A month had passed since Nicole and her younger sister joined the fortress. The nuns, along with Marcus' mother, had been diligently tending to the crops and barn animals every morning, ensuring the sustainability of their food supply. Meanwhile, Marcus led the teens through intense training sessions in the underground bunker's designated training room. The training consisted of endurance exercises, hand-to-hand combat drills, and weapon handling. Each teen practiced striking dummies with wooden sticks before advancing to actual blades. Some trained with pistols, learning how to shoot accurately at close range, while others focused on teamwork in simulated combat scenarios. The goal was to turn them into fighters capable of surviving outside the fortress.
Dean and Robert spent the afternoon cleaning the garage, maintaining the war rig, and checking the vehicles for any mechanical issues. Nicole entered, carrying a tray with glasses of juice and neatly arranged sandwiches, her younger sister walking shyly beside her. "Thought you guys could use a break," she said with a smile. Dean took a glass of juice, giving her an approving nod before drinking.
After finishing, Dean left the garage and made his way underground to the satellite room, where he spent time listening to various radio broadcasts. Survivors sent distress signals, describing their dire situations, while some independent radio stations ranted about the government's failure to contain the apocalypse. Some voices were hopeful, rallying survivors to gather in specific locations, while others were filled with despair, convinced that humanity was on its last breath.
As Dean listened, Jill entered the room, her presence catching his attention. "How can I help?" Dean asked, his eyes still on the radio signals.
Jill hesitated before speaking, "I want to go with you next time. When you go outside."
Dean smirked, leaning back in his chair. "You sure you're ready?"
Jill nodded with determination. "I don't want to just tend to crops and barn animals. I want to help, really help."
Dean studied her for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. Follow me."
He led her to the weapon room, where an assortment of firearms, blades, and melee weapons were stored. Jill glanced around, hesitant as she examined each weapon.
Dean picked up a compact submachine gun and handed it to her. "This one's lightweight, has a good rate of fire, and is easier to control. But if you're looking for something more precise, a pistol might suit you better."
Jill tested the weight of the gun before nodding. "I'll take this one."
Dean then grabbed a machete and passed it to her. "In case things get up close and personal."
After gearing up, they went to the garage, where Dean selected the Phantom—a sleek, fast electric motorcycle he had kept in pristine condition. He tossed Jill a helmet and got on. Jill climbed on behind him, awkward at first before hesitantly wrapping her arms around his waist.
As the engine roared to life, Dean looked toward Robert, who stood by the gate. "We're going out to scout. We'll be back before dark. Keep watch."
Robert gave a short nod. "Got it. Be careful."
With a sharp twist of the throttle, the Phantom shot forward, speeding out of the fortress gates. The wind whipped past them as they accelerated down the open road. Jill tightened her grip around Dean, still getting used to the speed, while Dean smirked under his helmet.
The world outside was still a wasteland of destruction, but for now, they rode forward, ready to face whatever awaited them.