I moved through the silent industrial district with the steady pace of a man knowing that rushing would only result in failure.
The city around me was dead silent, but I know that silent places are the most dangerous.
Dust coated everything.
Wind pushed old wrappers across cracked asphalt.
Somewhere in the distance, metal groaned as an abandoned sign swayed on rusted bolts.
Atlanta had become a graveyard built from concrete and steel.
It seemed like it deteriorates everytime I return here.
I passed old landmarks from previous runs—warehouses and stores that we'd stripped a month ago.
I ignored them all.
I wasn't here to reminisce.
I had a different mission, a different objective.
After a few blocks, I stopped beside an abandoned sedan.
The windshield was shattered; leaves had accumulated beneath the wipers.
I lifted my hand slightly.
A moment later, a folded street map and permanent marker appeared in my hand—one of the many things tucked away inside my Inventory.
I spread the map across the hood.
Dust puffed in the air.
My eyes immediately found the district I was standing in: Atlanta's industrial sector.
A gold mine of heavy equipment if you knew where to look.
My finger traced several locations in my direction.
The first circle went around Yancey Bros. Co.
I heard of this establishment before.
It dealt with excavators, bulldozers, earthmovers—the kind of machinery that could reshape terrain—as well as heavy duty trucks.
This should have everything we need, if we're lucky enough to find it untouched.
The second mark went around United Rentals in 6075 Riverside Pkwy Austell.
That's five to six miles away from Yancey Bros. Co.
The third circle hit Vanguard Truck Center.
That's on Ruskin Drive from the looks of it.
The last circle went around International Used Truck Center.
I took a closer look at the closest location near me—it was the Yancey Bros. Co.
Then, I folded the map and stored it away.
Mission plan established.
Time to move.
The trek to Yancey Bros. took almost forty minutes—not because of the distance, mind you, because of caution.
The industrial district was quiet, too quiet.
Quiet enough that every mistake mattered.
I moved through alleys, loading lots, and warehouse corridors with deliberate care, clearing the occasional lone or two walkers that I would encounter.
Former workers, judging by their uniforms.
Some never saw me until they went down; some I had to take care of close and personal.
I refrained from using firearms because no matter how silenced the muzzles are, in a quiet area like this, even a loud step sounded like gunfire.
I mostly made use of my bow and knife.
By the time I reached Yancey Bros., the morning sun was beginning to climb higher.
The dealership sat behind chain-link fencing, large, industrial, exactly where it should be.
Unfortunately, it wasn't empty.
Several infected walkers still wandered the yard.
A pair of security guards shuffled near the main office entrance, and a dozen worker-garbed walkers shambled about the perimeter.
I crouched behind an overturned forklift and observed for several minutes out of old habits.
Patience saves lives, after all.
Five minutes later, the yard was quiet again.
One by one, I removed them.
I felled the farther ones using my bow and arrows, and the closer ones with my knife.
Silent.
Efficient.
Then I stepped through the gate and stopped.
"Well, damn."
Rows of equipment stretched across the property.
Yellow steel everywhere: bulldozers, excavators, track loaders, backhoes, compact loaders.
Enough machinery to build a small town.
Most importantly, they appeared intact, which was good news to me.
No signs of scavengers, no signs of looting, no signs of damage. Perfect.
I walked between the massive machines, running a hand along weathered paint.
This was exactly what we needed.
The trench plan was officially possible.
Unfortunately, the truck selection left much to be desired.
There were trucks, mind you, but the states of them left me frowning a bit.
I pulled the map out again and spread it across the hood of a service truck.
My eyes immediately landed on the circle I'd drawn earlier: United Rentals.
'I'll have Jim look at the trucks here.' I thought to myself 'If it's just the visuals that are bad, then so be it, we'll take a couple of them. But if the trucks are on their last legs, United Rentals could be our second choice.'
Nodding, I folded the map.
I didn't return it inside my inventory this time, but stashed it in my pocket.
Half an hour later, I was standing inside another massive yard, and this time I found what I was looking for.
Rows of heavy duty trucks: Kenworth, Peterbilt, Mack, International, Volvo. Class 6, Class 7, Class 8 fleet vehicles.
Construction haulers, dump trucks, chassis commercial workhorses built to survive abuse.
I let out a smile.
Jackpot.
These machines represented capability.
The ability to build, to expand, to fortify, to survive.
Satisfied, I began the walk back.
The rendezvous point came into view nearly forty minutes later.
The six armored trucks and the box truck were still parked exactly where we'd left them.
Jim sat inside one of the armored trucks drinking coffee.
Daryl occupied a rooftop overlooking the intersection.
Merle lounged against a truck, pretending he wasn't actually watching every approach.
The moment they spotted me, they straightened.
"Find anything?" Merle called.
I smiled. "Couple of things."
Jim immediately perked up.
Half an hour later, Rick's team appeared from the northwest.
Morgan looked tired.
Morales looked dusty.
Rick looked thoughtful.
The scouting teams gathered around the hood of one of the armored trucks.
I spread the map out again.
Everyone leaned closer.
Rick pointed toward several locations. "We found equipment lots here and here."
Morgan tapped another mark. "Couple construction yards too."
I nodded, then tapped the circles I'd drawn. "Yancey Bros. It has bulldozers, excavators, loaders, as well as some selection of trucks." I tapped on the second location. "Rental United. This place had rows of heavy duty trucks from Class 6 through Class 8."
I tapped a couple more locations, "Vanguard Truck Center is located here and lastly International Used Truck Center, But we probably won't need to go there."
Jim's eyes lit up. "Then we're set."
"Yeah, we are." I folded the map and stored it back inside my pocket, then looked around at the group.
"Alright."
Everyone's eyes focused around me.
"We know where the vehicles are." I pointed toward the direction of Yancey Bros. "We secure the earthmovers first." Then I pointed toward United Rentals. "After that, we grab the haulers. If the trucks at Yancey Bros are no good."
Nobody argued with that.
The plan was simple; the objective was clear.
Now, with the equipment about to be secured, I could already see the future taking shape: container walls, defensive trenches, a way to turn the farm into a fortress.
And we finally have the tools to build it.
(To be continued...)