Get down!" Darren roared, raising his rifle. Bullets whizzed overhead, and the floodlights around the perimeter shorted out in a shower of sparks, plunging half the courtyard into darkness.

Amid the chaos, Martin broke free from Kai's grip, elbowing him in the ribs. Gunfire and the moans of incoming undead or raiders blended into a cacophony. Leila barked orders: "Defensive positions! Stop them at the fence!"

The next few minutes blurred in frantic combat. Fiona and Darren took cover behind a row of crates, exchanging fire with raiders who sought to push through a compromised section of fence. Mark rushed to help re-activate a backup generator, cursing under his breath as wires sparked.

Kai sprinted after Martin, determined not to let the traitor vanish in the confusion. Leila grabbed her rifle, ducking behind an overturned table. She squeezed off careful shots at silhouettes climbing over twisted wire. One raider went down, howling. Another retreated, but the rest surged on.