It was the third day after the Walkers horde, and the CDC finally caught its breath.
The grey-white figures on the road had finally dispersed, with only a few stragglers still wandering around, each dispatched by a single shot from the patrol team.
But everyone knew this was only the beginning.
The large-scale migration of Walkerss in Atlanta meant that the distribution of Walkers herds across the entire state of Georgia was being reshuffled.
Today they might head southwest, tomorrow they might move east, and the day after, they might just crash into your walls.
Jackie stood at the edge of the construction site, looking at the unfinished wall, her brow furrowed so deeply it could crush a fly.
The northern wall had blocked the main force of the Walkers horde, but the Walkerss that poured in through the gaps at both ends had nearly reached the barbed wire from the flanks. If another horde of the same scale came from a different direction—
"Jackie! The BOSS wants to see you!"
Amy shouted, leaning half her body out of the main building.
Jackie slapped her hard hat onto her head and jogged into the building.
In the third-floor office, Wu Fan was staring blankly at the map on the wall.
That map of Atlanta and its surrounding areas was densely marked with red and blue pens—red circles for Walkers gathering spots, blue crosses for searched areas, and green dots for locations that might still have survivors.
Now, he was pondering a new problem.
"BOSS, did you call for me?"
Jackie pushed the door open, breathless.
Wu Fan pointed to a chair, and she sat down.
"I'm more anxious about the progress of the wall than you are."
Wu Fan got straight to the point: "But the concrete wall is too slow. Some smart guy suggested an idea to me—using shipping containers as a temporary wall."
Jackie was stunned for a moment, then her eyes slowly lit up.
"Shipping containers! They're ready-made. We bring them back, set them down, weld them in place, fill them with dirt or gravel, and hang a layer of steel plate on the outside—it's ten times faster than pouring concrete."
Wu Fan said: "Plus, we can stand on top of them to patrol, and they can serve as walkways to move troops. Once the concrete wall is built, these containers can be converted into warehouses, housing, or guard towers. Nothing goes to waste."
Jackie nodded repeatedly, her mind already starting to plan.
"Where are the most shipping containers near Atlanta?"
Wu Fan asked.
Jackie didn't even have to think: "The intermodal rail freight yard, the southeast rail hub, is just north of downtown Atlanta. They usually have thousands, maybe tens of thousands of containers stacked there. It's a half-hour drive from here, assuming the roads aren't jammed."
"Anywhere else?"
"The logistics park."
Jackie said: "The logistics park in the city center has many loaded freight trucks; the containers are already hooked up to trailers, so you just have to drive them away. But that's in the city center, so you'd have to fight the Walkerss for the parking spots."
She thought for a moment and added: "The place with the most is the Port of Savannah. The container yard there has tens of thousands, but it's too far—over four hundred kilometers away, and I don't know if the roads are even passable anymore."
Wu Fan nodded.
A long trek of over four hundred kilometers, nine hundred round trip—fuel, ammunition, manpower, time—it just wasn't worth it.
He immediately crossed off the Port of Savannah option.
The city logistics park was too risky; it was easy to get in but hard to get out. If they got blocked by a Walkers herd, they wouldn't even have time for rescue.
"Let's go with the train station."
Wu Fan made the final decision: "The rail freight yard, half an hour away, back in the same day."
Jackie stood up: "I'll go tell the team to prepare the welding equipment and securing materials."
After Jackie left, Wu Fan pressed the intercom: "Amy, check the survivor registration list and see how many people know how to drive semi-trucks."
"Just a moment."
The sound of papers flipping came from the other end of the line, and a moment later, Amy replied: "Five people."
"Three are former long-haul truck drivers, one drove a garbage truck, and another said he drove grain trucks on a farm."
"Five is enough."
Wu Fan said: "Write down their names and notify them to prepare for a mission."
Next was selecting the personnel.
Wu Fan picked up a pen and wrote down names one by one: Merle—must bring. This guy's sniper rifle is the guarantee for long-range cover, and his reckless ferocity is useful for this kind of mission.
Rick—experienced in leading teams, calm in the face of trouble; he's needed to hold the line.
Glenn—most familiar with the road conditions in and around Atlanta; he was the one who scouted the path when we rescued that group from the nursing home last time.
Andrea—a budding sniper, take her out for some field training.
Daryl—he's been studying for a few months, and his literacy is good enough to read store names. His wilderness survival and tracking skills are in a league of their own; we can't do this reconnaissance mission without him. Plus, his crossbow is a great silenced weapon.
