"Hello? Please, if anyone can hear this... please, just listen. Beyond the city of Lost Haven... We have water, and food... We have enough for anyone who arrives... Beyond the city.... Please come... New Heaven is there."
'The old world died long ago, and anyone who thinks they can bring it back is foolish'. That's the thought Salem pondered as he gazed upon the ruined city that lay before him. Yet, here he was. Staring blankly at the graveyard ahead of him. The only way to this supposed "New Heaven" was to enter the city from the vast West. To the South laid the Long Highway, an expanse that is said to have winds so strong and hot they could tear flesh from bone. To the North was Kaga country, where the largest infestation of the monsters could be found. While it was a ways North from Lost Haven, just the fact they were lurking made it impossible to traverse. So, the West it was, for in the East lied the goal. Salem had heard the broadcast only a few days ago. The message only lasted for a few hours, but just the fact they could get enough juice for a few hours of broadcasting meant there was at least something to this place. Salem rubbed the dust off his face, lifting the cloth up to his nose and lowering his goggles, dimming the already dark expanse that awaited him.
He had heard stories about what cities like this were like before The Fall. Survival tips nowadays say to stay away from the cities, despite the fact they have the best shelter from the Kaga. They often act as a breeding ground for the beasts. But, if that doesn't do you in, the silence will. To see such places... barren. Empty of life. One would think you would hear the echoes of those who came before, like dying screams. That wasn't the case. It was just, silent. At least, that's how Salem felt whenever he had the misfortune to pass through them.
'Enough of this, I need to find shelter. It's getting dark out,' Salem thought to himself as he sought a place to lay his head. There was an old gas station that sat on the outskirts of the city. It was the closest building he could see, so it would do. Removing his gun from his hip, he checked the clip and sighed heavily. Four shots were left. Not enough to keep him alive should the worst be inside the station. Holstering his gun and removing the knife strapped to his left thigh, he began a slow approach toward the building.
The gas pumps were dismantled, likely having been robbed of what they had right after The Fall. It was of little importance, since gasoline was only good for generators, and Salem couldn't transport something like that with him. In the early years, people would travel the expanse in cars, looking for a place to settle down. But, good luck finding a vehicle with working parts in this world. Salem walked up to the station, holding the blade close to his chest. He slowly put his hand on the doorknob, and turned. At first, the door wouldn't open. Looking inside through the window, Salem couldn't see anything obstructing it, leaving only one possible reason. It was jammed. Sticking his blade through the crack in the door, he began shaking it violently as he tried pushing the door in by force. After a few good shoves, the door flung open and Salem stumbled into the room. He readied his blade as he moved forward. While the door might have been tightly shut, that didn't mean something else couldn't have found another way in.
Moving through the building, Salem's stomach growled as the realization he hadn't ate in days began to set in. Alas, there was nothing here. The shelves were empty and there appeared to be no "stashes" to speak off. Salem made his way to behind the sales counter, his eyes not even flinching at the sight of a uniform with skeletal remains lining the inside of it. The uniform had the name "Dave" stitched into it. It was from before all of this, but in his clinched hand was a military ration. People in the expanse would often find these among the dead bodies of the old world. After the initial Fall, relief posts popped up, but without any organization or way to communicate effectively, they disappeared within a few months. This poor soul likely took his rations and came back here, planning to hide away until the disaster past. At least, that was Salem's wishful thinking. The missing food and empty shelves told him this place was ransacked, and Dave most likely the victim of looters. However, they didn't get this one ration pack, and Salem was grateful for it. Removing it from the hand of the dead, Salem took the pack and walked back to the door. He gently closed it, but not before setting up a trap for anything that would plan on entering. Using a few of the empty cans that littered the room, Salem stacked them in front of the door, though at an angle that one could not see them through a window. Walking to the last aisle and laying down, he kept his knife clenched in his right hand as he prepared to sleep. With any luck, it would be the last one he would take outside of New Heaven.
