Chapter 17: Crossing the Line

The air felt heavier now, thick with tension. Evelyn led the group forward, the sound of distant engines becoming clearer with every step. The survivors, already on edge from days of endless walking and uncertainty, now felt the weight of impending danger pressing down on them. Their feet dragged in the dust, their faces drawn with exhaustion, but they kept moving—because what else was there to do?

Behind them, the ruined city sprawled like a graveyard. The smoke from whatever was burning in the distance hung like a shroud over the land. The cracked pavement underfoot seemed to stretch endlessly, and Evelyn’s mind raced as she tried to calculate the best course of action. She had no idea what they were walking into, but she knew they had no choice.

The trucks, whatever they were, seemed to be moving in their direction. Evelyn’s heart pounded in her chest as the rumbling grew louder, until she could hear the distinct sound of large engines grinding against the earth.

"We need to find cover," Harris said, his voice low, his eyes scanning their surroundings. "If this is a military convoy, we need to keep our distance. But if it’s hostile, we need to be ready to run."

“Agreed,” Evelyn replied, her voice tight. “We can’t afford to be seen until we know for sure.”

The group scattered quickly, some ducking behind abandoned vehicles, others slipping into the wreckage of collapsed buildings. Evelyn stayed close to Liam, their steps light and cautious as they navigated the ruins. She glanced back to make sure Mara was keeping up, her dark eyes flashing with the same intensity as her own.

In the distance, the sound of the engines grew deafening. The trucks were closer now, moving through the haze like shadows, their large tires kicking up clouds of ash as they rumbled along the cracked road. The outlines of the vehicles came into view—large, military-looking trucks, armored with makeshift plating, their paint chipped and worn. But there was something off about them.

“They’re not standard military vehicles,” Liam muttered, squinting at the approaching convoy. “They’ve been modified. Looks like they’ve been scavenged from the remnants of old military bases.”

Evelyn nodded, her breath catching in her throat. Whoever these people were, they had power. The vehicles were clearly built for combat. She had no idea who they were, but that much was clear.

The convoy slowed as it approached the area where Evelyn and the others were hiding. She could hear the rumbling of the trucks grinding to a halt, followed by the sound of doors opening and boots hitting the pavement. The survivors held their breath, staying hidden in the shadows, hoping they wouldn’t be spotted.

Evelyn’s heart pounded in her chest, every instinct screaming at her to stay still, to stay quiet. She tried to steady her breathing, but the weight of the moment was nearly unbearable. Every second felt like it stretched on forever.

Then, suddenly, a voice broke the silence.

“Keep your eyes open,” a man barked from one of the trucks. “We’re not the only ones out here.”

Evelyn froze, her hand gripping the handle of her knife as she glanced at Liam. He was looking back at her, his face grim, his lips pressed into a thin line. They were both thinking the same thing: whatever these people were, they were prepared for something, and it likely wasn’t peace.

The footsteps grew louder as they approached, the men talking in low voices, but Evelyn couldn’t make out what they were saying. She clenched her fists, willing herself to remain calm. There were too many unknowns, too many variables. But she couldn’t let them be found. Not yet.

Slowly, Evelyn eased herself behind a rusted car, pulling Liam down with her. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and she saw the same wariness reflected in his expression. They both knew this was a pivotal moment. Whatever happened next would decide their fate.

She glanced back at the group. They were all huddled in the shadows, barely visible. Harris had taken a position near a pile of rubble, his gun raised, ready for anything. Mara was crouched beside an overturned car, her breathing steady, but Evelyn could see the fear in her eyes.

They were all waiting. Waiting for someone to make the first move.

Just then, one of the men from the convoy emerged from the smoke, his figure a silhouette against the dim light. He was tall, broad-shouldered, wearing an armored vest and a heavy rifle slung over his back. His face was weathered, but there was something about him that made Evelyn pause. Something that told her he wasn’t just another desperate survivor.

He was in control.

“Fan out,” the man ordered, and his voice was low, commanding. “Secure the area. Make sure there are no more surprises.”

The sound of footsteps scattered in different directions as the man continued to survey the area, his gaze sharp, cutting through the haze. Evelyn’s pulse quickened. This wasn’t just some random group. These men were organized. And they knew how to survive.

The man turned back to the convoy, speaking to someone unseen. “We’ll need to make contact with the others. Get the supplies loaded up and move out. The longer we stay here, the more chances we take.”

Evelyn’s breath hitched. Others? Who were they talking about? Were there more of them?

She risked a quick glance over the car’s hood, watching the convoy prepare to leave. A few men were unloading crates from the back of the trucks—crates that looked suspiciously like they could be filled with food or medical supplies. Her stomach growled at the sight, but she forced herself to focus.

“They’re not hostile yet,” Liam whispered. “But we need to know more before we make a move.”

Evelyn’s mind was spinning. They couldn’t just sit here forever, waiting for answers. If these people had supplies—and if they were willing to trade or share—they might be their only shot at survival. But if they weren’t willing to bargain, if they were only looking to take, then they’d have to fight.

“Should we try talking to them?” Mara’s voice was barely audible as she crouched beside Evelyn, her eyes filled with uncertainty.

“I don’t know,” Evelyn replied, her gaze still fixed on the convoy. “It’s a risk. But it’s the only one we have.”

The minutes ticked by slowly, the tension thick in the air. Evelyn’s fingers itched to reach for her knife, but she kept them clenched at her sides. She was trying to think, to make a decision that wouldn’t end in bloodshed.

Then, without warning, one of the men in the convoy turned and started walking directly toward the building where Evelyn’s group was hiding.

Her heart stopped.