Closing the parted grass behind me, I crouched low, eyes fixed ahead.
The fence was right there — maybe a twenty-second sprint away — but charging in was suicide.
Why, you ask?
Because the "abandoned" bunker was currently being guarded by men with rifles.
"This isn't right… it's supposed to be deserted," I muttered under my breath.
I scanned the perimeter.
Four—no, five armed men. One just appeared from the far corner, his flashlight slicing through the rain-heavy air.
Which meant there could be more.
A distant rumble rolled overhead. I looked up.
Thick clouds were forming, the first drops of rain dotting my face.
"Shit," I hissed. "The storm's starting."
My jaw tightened.
I didn't know who they were or why they were here — but one thing was certain.
If I wanted to survive the night, I needed to get inside that bunker…
whether they liked it or not.
I crouched lower, inching forward through the wet brush.
The overgrown bushes and dark sky made perfect cover — the storm clouds swallowing what little light remained.
Voices drifted through the rain-damp air.
"¿Qué crees que está planeando el jefe?"
The voice came from one of the guards — Spanish, if I wasn't mistaken.
"No lo sé, hagamos esta mierda y cobremos."
Another replied, tone lazy and annoyed.
"Will you fools shut up and focus?" a gruff voice barked. "You're being too damn loud."
That one stood out — broad-shouldered, cigarette glowing faintly between his fingers. The way the others reacted, he was clearly the leader.
"Haha," one of the others — the only one not holding his gun properly — let out a dry laugh.
"I still wonder why the boss hired a bunch of noobs this time. And foreigners, too."
He adjusted the strap of his rifle, shooting a smug glare toward the two who'd spoken earlier.
"You shut up too, John," the leader snapped back, his voice sharp and cold.
For a moment, silence.
Then — bzzzzt.
The leader's phone buzzed. He answered it immediately, voice low.
After a few seconds, he hung up and turned to the group.
"Alright, move it. Payload's arriving in twenty."
He started moving toward the massive gate at the far end of the fence, the others following behind.
I stayed still, watching them disappear into the shadows.
"Payload…?" I whispered under my breath.
Whatever was going on here, it wasn't just a bunch of scavengers camping out.
I crept forward, careful to stay low behind the brush. The rain had started to come down harder, masking my footsteps but soaking through my clothes.
Crack!
My heart lurched. I froze — eyes darting toward the sound.
John, the smug one, turned sharply. His flashlight swept across the trees, the beam slicing through the darkness.
"What was that?" he barked.
I held my breath, every muscle in my body locking into place.
"Probably a snake," the leader called from the front without even turning around. "Ignore it."
John hesitated, scanning the treeline a moment longer before lowering his light with a grunt.
I didn't breathe until they were gone.
"Phew… lucky," I muttered under my breath, barely moving my lips.
The rain had turned into a steady downpour now, dripping from the branches and sliding down my face. I crouched lower in the bushes across from the dirt road that led to the massive, reinforced steel gate.
More armed men had gathered there — at least a dozen.
Some talked quietly among themselves; others scanned the treeline with practiced vigilance.
But all of them shared the same posture — waiting.
Their attention was locked on the road.
Whatever this "payload" was… it was coming soon.
Then — faintly — the sound reached me.
A low, distant rumble.
Not thunder this time.
Engines.
"Huh?"
I turned toward the sound just as multiple headlights cut through the rain. Three large military transport trucks rolled down the road, engines growling like beasts as they approached the gate.
The first truck came to a halt, the other two lining up behind it in perfect formation.
The smell of diesel filled the air.
"What the hell's going on here…" I muttered, shivering as the rain soaked through my clothes.
My gaze lingered on the trucks. Slowly, my lips curled into a grin.
"Seems like my ticket in," I whispered, as a plan began to form.
Staying low, I watched as several patrols circled around the vehicles, inspecting their contents and exchanging a few words.
The moment they started heading back toward the gate, I moved.
Crouching low, I crept through the bushes, the downpour masking my steps. The combination of heavy rain, low visibility, and engine noise worked in my favor.
When the nearest guard turned his back, I darted forward, using the rear of the third truck as cover.
Then, in one quick motion, I slipped across the muddy road and dove into the opposite brush, unseen.
From there, I sprinted along the fenceline, still keeping low.
What — you thought I was gonna pull some spy movie stunt and crawl under the undercarriage for a free ride?
"No… that'd be suicide," I muttered, still moving fast.
Those trucks had barely any clearance — I'd be crushed before we even made it past the gate.
And with the backpack? Forget it. I wouldn't be able to hold on for more than a minute — not to mention the heat from the exhaust would probably roast me alive.
Even if, by some miracle, I managed to hang on, I'd leave a trail in the mud clear enough for a blind man to follow.
So no — using the trucks as a direct way in wasn't smart.
But indirectly...
"Whoa—"
My foot slipped, nearly sending me face-first into the mud. I caught myself, breathing out through gritted teeth.
"Indirectly," I muttered, regaining my balance, "they make the perfect distraction."
Reaching the edge of the fence, I peeked around.
No one in sight.
My lips curled slightly. "Nice."
I glanced back — the taillights of the last truck painted the rain-soaked ground red before vanishing behind the closing gate. Then I slipped around the corner, out of sight — for now.
I moved a little farther before settling on a spot. Dropping my soaked bag, I pulled out a thick rope — one I'd bought earlier, just in case.
"This should do the trick," I muttered, breath fogging in the cold air as I tied a knot.
"Need to hurry," I whispered — some of those guys would be back soon.
Once done, I threw the rope over the fence, aiming for one of the uneven extensions near the top.
It hooked.
I tugged once to make sure it was sturdy, then slung my bag over my shoulder.
With one last look around, I grabbed the rope and started climbing — boots scraping against the wet steel as the rain came down harder.
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With a low thud, I dropped down, wincing a little.
Returning the rope to my bag, I looked around.
Couldn't see much, but I could still faintly hear the engines of those trucks.
I needed to find a way in.
Can't go through the main door — it's likely guarded.
But maybe an emergency hatch… or the ventilation system. That might work.
Just need to find one.
'Seems like I'm behind a building and not in the open. That's good,' I thought as I started moving around in the dark, keeping my eyes and ears peeled for any sound or light.
Although the place is occupied now, the power hasn't been restored yet, making everywhere really dark.
I'd noticed it earlier when I was watching from outside.
Normally, perimeter lights use a dusk-to-dawn setup — photocell sensors that detect low light and automatically turn them on.
The lights on the fence never came on, even when the sky went pitch black.
That means whoever took over this place did it recently… and probably hasn't gotten the power running yet.
At least, that's what I hope.
Keeping close to the wall, I noticed the trucks heading into some sort of warehouse. More men — this time not armed — followed behind them, probably to offload the cargo.
'Seems like they aren't much,' I thought, peeking around the corner toward what looked like the main stronghold.
Yup. Guarded.
Can't use a torch — I'll get spotted instantly.
I peeked again, my brows furrowing.
"Just how on earth do I get into this facility…?"
Rumble— thunder rolled again.
The downpour, which had eased for a moment, suddenly came back with vengeance — sheets of rain hammering the ground with surprising force.
"I'm definitely catching a cold after this," I muttered, glancing down at my soaked clothes and squelching shoes.
Then I noticed it.
The water.
Even with the low visibility , I could make out the faint flow cutting across the muddy ground. My eyes had adjusted just enough to trace its direction — the rainwater was being funneled somewhere.
"The drainage system…" I whispered in realization.