Third-floor office
Wu Fan leaned back in his chair, routinely opening the hive system panel, staring at the jumping numbers.
Point income column: +450, expenditure column: -230, net income: +220.
A few hundred points coming in every day, over two hundred spent—ammunition consumption, supplies, equipment maintenance, everything requires points.
It just barely balances out, barely enough to maintain.
He frowned. That guy, Merle, driving the humvee out with ten people, only killed this many in a day? Even if the people under him are rough, they shouldn't be this inefficient.
Wu Fan stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and picked up the phone: "Have Sandra come over."
Five minutes later, Sandra pushed the door open and entered.
She had changed into a clean combat uniform, and her spirits were much better than when she had just returned from the University of Georgia, but there were still faint dark circles under her eyes.
Wu Fan pointed to a chair, and she sat down.
"I have a mission for you," Wu Fan said. Sandra straightened her posture.
"Southeast of Atlanta..." Wu Fan took a map out of the drawer, spread it on the table, and pointed his finger at a marked location.
"There is a National Guard training base that has become a refugee camp. Do you know that place?"
Sandra looked down, nodded, and said: "I know it. I stayed there for a few days before the outbreak and participated in a joint exercise. It's a medium-sized base with barracks, a training ground, and supply warehouses. The facilities are still fairly intact."
"Now that it's a refugee camp, there's a group of survivors there, and National Guard personnel are maintaining order."
Wu Fan leaned back in his chair: "I need you to go there."
Sandra waited for him to continue.
"Talk to them and see if they are willing to join us."
Wu Fan said: "Those who are willing to come, bring them back to go through the process. Those who aren't—"
He spread his hands: "We won't force them, but there is one thing."
Sandra looked up.
"Those pieces of shit who use their status to oppress others..."
Wu Fan's tone was as flat as if he were talking about today's weather: "Don't pay them any mind. If you want to kick their asses, you can."
Sandra was stunned for a moment, then smiled.
That was the first time she had smiled since returning to the base.
"Understood, Boss."
She stood up: "When should I leave?"
"The sooner the better. Take your people and go in the armored vehicle!"
Wu Fan said: "Stay safe."
Sandra turned to walk out, but stopped at the door and looked back: "Boss, what if the situation there is very bad?"
"Then just bring the people back."
Wu Fan said: "No matter who they are, as long as they aren't rotten to the core, bring them back."
Sandra nodded and pushed the door open to leave.
Wu Fan lit another cigarette, but before he could take a puff, the door was knocked on again.
Amy pushed the door open and came in, looking unwell.
Wu Fan looked at her: "What's wrong now?"
"Something happened in the quarantine zone."
Amy said: "The room at the very end of the 2nd floor, the door won't open. The red queen locked the door."
Wu Fan frowned. That must be because the red queen detected an anomaly and took security measures to seal it off. Otherwise, if someone opened it without knowing the truth and went in, it would be fatal.
"Seen through the observation window..."
Amy continued: "An old man who was fine last night was found to have turned into a Walkers this morning, wandering around the room."
Wu Fan was silent for two seconds.
Sure enough, this was bound to happen sooner or later.
Everyone has the virus lurking inside them, and everyone will turn after death.
Old people are frail and could die in their sleep at any time.
Although the rooms in the quarantine zone are sturdy, the doors are locked from the outside, so the Walkers inside can't get out, and others can't get in.
This was also his reliance for daring to accept the elderly. With the red queen monitoring, if they die accidentally at night and turn into Walkerss, the red queen would be the fastest to detect the abnormality and seal it off. The downside, if one had to name it, would be like the beginning of Resident Evil 1—better to kill a thousand innocent than to let one escape.
"We need to open the door to handle it," Amy said.
Wu Fan nodded and reached out: "Give me your employee card."
Amy took the card out of her pocket and handed it over.
Wu Fan took it, opened the computer, and pulled up the red queen's permission management interface.
He swiped it on the ID card reader.
"It's done."
He returned the card to Amy: "In the future, if this happens again in the quarantine zone, just swipe your card to open the door and let security handle it. No need to come looking for me."
