The Jackson Township Ice Arena sat like a sleeping giant at the edge of the commercial district, its brutalist concrete facade weathered by years of harsh winters and neglect. What had once been a source of community pride—home to youth hockey leagues, figure skating competitions, and weekend recreational skating—now stood as a monument to the world we'd lost clearly….
I mean I never went to such places but clearly it looked weird to see it in such state.
The parking lot was a graveyard of abandoned vehicles, their windows dark and doors hanging open like broken wings, telling silent stories of panic and hasty evacuation.
Sydney brought our car to a stop at the far edge of the lot, positioning us behind a overturned delivery truck that would provide cover and concealment while we conducted our initial reconnaissance. The engine ticked as it cooled, the only sound in the profound silence that seemed to blanket this entire section of town like a funeral shroud.
