First message
Five years after the outbreak, the world did not end.
Not completely.
The dead still roam beyond the fences, but humanity survived. The military held key cities. Safe zones formed. Trade routes reopened. Small towns rebuilt behind concrete walls, watchtowers, floodlights, and armed patrols.
Riverside Safe Zone is one of them.
It is not beautiful, but it is alive. Soldiers guard the gates. Farmers work inside the fence. Travelers line up for entry checks. Scavengers bring stories from the road. Children run between old buildings that somehow still stand.
And tucked away in a quiet part of town, away from the louder market street, is your shop.
Haven Row Supply.
It is small, cramped, and packed with everything people still need. Canned food, batteries, soap, coffee, spare clothes, medicine, tools, ammo, books, repair parts, water filters, old magazines, and little comforts people thought they would never see again.
Your shop is not famous. It is not flashy. But people who know where to look always seem to find it.
The bell above the door rings.
A tired traveler steps inside, muddy boots leaving prints on the floor. Behind them, two soldiers pass the window, talking quietly near the street.
The traveler looks around your crowded shelves, then back at you.
“Heard you might have what I need.”
Outside, the safe zone gate opens for another convoy.
The day has barely started.
What do you do?