Amy took the card, nodded, and turned to leave.
"Wait," Wu Fan called out to her, "Call Rick, Shane, and Edwin over too."
Amy was stunned for a moment, but she went to do it anyway.
Ten minutes later, the three of them walked into the office one after another.
Rick had just finished morning training and was covered in sweat. Shane followed behind him, his expression flat but with bloodshot eyes. Edwin came up from the laboratory, still wearing his lab coat.
The three of them stood in a row, looking at Wu Fan, wondering what it was about.
Wu Fan didn't waste words and said directly: "A room in the quarantine zone was locked by the red queen. An old man inside turned into a Walkers. Amy just came to me to open it."
The three of them understood.
"There will be more and more of these things in the future," Wu Fan said. "I can't be called to swipe a card every single time."
Wu Fan asked them to take out the employee ID cards he had bought for them from the system.
He operated the computer, authorized them one by one, and then handed them over.
"One for each of you. It gives you access to the quarantine zone floor. In the future, when you encounter this, handle it yourselves. Don't let the people below come to me at every turn."
Rick took the card, looked at it, and put it in his pocket: "Understood."
Shane also took the card without saying a word.
Edwin turned the card over and over, looking at it, and asked: "Can this card open other doors?"
"No," Wu Fan said. "Only the quarantine zone. Don't think about using it to wander around the secret floors of the hive system."
Edwin smiled: "I was just asking."
He stubbed out his cigarette and waved his hand: "Alright, go get busy."
The three of them turned to walk out.
Walking to the door, Rick suddenly turned back: "Boss, that old man who turned into a Walkers..."
"Handle it according to the rules," Wu Fan said. "Confirm identity, notify the family, then cremate."
The rotting stench of a Walkers isn't scary; rotting itself doesn't spread the virus, and the smell and air aren't contagious. The real danger is its bodily fluids. If not handled, it will attract flies, maggots, and rodents that carry pathogens. The longer the corpse goes untreated, the greater the risk of contaminating the environment, water sources, and soil. In crowded places, it must be cremated as quickly as possible.
Rick nodded and went out.
After the door closed, the office quieted down.
Wu Fan leaned back in his chair, staring blankly at the ceiling.
People dying in the quarantine zone, opening doors to handle it, cremation—these things will become more and more frequent in the future.
People die when they get old, die when they are bitten, and die when they get sick.
Once they die, they turn, and once they turn, they must be dealt with.
This is the most common thing in the apocalypse.
But every single time, someone has to face it.
Wu Fan picked up the phone on the desk and dialed an extension: "Amy, after the matter in the quarantine zone is handled, have Dale go check on the old man's family. If anyone needs... to talk."
"Understood," Amy said.
Wu Fan hung up the phone and reopened the system panel.
Points were still slowly increasing, a few hundred per day.
He stared at those numbers, but his mind was on other things.
Sandra went to recruit the National Guard, not knowing if it would succeed.
If he could bring in a group of trained Soldiers, the base's defense would be taken to the next level.
That guy, Merle, has too low a scavenging efficiency; he needs to find a time to knock him into shape.
Points aren't enough; he needs to find a way to increase income.
And Shane.
Wu Fan switched to the surveillance screen and saw Shane walking out of the main building, heading towards the training ground.
His pace was steady, and nothing seemed unusual.
But Wu Fan knew that beneath that calmness were undercurrents.
The conversation with Dale the other day had some effect, but it wasn't enough.
Things like this cannot be solved in a single conversation.
Wu Fan turned off the surveillance and stood up to walk to the window.
Outside the window, the construction team was still pouring the wall, and the roar of machines could be heard faintly.
In the distance, a few people were pushing wheelchairs, sunbathing.
It was the old people from the nursing home.
They were chatting and laughing, and some were even knitting sweaters.
It was as if the apocalypse had never happened.
He watched for a while, then turned around, walked back to his desk, sat down, and continued reading those endless reports.
This world is still pretty fucked up.
But at least, in this tiny corner, someone is trying to make it a little less fucked up.
That is enough.
~~~~~~
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