Unaware of the storm silently moving toward their region, the trio left their villa at first light. They took a rugged, all-terrain vehicle provided by the mayor and drove out of Oxglen's cheerful bustle, following the winding road into the thickening pine forests of the foothills.
The change was gradual, then sudden. The well-paved road became gravel, then dirt. The air grew cooler. The sense of modern ease slipped away. After about an hour, they rounded a bend and saw Oakhaven.
It wasn't a village anymore; it was a settlement under siege. The wooden fences were broken in places. The few fields they could see were trampled and neglected. The houses, simple log and stone structures, looked huddled together for warmth and protection. There was no smoke from morning fires. No sound of children playing. An eerie, watchful silence hung over the place.
