Surviving the Simulation: The Grand Crusade

The Starlight Oasis main building loomed ahead, its once-familiar truck stop facade now transformed into something rougher, something meant to hold together against the unknown. The dull light of the overcast sky cast deep shadows against the boarded-up windows, reinforcing the sense that this place was no longer just a roadside stop. It had transformed into the closest thing to a stronghold they had.

Xander scanned the lot as they approached. The makeshift perimeter wall, formed from hastily repositioned cars, wouldn't stop anything determined from pushing through, but it would slow things down. A handful of survivors worked near the vehicles, shifting supplies, reinforcing weak points, and trying not to look like they were constantly checking over their shoulders. No one moved with the calm confidence of someone who felt safe.

A man in a grimy hoodie, his sleeves shoved up past his elbows, paused in his work to glance their way. Dust and dried streaks of something darker covered his hands; his gaze shifted from Xander to the others, wary at first, then relieved when he seemed to recognize them.

"Hey," Xander said. "JT around?"

The man nodded toward the entrance. "Inside. Either at triage or where we're stacking supplies." His voice was rough, the kind that came from too little sleep and too much talking over distant gunfire.

"Got it. Thanks." Xander replied before motioning toward the wall of vehicles. "Looks solid! JT got you on defense duty?"

"Nah. Just trying to make sure nothing collapses. The car wall is temporary. We need something better, but…" He trailed off, glancing toward the sky, where the light had already shifted toward evening. "We won't get to it today. Right now, we're still checking the last of the semis for supplies. JT wants a full inventory before nightfall."

There was an edge to the way he spoke, a quiet pressure behind the words. No one wanted to be outside when darkness set in.

"Appreciate the update. We'll let you get back to it," Xander said, reading between the lines.

He turned back toward the entrance, nodding to Zoey and Alex. "Let's drop this gear and find JT."

The supply depot was more organized than Xander expected, but the tension in the air told him that sheer force of will held together the order. They had stripped bare the shelving units that once held overpriced snacks and trucker trinkets to store whatever supplies they had gathered. An overburdened space, crammed with crates, bags, and scattered tools in every available corner, was visible through the open stockroom door. People moved in and out with quick, purposeful steps, their faces tight with exhaustion.

A large man stood by the entrance, arms crossed, a presence unmistakably meant to discourage looters or opportunists. His gaze landed on Xander's group, and he lifted a hand in a stopping motion before they could get too close.

"Nobody's allowed in the storeroom," the man said.

Xander didn't take it personally. People hoarded when they got scared and everyone hoarding whatever they could at this stage of building Starlight would tear it apart. That much was human nature. "Not looking to rifle through your stock," he said, adjusting the bag slung over his shoulder. "We've got a lot of extra supplies. Should we just leave them with you?"

The man hesitated, eyeing the gear they carried, then sighed. "Hang on." He twisted back toward the stockroom. "Becky! Got some people out here saying they've got a big drop-off. Where do you want it?"

A sharp voice cut through the controlled chaos inside. "Dammit, is that another one of those salvage teams? I've already told them at least three times to drop everything at the front counter while I get this mess under control."

Xander exhaled slowly, steadying his patience. He understood the frustration. Hell, he practically lived in it. But Becky did not know who they were or what they had just been through.

"We're not scavengers looking to dump junk," he called back. "We were out clearing the shop next door. Some of this stuff needs to be kept secure. People are doing their part, but fear makes things disappear fast, and I'd rather not see half of this walked off with before nightfall."

A figure emerged from the storeroom, fast and full of barely contained frustration. Becky Morgan was shorter than Xander expected, her slight frame lost in oil-streaked mechanic's overalls. A tight ponytail restrained her brown hair, and her expression reflected the exhaustion of juggling too many people at once.

She stopped just short of them, wiping her hands on a rag that might have been clean once. "Fine," she said, exasperation clear in her clipped tone. "Show me what you've got, but if you're wasting my time, I swear…"

Zoey was already setting down the first bag. "Two bug out kits containing basic survival gear and meds. We also found two suits of body armor." She unpacked each item with precision, making sure Becky could see exactly what was on offer. "Also, the shop next door still has salvageable goods that were too much for us to carry back including, more meds, tools, and food. Oh, and a giant-ass spider corpse."

