Chapter 229: Leaving Eldoria
The faint hum of engines broke the morning silence as the convoy approached the outskirts of Eldoria. A column of M939 military trucks rumbled down the charred path leading toward the ruined city, their presence heralded by the distinct crunch of gravel beneath heavy tires.
Marcus was the first to spot them, standing at one of the catacomb's main entrances. His keen eyes narrowed as he surveyed the line of trucks slowing to a halt. He pressed his comm unit.
"Commander, the convoy's here," Marcus reported.
"Understood," Vincent's voice came through. "Have the men secure the area. I'll get the survivors ready."
Inside the catacombs, the survivors stirred as news of the convoy spread. There was a palpable mix of relief and apprehension-relief at the promise of safety, and apprehension at the journey ahead.
Vincent stepped into the central chamber, where Elinalese was seated among her people. She rose immediately, her composure calm despite the weight of her leadership.
"It's time," Vincent said, his tone firm yet reassuring. "The convoy is here. Gather everyone and prepare to move."
Elinalese nodded, turning to the gathered survivors. "Everyone, this is it. Stay close to one another, and follow the soldiers' instructions. We're leaving this place for somewhere safe-a place where we can rebuild."
Luminova joined her, her emerald eyes scanning the group. "I'll guide the last group out. Let's keep it organized."
With practiced precision, Marcus and his men began escorting the survivors to the surface. Vincent remained at the rear, ensuring no one was left behind. As they emerged from the catacombs, the first rays of sunlight illuminated the convoy, and for a moment, the survivors paused, squinting against the brightness.
The soldiers accompanying the convoy had set up a temporary staging area near the trucks. Tables laden with supplies had been arranged, offering breakfast rations to the survivors. The scent of warm oatmeal and fresh bread wafted through the air, a stark contrast to the damp and musty odor of the catacombs.Nôv(el)B\\jnn
In the lead truck,
Marcus radioed back to Vincent. "Commander, all clear up ahead. The road's holding steady, no signs of obstacles or hostiles."
"Understood," Vincent replied, his voice calm but firm. He leaned slightly forward, glancing toward the truck's front as if to confirm Marcus's report himself. His gaze then shifted to Elinalese, who was watching the survivors in the adjacent trucks through a small gap in the
canvas cover.
The convoy's path took them through a stretch of forest, the sunlight filtering through the canopy in golden beams. For the first time
, the survivors began to feel a semblance of peace. Children, who had been silent in fear, started to whisper excitedly about the trees and flowers they hadn't seen in so long. An elderly woman seated near the edge of the truck murmured a quiet prayer, her lips moving in thanks.
Luminova, riding in one of the rear trucks, shared a moment of quiet conversation with some of the survivors. Her presence was magnetic, and despite the exhaustion etched on her face, she wore a faint smile that reassured those around her.
"Vincent," Elinalese said softly, breaking the silence between them. "Do you really think Perm will be ready for them? For us?"
"Of course, it's mine after all. Whatever I say, they follow."
"I see..."
The convoy emerged from the forest, the towering walls of Perm's stronghold visible in the distance. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, hope became tangible-a fortress promising sanctuary and the possibility of rebuilding what had been lost.
Vincent picked up his comms. "Marcus, inform the convoy: final approach to Perm. Let's bring them to their temporary new home."