Wu Fan gripped the joystick, his palms slightly sweaty.
This was his first time flying a real helicopter.
Although the strange memories in his mind let him know exactly what to do at every step—pushing the stick, increasing collective pitch, adjusting cyclic pitch, controlling the tail rotor—his body's reaction and his memory were two different things.
"This feeling is fucking strange."
He muttered under his breath.
Even though he had never flown before, the moment his hands touched the controls, his muscles seemed to know exactly how to move.
It was as if someone had stuffed decades of flight experience directly into his nerve endings.
This was the benefit of a skill book.
And also the drawback.
Because there was no real flight experience, his brain was subconsciously nervous.
"Can I really fly this? What if I crash?"
Yet his hands were steadily executing every correct maneuver.
A few minutes later, Wu Fan adapted to this sense of dissociation.
Nervousness was one thing, but he still had to fly.
The Puma flew steadily over the suburban fields, and a few minutes later, the Atlanta skyline appeared ahead.
Wu Fan lowered the altitude.
Then, everyone fell silent.
The streets below were packed with Walkerss.
Looking down from high altitude, they writhed like ants.
Gray, slow, and endless ants, filling every street, every intersection, every open space.
In some places, they were so dense that the road surface was invisible, replaced only by a surging gray mass.
Rick's hand holding the binoculars trembled slightly.
"Too many..."
He muttered, "This is too many..."
Shane was watching too.
His expression was grim, but he managed to remain calm: "Three million people. Even if only a third turned into those things, that's one million. Back at the mine, we had no idea what it was like out here. We only knew Atlanta had fallen, but we didn't know the scale. Now we do."
Glenn put down the binoculars, his face pale.
He couldn't say a word, just stared at the ant-like Walkerss below, imagining what it would feel like to be down there.
Wu Fan continued to lower the altitude.
One hundred meters.
Fifty meters.
Thirty meters.
The sound of the helicopter attracted the attention of countless Walkerss.
They looked up—those gray-white faces, hollow eye sockets, open mouths—and waved their arms toward the sky, as if trying to drag the helicopter down.
Wu Fan piloted the helicopter in a low-altitude hover.
He saw people waving on some of the rooftops.
Yes, there were still people alive.
On the roof of an office building, seven or eight people were huddled together, waving their arms frantically.
There were men and women, old and young; some were even taking off their clothes and waving them desperately.
Their faces wore desperate expectation, and their eyes were filled with pleading.
Wu Fan took a glance, but did not stop.
The helicopter continued to fly forward.
Behind him, those people shifted from expectation to anger, and from anger to despair.
Some knelt on the ground, burying their heads and weeping; some cursed the helicopter; others collapsed on the ground, motionless.
"Are we... not going to save them?"
Glenn asked in a low voice.
Wu Fan said indifferently: "We can't save them. The roofs don't have helipads; they're all covered in large air conditioning units and heating pipes."
This was a bit of an understatement; there was another reason he did not mention.
It wasn't that they couldn't be saved—they could—but it was a matter of whether it was worth it. After all, anyone who had survived this long in a city with millions of Walkerss wasn't an ordinary person. He didn't know if they were good or bad. What if they caused a conflict on the helicopter, started firing wildly, and they ended up getting shot?
Unless it was someone he recognized or had an impression of.
Glenn fell silent.
He knew what Rick said was right.
But watching those people being left behind still made his heart feel heavy.
Wu Fan continued to fly forward.
He knew this was cruel.
But this was the apocalypse.
He couldn't save everyone; he could only save those who could be saved, and those who were useful.
Grady Memorial Hospital
This twelve-story building stood in the central area of Atlanta, with a helicopter pad on the roof—a facility that had been abandoned for years, but was at least still usable.
At this moment, in a conference room on the seventh floor of the hospital, a group of people was arguing fiercely.
"We must leave here!"
Hansen slammed his hand on the table, his face flushed: "The food is almost gone! Those cans will last at most another week! If we don't leave now, we might as well just wait to starve to death!"
Dawn stood by the window, arms crossed over her chest, watching him coldly: "Leave? How are we going to leave? Look down there!"
She pointed out the window.
Downstairs, the streets were packed with Walkerss.
They surrounded the hospital, wandering slowly, occasionally looking up and roaring toward the upper floors.
"Going out there is suicide."
Dawn said: "At least in here, we have walls, we have doors, and we can survive."
"Survive?"
Hansen sneered: "You call this living? Hiding in a room every day, listening to those things screaming outside, not knowing when they'll break in, not knowing where the next meal is coming from—you call this living?"
He pointed to the few police officers behind him: "I'm willing to lead those who want to leave to break out. It's better than waiting here to die!"
Dawn looked at him, her eyes complex.
She understood Hansen's anxiety.
She was anxious too.
But she knew even better that rushing out now would be suicide.
"I won't let the people here go with you to their deaths."
She said, her voice calm but unquestionable.
Hansen wanted to say something more, but suddenly—
Buzz, buzz, buzz—
Everyone froze.
What was that sound?
Hansen was the first to react.
He rushed to the window, pushed it open, and leaned out.
A gray helicopter was flying toward them.
"A helicopter!"
He shouted: "There's a helicopter!"
The conference room instantly erupted.
Everyone rushed to the window, crowding to look outside.
Dawn couldn't maintain her composure anymore either; she squeezed to the window and saw with her own eyes that the helicopter was getting closer and closer—
"The roof!"
Hansen shouted: "The helipad! Hurry!"
He turned and rushed out of the conference room, running toward the stairs.
