W3D4: Noah and Eunhwa finds a raider camp

Noah crouched low behind a rusted car, motioning for Eunhwa to stay quiet. Her silver curls caught the faint sunlight filtering through the skeletal trees, but she quickly ducked beside him, her breath shallow and fast. They had been out on another scavenging run when they heard a scream, followed by sounds of a scuffle, before a deadly silence settled once more.

Across the street, two raiders stood over the lifeless body of a survivor. One was rifling through the victim’s belongings, tossing out scraps of clothing and papers, while the other stood guard, a bloodied crowbar hanging from his hand.

Noah clenched his fists around his rifle. The urge to intervene burned in his chest, but he knew better than to draw the attention of zombies with loud gunshots. “Stay down,” he whispered.

Eunhwa nodded, her jaw tight. She watched as the raiders loaded their stolen goods into their packs. “Bastards,” she muttered under her breath.

The raiders finished their grim work and moved off, laughing and jeering as they disappeared down the street. Noah waited until their voices faded before gesturing for Eunhwa to follow. They trailed the pair at a safe distance, weaving through the ruins as silently as they could. After nearly an hour, the pair found themselves leaving the town, and they stumbled upon a small camp nestled in a clearing.

The camp was rough but functional—four tents arranged around a central fire pit, with crates and bags stacked haphazardly against a makeshift barricade of scrap metal and wood. Noah counted six raiders total, including the two they had followed. One sat cleaning a rifle, another stood on watch with a shotgun slung over his shoulder, and the others lounged near the fire, drinking and laughing.

Eunhwa crouched beside Noah, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scene. “Look at all that,” she whispered, nodding toward the crates. “They’ve got enough supplies to last weeks.”

Noah nodded, his expression grim. “Too dangerous to go after. We need to get back and report this to Olivia and Greg. They need to know what's out there.”

“Yeah,” Noah agreed, his voice grim. “Food, meds, maybe even ammo. But look at them. They’re armed, organized. We can’t just stroll in there.”

Eunhwa frowned, her fingers toying with the strap of her pack. “What if we planned it out? Hit them at night, catch them off guard?”

Noah shook his head. “We’d need more ammunition. Maybe molotovs to even the odds. It’s too risky right now.”

Eunhwa sighed, her frustration evident. “So what, we just let them sit on all that while we go hungry?”

“For now, yeah,” Noah said. “We’ll come back when we’re ready.”

Reluctantly, they retreated, slipping back into the woods and retracing their steps home. The walk was tense, their failure to scavenge any supplies weighing heavy on both of them. By the time they returned to the house, the sun was sinking low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the yard.

As they stepped inside, Greg was waiting in the living room, cleaning his shotgun. His eyes narrowed as he took in their empty backpacks. “Nothing?” he asked, his tone laced with irritation.

Noah set his pack down, brushing past Greg. “Not today.”

“Not today?” Greg repeated, standing up. “You’ve been going out every day, and what do you have to show for it? Meanwhile, I’m the one keeping us alive. I’m the one bringing in the food.”

Noah turned, his expression hard. “It’s not like I’m not trying.”

Greg stepped closer, his voice rising. “Trying doesn’t feed us, Noah. If you can’t find shit, what the hell are you even doing out there?”

Eunhwa, sensing the tension, stepped between them. “We scouted something big, okay? A raider camp. It’s full of supplies, but it’s too dangerous to hit right now.”

Greg snorted, crossing his arms. “A raider camp? Great. So instead of food, you bring back stories and excuses.”

“That camp could solve a lot of our problems,” Noah shot back. “But we need to be smart about it. Rushing in will just get us killed.”

“Or maybe you’re just too scared to take a risk,” Greg sneered.

Noah took a step forward, his fists clenching, but Olivia appeared from the hallway, her voice cutting through the tension. “Enough,” she said firmly. “We’re all doing what we can. Fighting each other isn’t going to help.”

Greg glared at Noah for a moment longer before backing down, muttering under his breath as he sat back down. Noah exhaled sharply, his frustration simmering but contained. He turned to Olivia, nodding gratefully, before heading upstairs. As he closed the door to his room, he couldn’t shake the weight of Greg’s words. Supplies were running low, tensions were running high, and something had to give.

[Camp Morale -20, Greg -40]