Becky's face twisted in disgust. "Why the hell would we want that?"

Alex shrugged. "Analyzed it. Says it's good for crafting materials. No idea what kind, but if you want it, it's there. If not, burn it."

Becky didn't look convinced, but she didn't argue. Instead, she crouched slightly, running a quick mental inventory as her fingers hovered over the survival kits. "Okay. This stuff is gold. Armor especially. One guy came in earlier that looked like a dog or something had practically gnawed his foot off. Looked like a slab of meat on a shawarma cart."

Xander grimaced, as he had a pretty good idea who Becky was referring to, but didn't want to get into it further.

Becky stood, wiping her hands again, even though they had touched nothing. "I'll send a salvage team to the shop in the morning. It is too close to dark to do it now. As for the spider, that's a problem for tomorrow." She exhaled, rubbing at her forehead before continuing. "JT said people have been pulling gold coins off some monsters. No clue what that means yet, but for now, we're only taking items. Right now we're putting the equipment in the hands of whomever it will do the most good, but barter's the only thing that makes sense once we get past the initial survive the cataclysm stage."

"Yeah, let's worry about keeping people alive before we reestablish capitalism." Xander said.

Becky gave a short, dry chuckle at that, but she didn't argue. Instead, she waved them off. "You're good to go. Thanks for the supplies."

Xander gave her a halfhearted wave in return, already turning toward the main section of the building. The distant sounds of pain and cursing drifted in from the triage area.

"Come on," he said. "Let's find out what's going on."

The makeshift triage area had all the organization of a roadside accident scene. People moving with frantic purpose, medical supplies scattered with its packing material, sitting wherever it had landed when torn open in haste. Xander took it in as they approached, stepping past hastily assembled cots and makeshift stretchers where the wounded lay. Like the stockroom, they had stripped the former truck stop's convenience store bare, and its shelves had become rough dividers, but it was clearly not a hospital. It was just survivors, doing their best to keep each other alive.

A woman knelt beside a man with a bandaged leg, pressing a folded shirt against a bleeding wound while someone else hurried to find fresh gauze. Further in, a teenager tried to sterilize a needle over a portable camping stove. The acrid scent of antiseptic, sweat, and blood clung to the air.

And over it all, Charlie's voice rang out, loud and bitter.

"…I told those damn idiots to watch my back, but no, hotshot over there thought she knew better, and now look where it got me!"

Xander barely had time to register the complaint before JT appeared, moving fast, cutting across the space to intercept them before they got any closer.

"Alex, Zoey, Xander! Glad you're back." JT's voice was tired but urgent, his usual composure fraying at the edges. "Let's take this somewhere else. Charlie's making a scene, and I don't have the energy to deal with another fight breaking out."

"Oh, hell no," Alex grumbled. "That misogynistic idiot wouldn't listen to a damn thing Zoey told him, and now he's blaming us for it? He's lucky he didn't get himself, or one of us, killed."

"Not here," JT said firmly, casting a glance back toward the medical area. Several people had paused their work, uneasy eyes darting toward Charlie's raised voice. The last thing they needed was a bigger distraction.

"…should've been watching for me instead of showing off! That's the problem. Nobody listens to people who actually know what they're doing anymore."

Zoey's jaw tightened. "I want to cut him some slack because he's hurt pretty bad. Though, I really want to punch him."

Xander didn't doubt it. Zoey had been trying to keeping things lighthearted most of the day to ease the stress everyone was feeling, but even she had limits. He shifted slightly, stepping just close enough to draw her focus away from Charlie's ranting.

"Don't," he said, "Not worth it."

Her fingers flexed at her sides, but she didn't move. Small victories.

"Look, I know he's an ass, but he's also in a hell of a lot of pain. Some people lash out when they feel helpless. Charlie has always needed someone else to blame. It was bound to happen." JT said, "Unfortunately, I don't have the luxury of telling him off right now. We need every person we can get."

