Ryland Carter's Arc

Chapter 4 of 5

Ryland stepped out of the pub and into the cold night air. His recruits would need more than drills and lectures—they'd need to see what made a real hunter. He walked three blocks west to a building marked only by a dented metal sign. Inside, weapons lined the walls in neat rows. Blades, crossbows, and modified tools hunters used in close quarters. He ran his hand along a reinforced spear shaft, testing its weight. His recruits would train with standard gear first, but eventually they'd need to know what worked best against different undead types. A scarred hunter near the counter nodded at him without speaking. Ryland nodded back and left. Tomorrow his squad would sweat in the bunker, but soon they'd stand in places like this, choosing their tools like professionals instead of desperate survivors. The walk back took him through streets he rarely traveled. Jagged concrete chunks jutted from the sidewalk beneath his boots. Grass pushed through the cracks, stubborn and green despite the cold. Even here, where death ruled, small things refused to quit. He'd built his blade with arrogance once, certain of his skill. That confidence had killed everything he loved. Now he saw the world differently—nothing stayed perfect, everything broke eventually, but some things kept growing anyway. His recruits were like that grass. Rough, scarred, but still fighting. He just had to shape them into something useful before Deadville ground them down. A lookout platform rose ahead, its wooden beams weathered and cracked. Twisted vines climbed the structure, wrapping around the crossbeams. Bright red berries hung in clusters against the old wood. Hunters used spots like this to scan for threats, to watch the streets below for movement. Ryland stopped and studied it. His squad would need high ground sometimes, places where they could see danger coming instead of walking into it blind. He made a mental note of the location. Training wasn't just about swinging blades—it was about knowing the city, using what it offered, turning broken places into advantages. He pulled his coat tighter and headed home. Tomorrow the real work began, and his recruits would learn what loyalty actually cost.