Apocalyptic Rebirth: With a repairman system space, she rises again. - Chapter 348

Chapter 348: Raid on Rolling Valley.
Snow fell like rolling ash, twisting in the wind as three trucks rolled down the icy road. Their engines rumbled low, lights dimmed, wheels crunching over old frost. Inside the lead truck, Moon sat silent, leaning against the window, her reflection pale against the glass.

Behind her, women and children hurdled close, their breath forming small clouds that vanished in the dim of the orange glow from the pyrokinetics who burned slow embers in their palms, keeping the cold at bay.

Ahead, the storm bent unnaturally_ pushed back by the superhumans riding in the open trucks. The aerokinetics bent the wind, carving a narrow corridor through the snow.

So far, the journey had been smooth in Moon’s opinion, because even when the mutated animals attacked, the superhumans did all the fighting all she did was wait until the battle was over and offer advice on what to keep and what to throw away.

So far, the arrangement between her and this new group was working out just perfectly. So much so that she had not thought of her father in such a long time.

The truck hit a bump, jostling Moon out of her thoughts that were not particularly important. Her eyes traced the snowflakes falling outside and she frowned. Winter would be ending soon. The end of every disaster was usually more intense than the disaster itself. “The snowflakes are heavier, we must reach Crosstown tonight or tomorrow evening at the latest. Another disaster is coming…..I can feel it.”

Charmaine looked at her and nodded, no questions asked. He had full faith in her. She had not led them astray so far.

Charmaine’s son Emmet had his head pressed against the window. His eyesight was sharper than that of anyone in the group. “I see smoke ahead, there must be a town, camp or base.”

Moon squinted, looking ahead with all the focus she could muster. But all she could see was white piles of snow, frozen statues of people and animals. And some buildings around them, partially or fully engulfed in snow.

Charmaine looked ahead through binoculars. “The only town left ahead is Rolling valley. It is that place where all the smart tech people lived and worked. Many rich folks live or lived there; they probably have supplies. We should pay them a visit and take what we can.” His gaze flickered at Moon as if waiting for her to give them permission.

Moon shrugged. “Just don’t take long. And remember, rich folks tend to have guns and security guards. Power may be out, but they probably have generators.”

Soon, the trucks arrived in the town driving over the old frozen gates. The once fancy estates were still standing but warped. Their walls were scarred from acid rain and windows frosted over. The great ancient oak trees they used to be proud of had survived the disasters so far, but they were warped, mutated and twisted.

From outside, it looked peaceful. From inside the trucks, it looked like prey.

“Shut the engines.” Ordered Charmaine, who had become Moon’s second_ or perhaps servant, depending on who was speaking.

The trucks slowed, hissing steam.

Moon didn’t step out; she turned to Emmet who was wrapped in a brown heavy coat with a satchel slung across his chest. His small hand rested on the door handle. The kid loved causing trouble, no doubt he was going outside.

“Do your fake act quickly,” Moon said, her tone calm but cold. “And make them believe you.”

Emmet scoffed once. “I have done this too many times, I know what to do. Just sit still like you always do and wait for us to do all the hard work.” He smiled and mumbled, “Before claiming credit for it all.”

“That rude brat!” Moon mumbled, watching him jump down into the snow, landing softly. His boots sank almost to his ankles. Behind him, Charmaine and the first wave of marauders crouched low, following his lead at a distance.

Rolling Valley, though no longer a symbol of wealth was a now a symbol of endurance. Some people were gathered around fire pits, sharing hot beverages.

Emmet crossed the empty street; he was light which made it difficult to walk in the strong wind. He climbed the stone steps of the first building_ a convenience store whose door was closed. He knocked weakly on the door, coughing a few times.

“Please,” he called out, shivering on cue. “Please I’ve lost my group! Marauders took my mother and baby brother.” His legs trembled and he slid down slowly like he was too weak to hold himself up.

A shadow moved behind the glass window. Then the doorbell chimed as the door was pulled open.

“Easy, boy,” a man said, stepping into view. You are safe here. Come inside before you freeze.”

Emmet looked down, hiding the smirk that flickered across his face. “Thank you, sir,” he whispered_ then gave a small wave over his shoulder.

From behind a snow hill where they were hiding, Charmaine and the marauders advanced.

The stillness broke line thin ice underfoot Boots pounded the snow. The door burst open. Shouts echoed through the small place.

The people taking shelter in the convenience store realized it too late that it was a trap. They tried to fight back with tools and riffles, but the superhumans on the marauder team were too strong to handle. They moved like a single organism_ fast, efficient, merciless.

From the cab of the truck, Moon watched from the windshield. The reflections of firelight danced across her eyes. She did not care about what happened to the people that were harmed as long as she got her hands on their supplies.

“More death means more opportunities for those remaining to survive.” She muttered.

Not all the people in the trucks agreed with what the marauders were doing, one of the women whispered a prayer under her breath. Another turned her face away from the grim sight, pressing a trembling child against her shoulder. The sound of chaos carried through the wind, muffled but unmistakable.

They did not stop at the convenience store but moved to another building. Emmet used the same trick, calling out hidden survivors_ each time leading the marauders closer. The boy knew his role and played it well. In the world after the apocalypse, innocence had long been traded for survival.

And those who refused to open up still didn’t escape the raid. The raiders forced their way into their house, taking what they could at all costs. If they had time, they would have tried to pry bunkers open and forced out the moguls hiding within.

Within the hour, the Rolling valley was unrecognizable. Houses had been opened and emptied. Piles of crates, blankets, and fuel cans were stacked beside the trucks. The air smelled of smoke and death.

Charmaine emerged from the fog, slapping snowflakes from his beard. He walked to Moon’s window and knocked once. She opened it halfway, letting in a rush of freezing air.

“It’s done,” he said. His voice was flat, and distant. “The supplies are secured; we lost two men.”

Moon nodded, not in mourning but in calculation. “Burn what you can, survivors are a nuisance. We don’t need anyone coming after us for revenge.”

Charmaine turned without a word. A minute later, the sky glowed orange behind them as the trucks rolled forward toward Crosstown.