Xander didn't respond immediately. He understood the logic. But that didn't mean he had to like Charlie personally.

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Charlie shouted angrily about people who didn't do their fair share, people who caused harm to others, and people who were in charge but clueless. Xander wasn't sure if Charlie even realized who he was complaining about anymore, or if he just needed someone to take his frustration out on.

Xander met JT's gaze, then jerked his chin toward the hallway.

JT nodded, already leading them away, the tension still hanging between them.

The Starlight Oasis was holding together. But Xander had seen enough tornado and hurricane aftermath footage to know that everything balanced on a pinhead and it wouldn't take much for everything to come crashing down.

JT pushed open the door to his office, stepping inside with the kind of weary familiarity that suggested this wasn't just a workspace. It had been his second home long before the world fell apart. The room had the clutter that came from someone who spent too many late nights here even before the Simulation hit. A half-empty thermos sat forgotten on a filing cabinet. A spare jacket hung over the back of a chair. Paperwork, unopened mail, and scattered supply lists covered his desk, remnants of a job that had stopped mattering in an instant.

Xander hesitated at the threshold. The standard, uncomfortable office chair sat on the far side of the desk, a relic of pre-Simulation corporate misery. He ignored it and chose to stand instead, as Zoey and Alex filed in behind him. JT didn't seem to notice or care. He collapsed into his own chair with a sigh, rubbing at his temple before glancing up.

"Alright. Let's hear it," he said.

Xander summarized the next-door shop, covering what they salvaged, what remained, Charlie's injury, and the enormous spider they eliminated. He kept the details sharp and to the point, letting JT decide what was worth discussing further.

"I'll stop by Becky's storeroom later," JT said, leaning back, his fingers drumming absently on the desk. "Got a couple of people who know how to field dress, though I doubt any of 'em have dealt with a giant spider before. Then again, the Simulation seems to pull from past skills, so maybe one of them was some kind of exotic game hunter." He huffed a short laugh. "Either way, medical supplies are a big help. Appreciate it."

"We kept a cut for ourselves," Xander admitted, watching JT's expression closely. "Figured it was only fair."

JT waved a hand. "You took the risk. Makes sense. You get first pick of whatever is available to reduce that risk next time."

Xander nodded, reassessing JT for the hundredth time. The man was practical, not a martyr. He wasn't expecting blind generosity, just a system that worked. That kind of leadership could hold this place together if people were smart enough to listen.

JT leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the desk. His voice lost some of its usual pragmatic edge, dipping into something quieter.

"I'll be honest with you," he said, looking at Xander first, then at the others. "I need people I can count on. Right now, I've got a bunch of scared folks looking to me for answers, and I don't have half of what I need to keep them safe. Some will contribute their fair share. Others…" He said, shaking his head. "Fear makes people stupid. It makes them dangerous."

He glanced at the door as if half-expecting to hear another argument breaking out in the main area.

"I can handle logistics, I can manage supplies, but holding this place together? That's a whole other fight." he said, "I don't know how long you're planning on sticking around, but if you and your team want a place here, really want one, I'd be damn glad to have you."

The offer hung in the air for a beat. An unspoken recognition that JT wasn't just asking for extra hands. He was asking for allies.

Xander shifted his weight, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve. "I'm not looking to plant roots right now. I can't speak for these two but there is something I need to take care of before I look long term. But while I'm here, I'll do my part."

Zoey and Alex took a moment before responding with a similar response. All three of them were here until the immediate danger was over. They'd have to decide what came next when they reached that point.

JT gave a brief nod, something in his posture relaxing just a fraction. "That works for me. Stick it out until we're out of the immediate woods and you'll always have a place here down the road."

"Not to change the subject, but while you were out, things got... interesting. The other team hit the restaurant and hidey holes. They were light on monsters. Nothing worse than a few rodentia and giant rats. They dropped some supplies and then moved on to the hotel. If all the places around here were sparse, then either they got lucky..."

"Or all the real trouble is in the hotel," Xander finished.

