W3D6: The

The night was silent but for the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze. Noah crouched behind an overturned car on the outskirts of the raider camp, the rough metal biting into his palms as he steadied himself. To his left, Greg checked his shotgun, his face a mask of grim determination. Eunhwa was perched higher on a rocky ledge, peering down at the camp, her silver curls catching the faint glow of moonlight.

They’d spent the day staking out the camp, watching the raiders go about their routine. Six of them, two standing guard during the day, while the others scavenged. By evening, they’d all returned, laden with supplies, storing them in the crates before retreating to their tents. Now, as the moon climbed higher, the camp was quiet. The solitary guard was leaning against a tree, while the men inside celebrated, laughter and the occasional clink of bottles drifting out into the cool night, before falling silent as they drifted off to sleep.

Noah turned to Greg, whispering, “You ready?”

Greg gave a curt nod.

"Eunhwa, go and follow the guard. We are going to sneak around, catch them by surprise. Remember the signal if you see him coming our way!"

They moved, keeping low, skirting the edge of the simple wire fence the raiders had erected. The raiders had left gaps in their defenses—an arrogance born of thinking no one would dare attack them. That arrogance was about to cost them.

They crept past towards the sleeping tents, the snores of the occupants masking their approach. Greg and Noah moved silently, each stepping in tandem with the other. As they neared the largest tent, Noah signaled, a hand raised, fingers flexing in a quiet count. Three... Two... One...