One by one, dark figures jumped down.
Fully armed.
Black tactical gear, bulletproof vests, helmets, masks.
Everyone held an M4, their movements uniform and synchronized, quickly spreading out on both sides of the armored vehicle, their muzzles aimed at the camp.
That was the stance of professional soldiers.
In reality, it was all because Leon demanded they train like this; it didn’t matter if their aim was off, they had to project the right aura.
Shane’s palms were sweating.
Then, a man in a suit stepped out of the armored vehicle.
Dressed in a suit and leather shoes, he looked completely out of place in the apocalyptic environment.
He scanned the camp, his gaze lingering for a moment on the people behind the cover, and then spoke: “Who is in charge here?
Come out and talk.” Shane gritted his teeth and stood up from behind the pickup truck.
“It’s me.” He held his gun, not putting it away: “Who are you?” The man in the suit—Leon—walked toward him.
Two armed personnel followed behind him, their muzzles slightly lowered but ready to be raised at any moment.
“Leon, supervisor of the Umbrella Corporation Atlanta branch.” Leon took a card out of his pocket and waved it in front of Shane: “And you are?” “Shane Walsh.” Shane didn’t reach out, staring at the card: “Umbrella Corporation?
Never heard of it.” “You will soon.” Leon put the card away: “I came to find you because you have something I need here.” Shane sneered: “What thing?” “People.” Shane was stunned.
Leon continued: “All of humanity is facing an extinction crisis.
That virus—the Walker virus—is sweeping across the entire world.
Atlanta is finished; millions of people have turned into Walkers.
It won’t be long before they spread to every corner.” He pointed at the camp: “With such crude defenses, how long can you hold out here?
A day?
A week?
A month?” Shane’s face was livid, and he didn’t speak.
“I need to concentrate survivors.” Leon’s voice became solemn: “As the last spark of humanity, we have a base at the CDC with complete facilities and a research team working on a vaccine, but we don’t have enough manpower—especially security personnel.” He pointed at the fully armed people behind him: “See them?
A week ago, they were just ordinary survivors.
Now they are Umbrella Corporation security personnel.
They have food, shelter, and medical coverage.
They don’t have to sleep in the wind and rain, and their wages are paid in points—the more you work, the more you get.” He turned to the survivors hiding behind cover, who were listening intently, and raised his voice: “Are you willing to join us?” Silence.
Then, whispers erupted in the crowd.
“The CDC?
They have a base?” “Medical coverage…
isn’t that better than here?” “Food and housing provided?
Is that for real?” Shane’s heart sank.
He saw the look in their eyes change.
From fear to longing.
“Wait!” He shouted, suppressing the discussion: “Everyone, listen to me!
This guy is not to be trusted!” The crowd quieted down and looked at him.
Shane pointed at Leon: “Look at them!
Fully armed, driving an armored vehicle, suddenly appearing here and saying ‘come with me’—how can there be such a good deal?
There must be a conspiracy!
Maybe they want to trick us into being cannon fodder!
Maybe they want to use us as test subjects!” The whispering started up again.
Leon sighed.
He waved at the armored vehicle.
An armed person handed over a laptop.
Leon took it, opened it, and turned it toward the crowd.
The screen was playing a video.
The streets of Atlanta.
Dense crowds of Walkers.
They packed every road, every open space, every corner.
They were wandering, roaring, searching for living things.
Occasionally, one or two people could be seen resisting, but they were quickly submerged in that gray wave.
“Atlanta, one week ago.” Leon’s voice was calm: “Millions of people, now all turned into Walkers.
It won’t be long before they spread out, to every surrounding town, every village, every corner.” He looked up, watching those terrified faces: “Do you think this place—this mining site with nothing—can hold back millions?” No one spoke.
A few women held their children tightly.
An old man’s face was deathly pale, his lips trembling.
Shane opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but couldn’t say anything.
He knew what Leon said was the truth.
He had always known.
He just didn’t want to think about it.
Just then, two blonde girls walked out from the crowd.
“We’ll join.” Everyone was stunned.
Shane’s eyes widened: “Amy?
Andrea?
Are you crazy?” T-Dog panicked, rushing forward to try and hold them back: “Hey, you’ll be sold off!
Don’t be fooled!
My ancestors went through this kind of thing—” Andrea shook off his hand, looking at him coldly: “I’ve had enough of life here.
Even if it’s a trap, I don’t want to go on living like this.” She took her sister Amy’s hand and walked toward Leon.
Amy glanced back at T-Dog, a trace of apology in her eyes, but she still followed her sister.
Leon watched them walk up to him and nodded: “A wise choice.” He took two contracts out of his briefcase pocket and handed them to them: “Sign your names, and you are employees of the Umbrella Corporation.” Amy took the contract and signed it without even looking.
Andrea read it carefully and then signed it too.
Leon put the contracts away and said to the people behind him: “Take them to the vehicle.” Two armed personnel escorted the sisters toward the armored vehicle.
Leon turned to the remaining survivors: “Anyone else?” Silence.
Shane stood in front of the crowd, his chest heaving violently.
Behind him, Lori had woken up at some point and was standing at the tent entrance, watching this scene.
Her eyes were complex, with surprise, hesitation, and a trace of—longing?
“Don’t go.” Shane said in a low voice, not knowing if he was speaking to himself or to the people behind him.
But in the crowd, people were already exchanging glances.
Leon looked at them, then at Shane, and finally smiled.
“You will thank me.” He said.
Then he turned and walked toward the armored vehicle.
The doors closed, the engine roared, and the black armored vehicle sped away, disappearing at the end of the dirt road of the mining site.
Leaving behind a group of silent people.
And Shane’s livid face.