Stepping through the steel barricades felt like crossing over into a completely different dimension.
The outside camp was just a chaotic mess of desperate people trying to survive another day in the ruins.
But Camp Seven was a highly organised, terrifying madhouse.
Heavily armed soldiers in patched-up uniforms were running intense physical training drills in the dirt, shouting weird, synchronised chants that sounded a whole lot like the creepy prayers from the front gate.
Julien kept his eyes straight ahead, pulling the heavy wooden cart alongside Kyle.
They walked past rows of identical grey canvas tents and massive piles of military supplies.
Over on a makeshift dirt training ground, two guys were currently beating the life out of each other.
They were not wearing any protective armour and were just using their bare fists to do maximum damage.
Blood was actively pooling around their heavy boots, staining the dry dirt dark red, but neither of them stopped swinging.