Dylan and Kyle, the two brothers, are veteran team members; they have great coordination, and their marksmanship has improved.
Seven people.
Plus himself, eight.
The choice for who stays behind didn't require much thought.
Shane—must stay to guard the house.
He hasn't been stable lately; taking him out would actually make trouble more likely.
Besides, the base needs someone with authority to hold the fort. With Rick leaving, Shane is the most suitable choice.
Wu Fan handed the list to Amy: "Notify these people; we leave early tomorrow morning. Have those five truck drivers get ready too."
"What vehicles are we taking?"
Amy asked. "The humvee?"
Wu Fan shook his head, indicating he would figure something out.
The humvee's armor is too thin, it can't hold many people, and if it gets surrounded by a Walkers herd, it's just an iron coffin.
He opened the system panel and flipped to the military vehicle page.
[Stryker wheeled armored vehicle: 8x8 wheeled, 30mm autocannon turret + 7.62mm coaxial machine gun + smoke grenade/grenade launcher, usage: troop transport, clearing Walkers hordes, assault. Redemption points: 100]
[BRDM-2 amphibious armored scout car: 4x4, 14.5mm heavy machine gun turret, amphibious capability. Redemption points: 100]
[Heavy armored personnel carrier: 8x8 wheeled, roof-mounted remote-controlled autocannon station + grenade launchers on both sides. Redemption points: 200]
[humvee armored version: equipped with machine gun/grenade launcher. Redemption points: 100]
[Tracked heavy autocannon vehicle: large-caliber autocannon + thick armor, mobile fortress. Redemption points: 500]
Wu Fan's gaze lingered on the last one for several seconds.
The tracked heavy autocannon vehicle—that thing appeared in the "Resident Evil 6" movie; it was practically a mobile fortress.
Drive that out, and not only would Walkerss stay away, but even a group of raiders would have to give it a wide berth.
Who would know how to drive it?
He asked himself.
A tracked armored vehicle isn't something just anyone can drive.
His intermediate driving skill book only taught helicopters and wheeled vehicles; he could drive regular military vehicles, but he had never touched a tracked one.
If he redeemed it and no one knew how to drive it, it would just be a pile of scrap metal.
Besides, even if he redeemed a skill book and learned how to drive it, if an emergency happened and he needed someone to drive it to support him, and no one else knew how, he'd be BBQ'd.
Better wait until he had more points to redeem it, and then slowly train others to drive it!
Wu Fan sighed and moved his gaze back to the previous vehicles.
The Stryker, an eight-wheeled armored vehicle, could transport troops and conduct assaults. Its 30mm autocannon would mow down Walkers hordes like cutting grass.
The BRDM-2, light and agile, could also travel on water, making it suitable for reconnaissance and rapid breakouts.
The heavy armored personnel carrier could hold more people and had fierce firepower, but 200 points was a bit painful.
He thought for a moment and selected two vehicles.
[Redeemed Stryker wheeled armored vehicle x 1, consumed 100 points]
[Redeemed BRDM-2 amphibious armored scout car x 1, consumed 100 points]
[Vehicles are in position, parked on the Hive ground lift platform]
Wu Fan closed the panel and stood up.
Tomorrow, he would drive these two vehicles to the train station.
The next morning, just as the sky was beginning to brighten.
The ground lift platform was already open, and two armored vehicles painted with the red and white Umbrella Corporation logo were parked in the morning light.
The Stryker was bulky with eight wheels, and the 30mm autocannon turret on the roof looked imposing.
The BRDM-2 was more compact, with four wheels plus belly wheels, and a 14.5mm heavy machine gun on the roof.
Merle circled the Stryker, touching the armor and tapping the cannon barrel, clicking his tongue: "BOSS, are you planning to move house or go to war?"
"Both."
Wu Fan pulled open the Stryker's door: "Get in."
The eight people piled into the Stryker, and the five truck drivers squeezed into the BRDM-2.
The two vehicles drove off the lift platform one after the other, heading toward the northern suburbs of Atlanta.
The fifteen-minute journey felt exceptionally long in the apocalypse.
The road was littered with abandoned vehicles—cars, SUVs, trucks, blocking the way in every direction.
The Stryker rolled straight over them; cars were flattened, big trucks were pushed aside. The eight-wheeled armored vehicle, like a steel rhinoceros, plowed a path through the sea of vehicles.
"This thing is fucking awesome."
Merle lay on the turret observation port, his eyes bright as a child's.
Rick sat next to Wu Fan, looking at the crushed car wreckage outside the window. He was silent for a moment, then said: "With this thing, we won't have to worry even if there are Walkerss at the train station."
