Day: 0 — The Day of the Fall (Early Morning)
The morning started like any other. Gray clouds hung over Atlanta, heavy with humidity and static. Birds still chirped outside the yard fence. Somewhere down the block, a car alarm wailed and died.
Nothing looked wrong. That was the part that always struck me. The world never looked like it was ending. It just felt slightly… off. Like a painting starting to crack.
I sipped cold coffee from a canteen, watching the news through the small dashboard monitor I'd wired into the HEMTT's power grid. Reporters sounded tired. Footage showed "riots" in Nashville, "violent outbreaks" in rural Alabama, "mass delusions" in northern Florida. It wasn't panic yet—just confusion wrapped in denial.
Then, at 09:12 AM, one of the anchors froze mid-sentence. The camera caught movement behind her—someone staggering across the studio floor, jaw slack, eyes unfocused. The feed cut to static.
I stared at the screen. My pulse didn't spike. I just exhaled.
"Right on time."
[System Notice: Operator Protocol entering Adaptive Mode]
[Training Efficiency Boost: +25% for Survival-Related Activities]
No alarms. No voice. Just confirmation.
I stood, stretching, and began prepping the HEMTT for movement. Every action had been rehearsed: fuel, power, rations, water, gear. The routine calmed the mind, even as the world outside began to tilt.
By 09:30, sirens filled the distance—police, ambulances, maybe National Guard units mobilizing early. None of it mattered. I had my own timeline to follow.
My goal for the day was simple: one final large-scale scavenging run before full saturation. Once the infected density reached urban levels, surface travel would become impossible without heavy noise discipline.
[Objective: Final Supply Run — Priority Alpha]
Route: East Industrial Belt → Book Depository → Medical Supply Chain Warehouse → Return to Yard]
I started the HEMTT's engine. Diesel rumbled like a contained thunderstorm. The truck rolled down the street, heavy and confident. As I passed through side roads, people turned to stare. A few took out phones to record. To them, I was just some soldier wannabe in a military truck. That was good. Let them think that.
Traffic had begun to clog intersections, but not from evacuation—just confusion. People craned their necks toward distant smoke columns, shouted at each other from car windows. A few stores had begun closing shutters.
"Too soon," I muttered. "They don't even know why yet."
At the industrial park, the gates were open. I pulled in, engine low, scanning for motion. Abandoned forklifts, trucks half-loaded, tools scattered like someone had left mid-shift. Perfect.
The first warehouse held mechanical parts and batteries—exactly what I needed for field repairs. I spent twenty minutes methodically stripping pallets, sealing items into inventory. Each action logged with machine precision.
[Skill Efficiency: HUNTER Lv.1 — Active]
[Skill Efficiency: MECHANIC Lv.2 — Active]
A crash broke the silence. I froze. A metal rod clattered to the floor somewhere near the loading bay. Instinct dropped me low, pistol drawn.
Two shapes moved in the dim light—workers, maybe. Their movement was wrong. One staggered, jaw loose, blood crusted along the chin. The other lurched toward him, biting down on his neck. The scream echoed, cut short by wet tearing.
My body reacted before thought. I retreated to the truck silently, closing the door with a controlled click.
The first infected. Right on schedule.
[Alert: Biohazard Class Z detected — low density]
[Recommendation: Avoidance priority active]
I didn't argue. The HEMTT rolled out of the lot without headlights, moving slow. I turned onto a secondary route, passing a row of small businesses.
People were starting to run now. Not all, not yet, but enough. A woman pounded on a locked pharmacy door. A man shouted from his car, waving his phone. Somewhere nearby, gunshots cracked—isolated, frantic.
The fall had begun.
By noon, I reached the book depository. It wasn't about entertainment—it was about knowledge. Manuals, field guides, engineering references, survival texts. If civilization collapsed, information was the one asset that couldn't be scavenged later.
I filled several crates with technical volumes, medical handbooks, chemistry and fabrication manuals. Anything that could teach me how to rebuild or adapt.
[Item Added: Engineering Reference Vol. I-IV]
[Item Added: Practical Mechanics & Field Repair]
[Item Added: Improvised Energy Systems Handbook]
Each crate shimmered into the Protocol's inventory.
By the time I exited, the air smelled like smoke and ozone. Columns of dark haze rose in the west—fires, uncontrolled and spreading. Police sirens had become background noise.
[Skill Progress: TACTICIAN Lv.2 → 78% to Lv.3]
The final stop was the medical supply warehouse on Fulton Industrial. I parked two blocks away and approached on foot, scanning. The place was still quiet—too quiet. The glass doors hung open, swinging gently in the breeze. Inside, fluorescent lights flickered over scattered boxes and overturned trolleys.
Someone had already been here.
I moved in cautiously, pistol ready, sweeping corners. Blood trails led deeper inside, vanishing into a storage aisle. I ignored them and went straight for what mattered: antiseptics, painkillers, antibiotics, gauze, bandages.
[Skill Check: Scavenging Efficiency +20% | Situational Awareness +15%]
[Inventory Updated — Medical Kit Complete]
The silence was broken by a distant moan. Not human. Wet, ragged, drawn-out.
I froze, eyes tracking the sound. A single infected shambled into the light, wearing a torn security vest. The left side of its neck was gone. It saw me—or sensed me—and staggered forward.
One clean shot to the head dropped it instantly. The body collapsed like a string cut loose.
[Skill Gained: Firearms Handling Lv.2 → Lv.3]
No hesitation. I finished the loading and left.
Outside, the world had gone loud. Smoke on the horizon, screams carried by wind, distant crashes. I climbed into the HEMTT and locked the cab, turning onto the return route.
People flooded the streets now. Some carried bags, others weapons. None knew what they were running from yet. That ignorance was the last shield civilization had—and it was cracking.
I turned the truck into the yard, sealing the gate behind me. The HEMTT's engine ticked quietly as it cooled. I checked the rearview mirror—just one last look at a city still pretending it wasn't dead yet.
Then I shut off the engine.
The yard fell silent except for the hum of cooling metal.
[End of Day Report — System Sync]
Readiness: 88%
Skills Active: TACTICIAN Lv.2 | MECHANIC Lv.2 | HUNTER Lv.1 | FIREARMS Lv.3
Operator Status: Stable | Mindset: Calculated | Objective: Survival Mode Activation in 00:16:00]
Sixteen hours left until the fall became absolute.
I sat in the dark, listening to sirens fade and distant screams rise.
Tomorrow, the world would burn—and I would be ready.
(To be continued…)