The journey into the mountains was grueling. The remaining survivors, only a handful now, trekked through rough terrain, carrying what little supplies they had managed to salvage.
The road was long, winding through dense forests and jagged cliffs, and the deeper they went, the more the land seemed untouched by the horrors they had left behind.
But Athena knew better than to let her guard down. There were no zombies here, no infected lurking in the shadows, but something else had taken over.
The mountains had grown wild, reclaiming what humanity had abandoned. The trees were thicker, their branches twisted together like skeletal fingers reaching for the sky.
Vines draped over old road signs and telephone poles. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and something metallic, like rusted iron, or maybe dried blood.
The silence was eerie, broken only by the rustling of leaves and the distant calls of unseen creatures.
