The air in the refugee camp was filled with oppression and despair.
The muddy ground in the tent area had been trampled hard, and discarded trash and empty tin cans were everywhere.
A few scrawny children squatted in a corner, poking ants with twigs.
Their mothers sat nearby, their gazes hollow, lost in thought.
Outside the refugee camp's barbed wire fence, the shadows of Walkerss occasionally flickered by, but no one was nervous anymore—they couldn't get out anyway, so what was the point of being nervous?
The Soldier on guard duty at the gate was the first to see the armored vehicle.
It was black, with a gleaming paint job, and had a red and white logo on the side that looked like an umbrella.
After the vehicle came to a stop, the door opened, and a fully armed woman stepped out—black combat suit, bulletproof vest, tactical helmet, a pistol at her waist, and boots polished so well you could see your reflection in them.
She took off her helmet, revealing a clean face, her hair tied into a neat ponytail.
The people in the refugee camp gathered around as if they had seen an alien.
They didn't even know how long it had been since they had last bathed; their clothes were wrinkled, and their faces were covered in dust.
And this woman was as clean as a magazine cover from before the apocalypse.
"Who is that?"
"Which unit is she from?"
"She doesn't look like military personnel..."
Whispers spread through the crowd.
Some were envious, some were vigilant, and others were simply curious.
In the command room, Major Harris sat at the end of a long table, clenching an empty pipe.
There had been no tobacco in it for a long time, but he was used to it.
When clenching the pipe, he felt like he was still that Soldier with superiors, orders, and a unit.
The door was pushed open, and when Sandra walked in, his pipe almost fell onto the table.
"Sandra?"
Sandra was also stunned.
She looked at the old man clenching the empty pipe and recognized his face.
Years ago, she had been a Soldier in the National Guard and had served under Major Harris for a while.
That period wasn't long, but it was enough for her to remember his face.
"Major Harris."
She said coldly, "I didn't expect you to be so tough to kill."
Major Harris's expression changed.
Of course he remembered her.
He had hinted at things several times back then, but this woman didn't take the bait and later used connections to get transferred.
He had felt it was a pity back then; now he only felt embarrassed.
But he was a Major, the highest-ranking officer here, and he couldn't show weakness in front of a former subordinate.
"I recall that you are representing some faction to negotiate."
He took the pipe out of his mouth, his voice turning cold: "If this is your attitude, I can consider this a provocation, a declaration of war."
Sandra looked at him, the corners of her mouth curling slightly, but the smile didn't reach her eyes: "Don't be nervous, Major. I am here to negotiate on behalf of the Umbrella Corporation. We are a biological company that collaborated secretly with the federal government. Since the apocalypse broke out, we have been fully dedicated to researching the virus and developing a vaccine."
The command room fell silent.
The gazes of over a dozen officers were all focused on her.
Sandra continued: "I hope you will join the Umbrella Corporation. For the last hope of all humanity, protect the base and develop the vaccine."
There was a silence of a few seconds.
Then, people began to whisper to each other.
Major Harris raised his hand, suppressing the chatter.
"A very nice story..."
He said: "But I'm not here to listen to empty words. We need proof. On what grounds can you prove what you say is true?"
Sandra was prepared: "We have a professional research team. The CDC, you should have heard of it, right? We have over a dozen researchers there, and recently two more experts joined—Dr. Elias Benson, a natural biologist, and Dr. Arthur Hawthorne, an authority on human genetics and viral genomics."
As soon as these two names were mentioned, the murmurs in the crowd grew louder.
Some didn't know what these two names meant, but those who had attended college, worked in research, or even glanced at the news, all widened their eyes.
Dr. Hawthorne, an authority on virology from Johns Hopkins.
Dr. Benson, a leading figure in the field of ecology.
These two people were actually at the Umbrella Corporation?
"And..."
Sandra added: "Our company has an endless supply of food."
This sentence was more effective than any doctor's name.
Several Soldiers stood up immediately: "I'll join!"
"I'll join too!"
"Count me in!"
Major Harris stood up abruptly, drew his pistol, and pointed it at the ceiling.
Bang! The gunshot exploded in the cramped command room, and everyone went quiet.
"Whoever dares to go with her will be treated as a deserter!"
Major Harris roared.
Silence.
Then a young non-commissioned officer stood up, looking at Major Harris, his voice not loud but steady: "Sir, the people at the Pentagon are all dead. We can't contact any superiors. How long are we supposed to wait? Wait until we starve to death?"
Major Harris glared at him, the gun in his hand trembling.