A few young police officers followed behind him.
Dawn stood where she was, watching the helicopter, her heart pounding like thunder.
Hansen rushed onto the roof, panting.
He was exhausted; by the end, he was practically crawling.
When he pushed open the door to the roof, he held onto the doorframe, gasping for air. He wanted to shout but couldn't, so he just waved his arms frantically, making hoarse "Hey, hey" sounds.
The helicopter hovered over the helipad.
Rick was the first to see the person.
He pointed downward and said to Wu Fan: "There's someone on the roof. We can land. Should we go down?"
Wu Fan looked toward the building—Grady Memorial Hospital.
He remembered someone.
Maddie.
The partner he had saved on the first day of the apocalypse, only for her to be taken away by the military.
She had been sent to the hospital, but then what? Was she still alive? Or had she already turned into a Walkers?
He didn't know.
But since he was here, he would go down and check.
"Land."
He said.
The Puma descended slowly, the rotors kicking up a fierce wind that made Hansen nearly lose his footing.
He staggered back, hiding in a safe area, his eyes fixed on the helicopter.
More police officers rushed onto the roof.
They were all people willing to leave with Hansen. Seeing the helicopter now, they were so excited that they hugged each other; some even started crying.
Trapped in the hospital for a month, listening to the roars of the Walkerss every day, not knowing if they would die tomorrow, not knowing if they would ever see the outside world again in their lives—
Now, hope was right before their eyes.
The Puma landed steadily on the helipad.
The rotors slowly decelerated, and the cabin door opened.
Three heavily armed people jumped down.
Black combat uniforms, bulletproof vests, MP5 submachine guns, with dark gun barrels aimed at the police officers.
"Drop your weapons!"
Rick's voice was steady and powerful, carrying that authority unique to police officers: "Everyone, hands on your heads! Get down!"
The police officers froze.
But that tone, that aura, made them instinctively obey.
They threw their pistols on the ground, clasped their hands behind their heads, and all squatted down.
Hansen raised his hands and squatted on the ground, but he was still saying: "Don't shoot! We're police! From the Atlanta Police Department!"
Rick frowned, but didn't lower his gun.
Wu Fan walked out of the cabin.
He was wearing a suit, which stood in stark contrast to the heavily armed people.
He walked to the group of squatting police officers, his gaze sweeping across their faces, and finally stopped on Hansen.
"Hansen?"
Hansen looked up, stunned.
"Wu... Wu?"
He couldn't believe his eyes.
The rookie he had trained, that Asian kid who was just coasting through his desk job at the Atlanta Police Department, was now standing in front of an armed helicopter, wearing a suit, looking like a big shot.
The other police officers also recognized Wu Fan.
A few who were on good terms with him couldn't help but stand up, wanting to go over and say hello.
But Rick's gun barrel made them squat back down.
Wu Fan walked over, reached out, and pulled Hansen up.
"I didn't expect you to still be alive."
He said, a hint of a smile on his lips.
Hansen stared at him blankly, unable to speak for a long time.
Wu Fan pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and handed it over.
Hansen's eyes lit up.
A month into the apocalypse, he had forgotten what cigarettes tasted like.
He took one with trembling hands, lit it, took a deep drag, and exhaled the smoke through his nostrils.
"Nice..."
He closed his eyes, and his whole body relaxed.
The other police officers gathered around as well.
Wu Fan handed the cigarettes to them, one for each.
Soon, the roof was filled with smoke, a group of grown men standing there smoking, just like some ordinary afternoon before the apocalypse.
Hansen after smoking half a cigarette, finally recovered his senses.
He looked at Wu Fan, then at the helicopter, then at the heavily armed people, and asked the question he wanted to know most:
"Wu, what the hell is going on? How... how do you have a helicopter? Who are those people?"
Wu Fan also lit a cigarette, took a drag, and then began his performance.
"Hansen, there's something I've never told you."
Hansen frowned.
"I'm actually not an ordinary police officer."
Wu Fan said, "I'm an employee of the Umbrella Corporation, placed in the Atlanta Police Department as an undercover agent, responsible for collecting information detrimental to the company."
The cigarette Hansen was holding in his mouth fell to the ground.
He opened his mouth wide, looking at Wu Fan as if looking at a stranger.
"You... you're an undercover agent?"
Wu Fan nodded.
The other police officers were stunned too.
They had worked with Wu Fan for several years and had never noticed anything unusual.
This kid was usually lazy, not proactive at work, always quick to leave after hours, looking just like an ordinary desk clerk coasting through life.
He was actually an undercover agent?
Hansen gasped.
If the apocalypse hadn't broken out, if he hadn't seen this helicopter with his own eyes, he wouldn't have believed that the apprentice he trained was an undercover agent even if it killed him.
Wu Fan watched their expressions, smiled, and continued: "But now, none of that matters."
He threw the cigarette butt on the ground and crushed it.
"You've all seen what the situation is like outside. Humanity is going extinct, but we—the Umbrella Corporation—are researching a cure for the virus."
He paused, looking into Hansen's eyes.
"We need people. We need people who can fight, people who can protect those researchers. Are you willing to come?"
Hansen looked at him and was silent for a long time.
Then he reached out and firmly grasped Wu Fan's hand.
"I've had enough of this shitty apocalypse."
He said, his voice a bit hoarse: "If I can do something to make this world go back to how it was, it's worth risking my life."
The other police officers nodded one after another.
"We're in!"
"Count me in!"
"I've been wanting to get out of this hellhole for a long time!"
Wu Fan looked at them and nodded.