Winter had reached its coldest point.
The freezing wind had turned into a hammer wrapped in ice pellets, pounding again and again against the frozen earth of Tennessee.
In the winter of the apocalypse, the sky was an endless lead gray, only occasionally casting down a faint, pale glow that weakly lit the ground.
In such terrible weather, Hank led the reconnaissance team out of Rock Fortress, struggling along the ice-covered road east of Knoxville toward Norris.
Choosing Norris as the target had been the result of careful analysis by Calista, Rickson, and Leah.
The area around Norris had the Norris Dam and its related water control facilities.
Before the apocalypse, this place had potential power resources, a relatively stable water source, and supply storage sites connected to the water facilities.
There was a chance it had not been completely looted after the world fell apart.
Snow whipped up by the violent wind was like a sandstorm, reducing visibility to almost nothing.
The snow had already buried the chassis of abandoned cars along the roadside. The convoy was made up of off-road vehicles and military trucks, but even so, progress was extremely difficult.
"Hank, this is way too inefficient," Bossie said during a brief stop. "We're burning too much fuel too.
I suggest we leave the main road and try approaching the Norris area on foot through the woods along the side. Maybe we'll find a more hidden route, or stumble onto something unexpected."
Hank considered it for a moment. They were already close to Norris, and crossing the woods on foot might really be faster than following the main road by vehicle, so he nodded.
"Fine. You lead the way. Stay sharp. Jenson, focus on the forest edge and the high ground."
He picked two team members who had been driving and left them behind to guard the vehicles.
The remaining six got out with their weapons and gear.
Each of them wore thick white snow ghillie suits, goggles over their eyes, and scarves wrapped tightly over their mouths and noses. In silence, they followed Hank and Bossie.
Bossie's gaze swept over the snow-covered roadblocks, abandoned vehicles, and every faint clue that might suggest human activity or stored resources.
Jenson remained in a constant state of half-alert.
His sniper rifle was wrapped in cold-proof cloth, but his finger was never far from the trigger guard. From time to time, he raised his high-powered binoculars to scan the distance for possible threats, whether walkers or hostile survivors.
After changing routes, the team moved more slowly, but they were also better concealed.
Just as they followed the edge of an abandoned railway line, trying to circle around an open river valley, the sky suddenly darkened even further. The fierce wind carried dense sheets of snow straight into their faces.
A violent blizzard had arrived without warning.
"Find shelter! Now!" Hank shouted, his voice weak beneath the roar of wind and snow.
The team quickly searched for cover.
Bossie wiped frost from his goggles. With sharp eyes, he spotted a black opening beneath the railway embankment.
It was the entrance to an abandoned railway tunnel. Most of it had been buried by collapsed soil and snow, but there was just enough space for a person to bend down and squeeze through.
"This way!" Bossie called, sliding down the embankment first and ducking into the tunnel entrance.
The others followed close behind.
Inside the tunnel, it was darker and damper than outside. The air carried a thick musty smell, but at least it blocked the deadly wind and snow.
The team switched on the tactical lights mounted on their helmets. Several beams swept through the deep tunnel, startling a few bats roosting inside and sending them flapping away.
The tunnel was not long, only about a hundred meters, and the other end was also mostly blocked by a collapse.
It had clearly been abandoned for years. The rails were badly rusted, the sleepers had rotted, and broken stones and unidentifiable trash were scattered everywhere.
Bossie did not lower his guard. He moved slowly along the inside of the tunnel, carefully sweeping his light over every inch of the wall.
Suddenly, the beam from his headlamp stopped on something different.
It was a flat wall made of thick poured concrete.
Set into the center of the wall was an exceptionally sturdy-looking metal door painted dark green.
The door's surface was covered in rust, but the structure was still intact. The hinges and huge rotating valve handle showed just how heavy it was.
The doorframe fit tightly into the concrete wall, and the edges were filled with some kind of flexible sealing material that had now aged and hardened.
Most striking of all was the metal nameplate nailed to the concrete wall beside the door. Though rusted, the writing was still legible.
Bossie leaned closer, wiped away the dust and cobwebs with his glove, and slowly read the words by the light of his lamp.
U.S. Civil Defense Agency
Norris District, Reserve Site No. 17
Authorized Personnel Only
Built in 1962
"Civil Defense reserve site... 1962..." Bossie murmured to himself. His eyes lit up, and his heart began pounding.
He immediately waved Hank and Jenson over.
When Hank saw the door and the nameplate, even his steady face grew serious.
He stepped forward and pushed hard against the door, then tapped it with the butt of his rifle. The door did not move at all, only giving off a deep, heavy echo.
"Damn it, this thing is solid." Hank carefully examined the lock. It was an old heavy-duty mechanical lock with a complex gear mechanism.
Breaking it open by force would be extremely difficult.
"Looks like we found ourselves a Cold War-era stockpile,'" Jenson said, rubbing his chin, already eager to get the door open.
The team tried several methods.
They pried at it with a crowbar, all six of them slammed into it together, and they even tried damaging the hinges with tools, but none of it worked.
This door had been designed to resist impact and remain sealed.
"Hank, conventional methods won't open it," Bossie finally said after giving up. "This thing probably needs explosives. A precise blast on the lock or the hinges. But we're not professionals."
Hank's brows knitted tightly.
Using explosives inside a tunnel was very risky. It could cause a secondary collapse.
And what was behind the door was still unknown. If it was empty, or if it only contained supplies that had long since expired, then using precious explosives and taking that risk would not be worth it.
But the words "Civil Defense reserve site" drew them in like a magnet.
Facilities like this, built by both sides during the Cold War, might contain canned food, medicine, tools, or even generators, fuel, and other equipment.
These were exactly the supplies people in the apocalypse dreamed of finding.
After weighing it again and again, Hank made his decision. "We don't move recklessly. Bossie, Jenson, you two stay here. Set up a hidden observation post near the tunnel entrance and watch this place. Make sure no one else discovers it.
The rest of you come back to base with me immediately. We'll report to Calista and the others and request support, especially Jonathan and more manpower."
Jonathan had been a demolition specialist, and he was also the leader of one of the search teams.
When Hank's team returned to Rock Fortress with this astonishing news, it immediately drew serious attention from the leadership.
Calista, Rickson, Leah, and Jonathan, who had just returned from a hunting mission, quickly gathered in the command room to hear the report.
...
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