He wanted to curse, wanted to say "This is an order," wanted to use his rank to suppress these people.
But he opened his mouth and couldn't say anything.
Because what that non-commissioned officer said was the truth.
No superiors, no orders, no supplies.
He was just a Major guarding hundreds of starving civilians, unable to even fill his pipe with tobacco.
Just then, someone lunged from behind.
One hand grabbed Major Harris's wrist, and the other hand snatched his pistol.
Major Harris stumbled and fell, his clothes torn, and his pipe rolled onto the ground, breaking into two.
He lay on the floor, looked up, and saw his Soldiers standing on Sandra's side; not a single person came to help him up.
Outside, the choice for the refugees was much simpler.
"Is there food? Is there a safe place?"
"Are there walls? Are there doctors?"
"Can we bathe? Are there clean clothes?"
Sandra's team members answered one by one, and every answer made the refugees' eyes shine a little brighter.
They lined up, dragging their families along, and climbed onto the trucks. Some didn't even want their luggage, holding their children and pushing their way on.
But there were also some people standing on the outskirts of the crowd, arms crossed, looking disdainful.
"I am the deputy director of the Atlanta City Planning Bureau."
A middle-aged man in a plaid shirt said: "You want me to be manual labor? Are you kidding me?"
A black man in a suit next to him nodded in agreement: "I am a corporate executive, my specialty is management. You should let me be in management, or lead your people, and learn from the women in Guangzhou, Xia Country."
"Right!"
Another one leaned in: "You must give us high-level positions, otherwise we aren't going."
"Do you know who I am?"
An old man wearing gold-rimmed glasses held his head high: "I am the vice president of the Atlanta branch of the Hades Group. You should have heard of Hades, right? Haven't? It's written in the Bible; I can tell you about it right now—"
Before he could finish, several people nearby had already started rolling their eyes.
Sandra glanced at them, too lazy to even speak.
She had seen too many people like this.
They climbed to high positions before the apocalypse relying on connections and seniority, thinking their "management experience" could still trade for food when zombies were besieging the city.
She turned and left.
"Suit yourselves."
She left behind one sentence.
Those elites were stunned.
They thought someone would come to beg them, thought their "value" would be seen.
But the female Soldier walked away without looking back.
"Wait!"
Someone shouted: "You can't do this! We have rights—"
No one paid them any mind.
Several people who were initially hesitant, seeing the faces of those elites, instead made up their minds and ran towards the trucks with their bags.
At least being manual labor wouldn't mean starving to death.
Following this bunch of guys who only knew how to brag, they would sooner or later be screwed to death by them.
The National Guard Soldiers began moving weapons and ammunition crates onto the trucks.
Major Harris climbed up from the ground, brushed the dust off his body, stood in a corner, and watched his Soldiers busy at work.
The pipe was broken; he only had half a mouthpiece left in his hand.
Sandra walked over, glanced at him: "No need to move that ammunition. Leave it for Major Harris to protect these remaining civilians!"
Major Harris was stunned.
"We have plenty of weapons and ammunition at our base."
Sandra said: "The space in the trucks is for the civilians."
The Soldiers put down the ammunition crates and turned to help the elderly, hold the children, and carry the luggage.
Major Harris hadn't said he wasn't going, but due to his pride, he couldn't possibly go there and be a mere Soldier for them, right?
Weren't you here to negotiate?
Isn't negotiation just you making an offer and me bargaining?
But you, damn it, hung up the slogan of negotiation, didn't even put out any bargaining chips, didn't even negotiate, and just used a bunch of temptations to lure my people away.
I didn't even have a chance to make a counter-offer, how could I not be anxious?
Major Harris looked at the bunch of arrogant snobs, what kind of stuff was left behind? Let them go talk the Bible to the Walkerss!
On the way back to the CDC in the armored vehicle, Sandra was staring at the road ahead when suddenly Marcus exclaimed, "What is that dark mass ahead?"
Sandra looked through the binoculars, gasped, and quickly told Marcus to turn around.
Marcus probably also knew what was over there?
A horde of Walkerss?
He quickly turned the steering wheel to go around the other side of Atlanta.
The other military truck drivers were puzzled as to why the armored vehicle in front suddenly turned around, but when they saw the continuous, writhing figures not far away...
They all turned around to follow Sandra.
As for the refugee camp, one could only hope they fend for themselves!
~~~~~~~
A/N: I'm happy to announce that we've reached our Power Stone goal, yesterday! As promised, here's your bonus chapter. ☺️
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