"It's not the Walkerss I'm worried about."
Wu Fan said: "I'm worried about wasting time. The shipping containers must be brought back before dark."
The convoy stopped at the perimeter of the rail freight yard.
The freight yard was larger than imagined, with crisscrossing tracks and shipping containers stacked like small hills.
Blue, green, red—some were rusted, while others still retained their brand-new factory shine.
Glenn took a look out the observation window and lowered his voice: "Not many Walkerss, just a few dozen scattered around, but over there by the tracks—"
He pointed into the distance.
At the end of the tracks, a group of Walkerss was circling an overturned railcar; there were probably over a hundred of them.
"Andrea, Daryl."
Wu Fan said: "You two go with the truck drivers to pick out shipping containers—the ones with sound structures. Glenn, lead the way. Bring back any useful supplies."
The three of them nodded and snuck out through a side door with the five truck drivers.
"Merle, Daryl."
Wu Fan pointed to the group of Walkerss at the end of the tracks: "Clear them out, keep it quiet."
Merle grinned, shouldered his sniper rifle, and climbed onto the roof of the vehicle.
He lay next to the 30mm autocannon, set up his sniper rifle, and put the furthest one in his scope.
Pfft.
Headshot.
Pfft.
Another one down.
The Walkerss in the distance fell one by one, and a few nearby, hearing the sound, swayed toward them.
Rick took Dylan and Kyle to meet them, machetes rising and falling, clean and efficient.
Wu Fan stood next to the Stryker, watching the stack of shipping containers in the distance.
The first batch of containers was being hoisted onto the trailers—blue forty-foot containers, the bodies intact, the door locks still functional.
The truck drivers were skilled; backing up, hooking up, and hoisting were all done in one smooth motion.
"BOSS!"
Glenn ran over from behind the stack of containers, his expression grim: "There's a situation over there."
"What kind of situation?"
"Behind another stack of containers, there are people—alive."
Wu Fan frowned and followed Glenn around.
In the gap between the stacks of containers, seven or eight people were crouching.
There were men and women, tattered and worn, clutching wrenches, iron pipes, and rusty kitchen knives.
When they saw Wu Fan, some raised their weapons, others shrank back, and one woman shielded two children behind her.
The leader was a middle-aged man, unshaven, with a dirty bandage wrapped around his left arm.
He stared at Wu Fan's black tactical suit and the gun at his waist, swallowing hard.
"Are you with the military?"
He asked.
"No."
Wu Fan said: "Umbrella Corporation. We're here to haul shipping containers."
The few people looked at each other.
"Umbrella? Never heard of it."
"You have now."
Wu Fan looked at them: "How long have you been hiding here?"
The man was silent for a moment: "We've been hiding here since the outbreak. The freight yard had warehouses and food, so we held out for a while. Later, the food spoiled and we couldn't eat it anymore. We wanted to leave, but we couldn't."
He pointed outside the freight yard.
No need to look to know—it was swarming with Walkerss outside.
Wu Fan looked back.
The first batch of containers was loaded; the Stryker and BRDM-2 were parked nearby.
He thought for a moment and said to the man: "We'll be transporting containers back and forth. Anyone here who knows how to drive a semi-truck can join the Umbrella Corporation. We have food, water, and a complete, safe shelter. In the future, we'll work together to resist this goddamn apocalypse."
Wu Fan couldn't be bothered to give a long speech to a group of people about saving all of humanity. These ordinary people, their wives, and their children couldn't even afford a meal; who wanted to hear a long-winded lecture? Better to be practical.
The man was stunned.
The people behind him were also stunned.
The woman shielding the children suddenly stood up, her voice trembling: "Really? Can you take us with you?"
"Yes."
Wu Fan said: "But it's not for free. Once you get to the base, you have to work and follow the rules. Anyone who doesn't follow the rules gets thrown out."
"We will! We'll follow them!"
The woman nodded repeatedly, grabbing the two children and running toward the Stryker.
The others followed, afraid that if they were a step too slow, they would be left behind.
The middle-aged man was the last to leave. As he passed Wu Fan, he whispered: "Thank you. My friend Evan and I both have experience driving courier transport trucks."
Wu Fan told him to lead the people to select two tractor-trailer trucks and get in line to load containers. His family and friends sat in the cabs, and once loaded, they would follow Wu Fan's convoy back.
~~~~~~~~
A/N: Thanks to all the readers who gave Power Stones. Because of your support, you all get a bonus chapter! 😊