JT tapped a finger against the map pinned to the wall. "That's my concern. That place needs clearing before the Safe Zone quest is complete. If the Simulation has a sense of irony, it might've loaded everything there."

"So, what, a spider was the appetizer?" Zoey said.

JT didn't answer immediately. Neither did Xander. The room sat in uneasy quiet as the implication settled in. If the hotel was the pinnacle quest fight, that meant the other team had just walked into a hornet's nest without realizing it.

"I don't like it. We're assuming the Simulation works on logic, but what if it doesn't? What if it's just…"

A bang cut him off.

The sound wasn't close, but it wasn't distant either. Something heavy had collided with metal, sending a dull reverberation through the walls. A moment later, raised voices surged from the main area of the building. Fast. Urgent. Too many people moving at once.

JT was already on his feet when the door slammed open, revealing a younger woman, breathless and flushed from sprinting. She had blood smeared on her shirt, and her eyes darted wildly between them, driven by urgency.

"They're back," she panted. "Harvey's team! They're hurt, bad."

For half a second, no one moved. Then JT was out the door, Xander and Zoey close behind him, Alex right on their heels.

Xander didn't know what he expected when they stepped outside, but the reality hit harder than he was prepared for.

The hotel-clearing team was barely standing. Their torn clothes, some slick with fresh blood and others stiff with it, barely covered them. One man's jacket, shredded along the back, revealed deep claw marks beneath the torn fabric. A woman limped forward, one arm cradled against her stomach, her expression hollow. They looked like they had fought through hell, and hell had nearly won.

Medics were already swarming around them, shouting orders, pulling the wounded away as makeshift stretchers arrived. One man was barely conscious, his head lolling as a medic tried to keep him awake. Xander couldn't tell who, his face too bloodied, Two others collapsed the second they made it past the perimeter, boots scraping against the pavement before their legs gave out.

Someone shouted something, but the words didn't register. Xander just stared.

A medic's voice cut through the chaos as they turned to JT, urgency clear in every syllable.

"Harvey's team just barely made it back. Several are hanging on by a thread!"

"How bad?"

"We've got two critical. One of them isn't responding. He's lost too much blood." The medic's words came fast, clipped. "The others are battered, exhausted, but stable for now. They carried back three who couldn't walk." He hesitated, throat working before finishing, "We lost one before they even made it through the gate."

JT's expression didn't change, but Xander caught the way his hands clenched at his sides.

The medic wasn't finished. "Whatever they ran into inside that hotel, it was bad. Scorch marks and something heavy enough to shatter bone. And Harvey…" His voice dipped lower. "He's not talking. Just standing there, watching."

That was enough to snap Xander out of his horror at the scene before him and turn his attention to Harvey.

Harvey stood near the center of it all, a wall of barely contained fury. The sledgehammer Xander had seen him with earlier was missing. Probably lost in the fight. A cut on his temple bled, streaking blood down his exhausted face. He looked from one wounded teammate to another, then at the body the medic had just covered.

His jaw tightened. A muscle twitched near his eye.

"We weren't ready for this," he muttered, low but sharp enough to cut through the noise. "I wasn't ready."

No one answered. There was nothing to say.

Harvey turned abruptly, shoving past one medic. Xander caught the briefest glimpse of his face before he walked off. The anger, the exhaustion, the way his eyes burned with something raw.

Not at them. At himself.

They had called it. Xander and JT had just predicted this was coming moments earlier in JT's office. And yet, it still felt worse than they imagined.

JT lingered at the scene, his gaze locked on the blood smeared across the floor. His lips pressed into a tight line.

"Man, I know we need to stay positive," he said. "But damn, this is hard. Twenty-four hours ago, I was a truck stop manager. Now people are counting on me to get a safe zone up and running before nightfall. Nothing like the weight of a burning world on your shoulders."

"Okay, pity party's over. Focus on what we can control."

Xander kept quiet. JT's doubts weren't something he could fix. The guy had to figure that part out on his own. Instead, Xander turned toward Harvey.

