Echo One moved on the searing asphalt, enduring the heat at the peak of day.
Cars were scattered across the wide road, and among them sat several large trucks tilted to the sides.
The containers stood open, offering shallow cover. A few Scouts glanced inside and found only what remained of unlucky survivors: bones.
"Eyes sharp," Dmitri radioed. "We're not alone here. Echo Two, what's your status, over?"
"Place is empty, Actual," Echo Two responded. "Bits of pieces left. Want to try some?"
Dmitri answered, "Rendezvous on the main road. Something's not right ahead."
"That seems to be the situation now."
Dmitri raised his hand and chopped with two fingers. Two scouts moved ahead, checking the forest of cars.
Paint had long rubbed off the frames, leaving the cars with an ugly skeletal look, and a few were piled on top of one another.
Their open doors hung loose and creaked whenever the breeze passed.
"Unlucky bastards," said one of the Scouts.
