The group finally reached a massive, once-bustling supermarket that occupied nearly an entire city block.
Its towering sign was cracked, flickering weakly, but the structure itself still stood firm like a stubborn monument refusing to fall to the apocalypse.
This place had become the base of Giana and the rest of her group—a decision made not out of luxury, but pure practicality.
Food was abundant, storage rooms were packed, and the building's thick concrete walls made it far safer than most shelters scattered around Parkland City.
As Ross and the others approached, they could see the subtle signs of human effort layered over the ruins.
Shopping carts were welded together into makeshift barricades.
Steel shelves had been dragged to block entrances. Wooden planks had been hammered across broken windows to prevent crawlers from slithering inside.
