Ethan trudged along the rusted train tracks, the shovel's blade scraping the gravel as he carried the duffel slung over his shoulder. Mia kept pace beside him, axe tucked into her belt, her boots crunching on the ties. Riley and Vance led the group—thirty survivors strong—machete and pipe swinging at their sides, their crews hauling bags and weapons: spears, crowbars, a sledgehammer gripped by the burly man. The red-streaked sky cast a faint glow over the landscape, trees thinning into a flat stretch of scrub and dirt, the tracks cutting a straight path west from the river.
[Predator Sense] hummed, picking up faint howls south, a flutter of wings north, but nothing close. The air smelled of dry earth and oil, the breach's weight settling into the silence. The tracks stretched ahead, glinting faintly, until a shape loomed through the haze—a freight train, derailed, its cars tipped across the rails, rust streaking their steel sides. Riley raised her machete, halting the group. "Hold up," she said, pointing. "That's shelter."
Vance stepped forward, pipe tapping a rail. "If it's empty. Could be a nest."
Ethan set the duffel down, gripping the shovel. [Perception] caught the details: three cars—two boxcars and a flatbed—tilted off the tracks, doors ajar, no claw marks or fresh blood on the metal. "Looks abandoned," he said, nodding to the nearest boxcar. "We check it."
Riley waved Pete and Cal forward. "Scout it. Quiet."
Pete clutched his spear, stepping onto the gravel, while Cal hefted the crowbar, rope coiled at his belt. They approached the first boxcar, its door half-open, shadows pooling inside. Pete peeked in, spear raised, then signaled back. "Clear," he said, voice low. Cal pried the door wider, the creak echoing, and stepped inside, crowbar tapping the floor. "Empty," he called, emerging with a nod.
Tara slung her bat over her shoulder, joining Mia by the flatbed. "No monsters," she said, kicking a loose bolt into the dirt. "Yet."
Riley gestured the group forward. "Set up here. Rest, then push west."
Ethan hauled the duffel to the second boxcar, its door stuck halfway. He jammed the shovel into the gap, prying it open, the metal groaning as it slid. Inside, the floor was bare, dust swirling in the dim light, a broken crate in the corner spilling straw. Mia dropped the duffel inside, pulling out water bottles and passing them to the burly man, who stacked them against the wall. Cal tossed the rope in, crowbar resting by the door, while Tara dragged a blanket from her bag, spreading it on the floor.
Vance's crew claimed the first boxcar, piling their haul—bandages, a few cans—near the entrance. The burly man hefted his sledgehammer, propping it against the flatbed, where Pete and two others tied spears into a makeshift barricade across the open side. Riley climbed onto the flatbed, machete in hand, scanning the tracks west. "Quiet now," she said, jumping down. "Won't last."
Ethan grabbed a rusted rail spike from the gravel, tucking it into his belt—backup for the shovel. [Predator Sense] pinged—a low growl, east, closing slow. "Something's coming," he said, stepping to the boxcar's edge.
Riley nodded, signaling Vance. "Defenses up. East side."
Vance grabbed his pipe, barking at his crew. "Line the rails—spears out." His group fanned along the tracks, pipes and chains ready, the crossbow woman notching a bolt. Riley's crew joined them, Pete's spear squad forming a row, the burly man anchoring the flatbed with his sledgehammer.
Mia gripped her axe, standing by Ethan, while Cal and Tara flanked the boxcar's door, crowbar and bat raised. A shape lumbered from the east—a bear, not as massive as the train yard's, but broad, its fur patchy, claws scraping the gravel. It roared, charging the line, jaws wide.
Ethan leapt forward, shovel swinging, cracking its shoulder as it reared. Riley's machete slashed its flank, blood spraying, while Vance's pipe smashed its snout. The crossbow bolt thunked into its chest, and the burly man's sledgehammer crushed its skull, the bear collapsing in a heap.
[Monster slain: Lesser Breach Bear]
[Attributes Gained: +1 Strength]
[Rewards Gained: None]
Riley wiped her machete on the bear's fur, stepping back. "Clean kill. Rest now."
Ethan hauled the shovel back to the boxcar, the group dispersing to their spots, the tracks quiet again. Mia set her axe down, passing him a water bottle. "Solid," she said, taking a sip from her own.
"Solid's what we need," he replied, drinking deep, the steel walls a cold shield around them.