First encounter 1

The metallic clang of fists pounding against the armored cars sent a jolt through the students inside. The vehicles trembled under the force, rattling as though they might tip over. Screams erupted from some, while others clung to their seats in silent terror. Among them, Ella merely jolted awake, blinking groggily. She had dozed off while rereading her mother's letter, and now, reality came crashing down with the brutal awakening.

"Alright, new fish, out, out, out and stand in formation right now!"

The command came from outside, barked by an unseen figure. The urgency in his voice left no room for argument.

"What's going on?"

"Are we there already?"

"Didn't they say it would take at least six hours? Why are we stopping now?"

Questions filled the air, but there were no answers. Only the directive remained. One by one, the students climbed out of the vehicles.

Ella grunted as she jumped down from the back of the truck and landed on the dry, cracked earth with a soft grunt, rolling her stiff shoulders.

'That ride was more uncomfortable than I expected. My whole body aches,' she thought. Judging by the groans around her, she wasn't alone, but unlike the others, she was smart enough not to voice her complaints.

"Man, my body is stiff. Their cars are shit," one male student muttered under his breath.

"Dude, tell me about it. These are worse than my uncle's busted bakkie back home," another added, drawing laughter from their small group.

Ella rolled her eyes and distanced herself. "Dig your own graves," she thought, sensing what was coming.

Sure enough, the soldiers took immediate offense. One of them, a towering brute with a jagged scar down his cheek, strode toward them with slow, deliberate steps.

"State your name and rank!" he barked at the first student.

The student, oblivious, straightened his posture. "Oliver, sir. As for rank… hmm? I was number 18—no, number 17 now that Daniel is dead—on our school's top 200 list. What's your rank, sir?" He smirked slightly, glancing at his snickering friends.

"You think this is funny? You think this is your territory?"

Oliver shrugged, looking at his friends.

The soldier chuckled darkly, then—

SLAP.

The sound echoed in the wasteland. Oliver's head snapped to the side. Before he could react—

SLAP.

Another strike landed on his opposite cheek, sending him stumbling to the ground. He clutched his face, stunned.

"What the hell, dude?!" Oliver clutched his face, eyes wide with disbelief and pain.

The soldier crouched, his expression a mask of cold amusement. "Welcome to hell, you useless piece of shit. Out here, only three things matter—can you kill? Can you bring food? And above all, are you useful?" He stood, voice rising. "Listen up! You are no longer inside the protective walls of the city. We are in the wastelands now. And to us, you are all worthless. Until you prove otherwise, expect to be treated like the dirt beneath our boots. Understood?"

A wave of uneasy nods swept through the students. Those who had just arrived looked around in confusion, whispering amongst themselves.

"What happened?"

"No clue. Just got here."

"Did they bang on your car too?"

"Yeah. For a second, I thought we were under attack."

"Yeah! I thought they were shooting at us. It sounded like bullets raining down."

 a group of female students whispered in hushed tones.

Ella observed quietly, arms crossed. "It was that mouth of his that got him on the ground. Be careful, or you'll be next," she muttered.

"Tch. What's wrong with her?"

"She's changed. The more we go through, the more we see her true personality."

Ella ignored them.

The murmurs reached her, but she didn't care. She had warned them. Now, her next move was to get away from those with loose tongues.

She had learned three things about the soldiers: they were ruthless, they despised medical students for some unknown reason, and under martial law, they had absolute power. If they decided to bury a student in the wasteland, no one would question it.

More vehicles arrived, and with them, more students. The land stretched before them, barren and lifeless. The cracked ground seemed to pulsate under the relentless heat. The sky was an unyielding expanse of gray, choked with dust and ash. In the distance, skeletal remains of buildings jutted out like the ribcages of long-dead beasts, their hollow frames whispering of a civilization lost to time.

Then, the smell hit.

Heavy, pungent, suffocating.

Ella tensed. The stench clawed at her throat, thick and unnatural. Panic rippled through the crowd.

"What is that smell?"

"Rot... death..." someone murmured.

Her mind raced. 'Zombies? So soon?' Her eyes darted to the soldiers, seeking confirmation. They remained calm, not in formation, weapons still holstered. The realization chilled her. 'Did they bring us here as bait?'

Then, someone pointed. "Look! Humans."

Ella followed their gaze. Figures emerged from the haze, stumbling closer. They weren't zombies, but they weren't right either. They were gaunt, their skin stretched taut over brittle bones. Their clothes were rags, their bodies coated in grime. The smell intensified as they neared.

Their eyes... hollow. Starved. Desperate.

Ella's instincts screamed. Something was wrong. Were they…?

Then a tiny voice cut through the tension. "P-please help me."

A small child had slipped between the students, his skeletal fingers reaching out. "P-please... g-give me some food."

He was heartbreakingly small, barely more than skin and bones. One of the girls hesitated before pulling an oat bar from her pocket. Fear flickered in her eyes, but sympathy won. She handed it over.

"Wait!" Ella's warning came too late.

The boy snatched the bar and bolted. At first, it seemed harmless.

Then, the nightmare began.