The Next Day
When morning sunlight streamed into the mall, all the soldiers and civilians sleeping on the floor were awakened by their internal clocks, one by one stirring back to consciousness.
After a simple breakfast, following Brian's plan from the previous day, Elton called over one of the new soldiers to drive one of the cargo trucks forward, positioning it with the rear facing the main entrance—making it easier to load supplies. He then instructed the fourteen civilians to begin moving the sealed boxes from the night before onto the truck in an orderly fashion.
Meanwhile, Brian gathered the rest of his team around the table where they had stood the day before. He pulled out the Peachtree City map from his jacket and began assigning today's tasks.
"Mike, you and Elton stay here. Collect as many usable supplies as you can from the surrounding area and protect the civilians."
As he spoke, he glanced out of the corner of his eye at Cindy, who was peeking over from a distance, watching their group with curiosity.
"And above all—keep an eye on that woman. Don't let her out of your sight."
"Ugh… fine."
Mike wasn't thrilled about being left behind. He'd been hoping to go out and explore. But when he saw Brian's sharp, unyielding gaze, he immediately lowered his head, grabbed his rifle, and headed toward the entrance.
Next, Brian tapped the map at their current location, then traced a path southward along the road outside the mall, finally stopping at a large shopping center several kilometers away. He looked at Wade and Kim Seong-min.
"Follow this road south. A few kilometers ahead, there's a major shopping center. You'll be responsible for clearing it. Along the way, check any pharmacies, supermarkets, or convenience stores—see what supplies you can find. Mark the locations and call the convoy to pick them up."
Then, lowering his voice, he added quietly:
"Observe the layout inside the mall. Prepare the area. We might make a move tonight. And if you sense anyone watching you, act like you don't notice. Understand?"
Wade and Kim exchanged a glance, silently nodded, then grabbed their weapons and backpacks and left the mall.
Once they were gone, Brian folded the map and tucked it away. He signaled to Norman to gather his gear, and together, they stepped outside.
After leaving the mall, Brian and Norman began moving south through Peachtree City. Once they'd put a safe distance between themselves and the others, Brian finally asked:
"What did that woman do last night? Did you see?"
"Yeah."
Norman nodded, recalling the scene.
"Last night, a man met her outside. She passed him a note and said something—I was too far to hear clearly, but the gist was that they plan to kill all of us tonight, take our weapons and supplies."
He turned to Brian.
"That guy also slipped something into her hand. Did you see what it was?"
"When she thought I was asleep, I checked. It was a strong sedative. They probably think we're undisciplined and plan to drug our food. Once we're all unconscious, they can take us out without a fight."
"Hmph. Simple and brutal."
Norman scoffed, then continued:
"I followed the man. He went into a large hotel a few kilometers away—just one or two kilometers before that shopping center. I watched from outside and saw four or five people. Since I didn't know the full situation inside, I decided to return."
"Hmm…"
With this intel, Brian already had a clear idea of how the local survivor group planned to attack. But the real issue was numbers. Even if they caught them off guard, if the enemy force was too large, they wouldn't stand a chance—no matter how experienced the soldiers. Unless, of course, they were one of those "one-man-army" soldiers from novels…
The key factors were the enemy's numbers… and how many weapons they had.
Brian checked his watch. It was just past 6:30 a.m. The local group had spotted them yesterday afternoon. Their base was on the opposite side of town. They couldn't mobilize quickly. Even at their fastest, they couldn't gather many people on short notice—that's why they hadn't attacked last night. The people in the hotel were likely just their scavenging teams nearby. And the number probably wasn't large.
Brian thought for a moment, then said to Norman:
"Go now and keep watch on that hotel. Confirm how many are there and what weapons they have. If they're too strong, we'll have to be ready to retreat."
They were only here to gather supplies. It wasn't worth dying over. But if they could get a good haul and finish the mission early, all the better.
"Understood."
Norman knew Brian's reasoning. If the enemy was too powerful, retreating was the smart move.
Without another word, he sprinted toward the southwest and vanished around the corner of the street.
"Looks like we need to prepare some weapons."
Brian had no mercy for those who tried to harm him. He hadn't planned to confront anyone—he'd just wanted to gather supplies and leave. But now that the enemy was coming for them, he wouldn't just sit and wait. Besides, he didn't have time to waste.
With that in mind, Brian turned toward the southeast of Peachtree City. He'd noticed on the map that there were two gas stations in that direction…
—Grrr… grrr…
Inside a gas station, several Runners wandered aimlessly, their expressions blank. Perhaps because they'd been in the shade too long, whenever they approached a sunlit area, they instinctively turned back.
Behind the low wall surrounding the gas station, Brian peeked over, observing the number of infected and their movement patterns.
Then, seizing the right moment, he slowly drew his knife and moved forward—fast and silent. Before one Runner could turn, he ducked behind a fuel pump.
—One… two… three…
Crouched beside the pump, he counted silently. At five, his left hand shot out, grabbing a Runner passing by. Before it could react, he snapped its neck and gently laid the body on the ground.
After setting the body down, he rolled forward to the side of another fuel pump. As he stood, he stepped out—just as another Runner turned its back to him. Brian drove his knife through its skull.
With two Runners down, the pressure eased. Using the pumps as cover, Brian silently eliminated the remaining infected. Only when he was sure he hadn't alerted any others did he finally exhale in relief.
He was now at the edge of the red zone Norman had marked—where infected were more numerous. Not overwhelming, but still significant.
Earlier, Brian had checked another gas station, but the number of infected was so high he immediately turned back. That's why he'd run to this one—fewer threats.
He scanned the ground. A meter away, he found a manhole cover. With effort, he pried it open, revealing a circular metal plate with a green pipe and a red valve in the center—the connection to the underground fuel tank.
Kneeling, he pulled out a screwdriver and skillfully removed the screws around the red valve, then detached it completely, exposing the opening beneath.
Once done, he reached into his backpack and pulled out a long plastic hose—several meters in length. The top had a small spigot, the bottom a hand-cranked pump. It was a manual fuel siphon he'd specially requested Lulu to make for him back in the quarantine zone.
He fed most of the hose into the hole, then began turning the crank. After a few moments, a dark shadow began rising through the tube.
Once he confirmed fuel was flowing, Brian entered the gas station's convenience store. The shelves were long empty.
He went to the back, found two overturned white plastic fuel cans, righted them, and quickly carried them outside.
Fifteen minutes later.
Brian walked away from the gas station, carrying two full fuel cans. The number of infected in the area was still high. He decided to find a safer spot to begin crafting his weapons.
But as he moved along the street, heading back toward the main road, he suddenly heard soft, shuffling footsteps behind him. The sound was faint, but he detected it instantly.
Brian froze—but didn't turn around. Pretending ignorance, he kept walking forward.
Hearing the footsteps still following him, his eyes sharpened. He slowed his pace, scanning the surrounding buildings, searching for good spots to fight or hide.
If they were going to confront the local survivor group tonight, Brian didn't want any surprises. Any problem… better to deal with it now.