The man had already moved ahead, collecting discarded gear with a stiff, mechanical efficiency. His movement was that of a person just working off pure muscle memory with no actual thought behind the actions that they were taking.

"Harvey! Wait up," JT called.

Harvey didn't stop. "What do you want, JT?" he snapped. "I'm not in the mood for anyone's bullshit."

"Whoa, man." Zoey stepped in. "I get that you're pissed, but we're still on the same side here. Let's keep the anger pointed where it belongs."

Harvey let out a sharp breath through his nose but said nothing.

"This whole thing sucks," Zoey continued, her tone softer. "But we still need that hotel cleared. Otherwise, tonight is going to be just as bad, or worse, even. We need to know what we're facing."

Harvey stared at the ground, fingers tightening around a dented helmet. His jaw worked like he was chewing on the words before spitting them out.

"It wasn't pretty." The words came stiff, forced. "But we got out."

"That's not what I asked," Zoey said evenly.

Harvey scoffed, but didn't walk away. A long pause stretched between them before he slumped his shoulders in defeat.

"I've seen nothing like that before," he admitted. "Sure, I've seen bad car wrecks, maybe even some serious injuries. But I've never had someone disemboweled right in front of me. Never had to drag a guy out while he was still trying to hold his insides together."

Xander kept his expression neutral. He'd seen this reaction before. The moment a fighter realized brute force wasn't enough.

Finally, Harvey continued, his voice more measured.

"We were doing fine at first. The little rodent things weren't a problem. Then we hit the ballroom." His jaw clenched. "We saw three of them. Two were normal, the same as before. The third just… sat there."

Xander narrowed his eyes. Something about that felt wrong.

"And then?" he prompted.

"Then some of my guys just… locked up. Couldn't move. No warning, no sound, just froze mid-step. And the next second, those damn things tore into them. We tried to pull them back, but it was too fast." Harvey rubbed a hand down his face, smearing away dried blood. "We ran. We had to."

Alex frowned. "That sounds like some kind of magic-user."

"And it didn't follow you out of the room?" Zoey said.

"No," Harvey muttered. "It stayed put."

Xander's mind worked through the implications. That meant something. The enemy had a reason to stay inside. A weakness, maybe. Something they could use.

Xander evaluated the remnants of their fighting force. They still had bodies, but numbers meant nothing if no one had the will to keep moving forward. Though shaken, some stood, weapons in hand, burdened by exhaustion like a lead blanket. Others weren't even trying to hide their hesitation. A few had taken seats near the wall, heads down, letting the reality of it all sink in. They'd made it back alive, but Xander knew that wasn't enough. Survival wasn't victory.

He turned to Harvey. The big man was staring toward the hotel.

"Are you and the rest of your team up for this?" Xander asked. "Now that we know what we're dealing with, we can come up with a plan, but I need to know how many we've got."

Harvey didn't answer right away.

Xander saw it. The hesitation. Not fear, not doubt, just the weight of what had already happened pressing down on him. Harvey didn't want to talk about it, didn't want to acknowledge that the last attempt had been a disaster. But he wasn't walking away either.

After another long pause, Harvey let out a quiet sign and squared his shoulders. "Doesn't seem right not to see this thing through. Let me check with the boys, grab some extra gear, and meet you by the main entrance." His voice carried strength, but Xander could hear the effort behind it.

JT stepped forward before Harvey could move off. "Stop by and see Becky. Tell her I said you could have the two sets of body armor we brought in earlier."

Harvey gave a sharp nod, already turning away.

JT hesitated for a second, then added, "You know what? Never mind. I'll walk back with you."

That got Harvey to pause. He glanced at JT, then gave a small shrug and continued walking. He didn't argue, didn't acknowledge it, but he didn't push JT away either.

Xander watched as JT fell into step beside him, already talking about checking on the rest of the fighters.

That was leadership.

JT wasn't a warrior, but he understood people. He understood what kept them together, what they needed to hear to keep going. And in a world that had turned against them overnight, that kind of leadership was just as valuable as a blade or a gun.

Xander turned back toward the hotel. It loomed in the distance, dark and waiting.