"Bring him up!"
Brian looked at the four survivors kneeling before him, still trembling from the execution he had just carried out in front of them. He gave a slight wave to Elton beside him.
Elton nodded, turned, and walked toward a dark corner. From the shadows, he dragged out a man and slammed him hard onto the ground.
—Ugh!
The impact was brutal. The man groaned in pain, but something was stuffed in his mouth—only muffled sounds escaped.
The four prisoners stared at the figure on the ground. It was a woman—hands bound behind her back, mouth gagged, her body covered in blood and deep wounds. Her clothes were torn, her face swollen and bruised. It was Cindy, the spy they had sent into Brian's group.
Brian wiped the coldness from his face and smiled warmly, as if nothing had happened.
—This woman has already told me a lot— he said, nodding toward Cindy—. But I don't trust a single source. I need you to confirm what she says.
He leaned forward slightly, repeating the question gently:
—Where is your camp? How many of you are there? What's the situation now?
—I… I'll tell you…
All four trembled under his gaze. The woman with glasses, on the verge of collapse, finally broke. She spoke in a shaky voice, revealing everything.
They weren't actually from Peachtree City. Just a group of wandering survivors—exactly like the group led by Andrea that Brian had met earlier.
Two years ago, they'd arrived in the city. Tired of wandering, they decided to settle. They picked a spot, built a camp, and survived by scavenging supplies.
At first, they had no intention of harming others. In fact, they often helped passing survivors. Some thanked them and left. Others chose to stay.
But times were harsh. As their numbers grew, food became scarce. Many areas were overrun with infected, so they couldn't go there. Some days, they didn't eat at all.
Then, some began to look at other survivors differently.
They noticed something: the travelers carried rich supplies… but were few in number.
One night, starving and desperate, they attacked a small survivor group they had once helped. The travelers never expected betrayal. They were slaughtered without defense. And the group gained food, weapons—everything.
The food ran out. But the taste of success didn't.
From then on, while exploring the city, they began attacking every survivor they found.
At first, they lacked weapons. So they pretended to be kind, inviting travelers to rest at their camp. Most refused, but a few accepted.
Though some members felt guilt, for survival, they stayed silent. They accepted this new path.
Once inside the camp, they attacked without mercy, killing everyone and taking their weapons.
With more weapons, they no longer needed deception. They dropped the act. They launched direct ambushes. The camp grew richer.
Maybe fate favored them. During one attack, they found food seeds. For the first time, they could produce food.
They moved camps. Chose a nearby golf course. Under the guidance of those with farming experience, they prepared the land and planted the seeds.
Heaven smiled again. Months later, green sprouts emerged. Famine was ending. And they found a usable boat and full fishing gear. They could fish in the lake. The food pressure eased.
By then, they no longer needed to kill for food. With crops and fish, they could live comfortably in this post-apocalyptic world.
But human greed has no limits. Even without food worries, killing had become a habit. They never thought of going back.
Of course, some couldn't accept this. They said senseless killing was unnecessary.
After repeated attempts to reason, seeing no change, they fled one night. They took food, seeds, and the few vehicles they had—and vanished.
Now, the camp only had 87 people.
The 20+ who had come tonight were nearly a third of their force. They carried most of the weapons. Now, only guards, elders, women, and children remained.
Brian raised an eyebrow. Their story matched what Andrea had told him that morning.
Two survivor camps. Both started with kindness. But under survival pressure, their moral chains broke. Both followed nearly identical paths.
How many more like this were out there?
Was this the norm, not the exception?
—Then… what is Lane Creek Natural Area?
Why did that man want me to go there?
He glanced at the dead Black man, then back at the woman with glasses.
—I… I don't know— she stammered, waving her hands—. I'm not a fighter. I stay in the camp. I came only to count the loot after the battle. I… I don't know much.
—…
Brian frowned. Not satisfied. He turned to the other three.
—I… I know!
The thin young man, drenched in sweat, spoke before the others could. He knew if he didn't talk now, he wouldn't survive.
—Lane Creek Natural Area is full of dead infected. The air is saturated with Cordyceps spores. The fungi hide deep in the forest. If you enter without knowing… you inhale the spores. And when you realize… it's too late.
—One of our teams went in once, hunting animals for food. They inhaled the spores. By morning, they were all infected. So we avoid that area.
Brian didn't change expression. He'd expected it. If they wanted to lure them there, it had to be a death trap.
But before he could ask, the young man added, fearing the worst:
—But the camp has no traps! You can walk right in—no danger!
—Oh?
Brian was surprised.
—How do you know?
—I'm in charge of medicine and weapons. Like her, I came to count the loot. The others clear the outside and protect us.
The young man gave a bitter smile, revealing their roles.
—We used to have traps. But since we attack every outsider, fewer come. Plus, the camp wall is high. Infected can't get in. They said traps weren't needed anymore. So… they were abandoned.
—Clap, clap, clap.
—Excellent. Thank you for your cooperation.
Brian smiled, satisfied. Then, still smiling, he raised his pistol.
—Bang! Bang!
Two shots. The bearded man and the short-haired woman dropped, dead instantly.
Then he turned the gun toward Cindy, still on the ground, and shot her in the head.
All in seconds. Three more bodies on the ground.
Not out of cruelty. Brian had noticed these two weren't cooperating. Heads down, resisting. Better to eliminate them. He didn't want problems later.
And Cindy… she was already broken. Injured, useless. Saving her would cost medicine, food, manpower. A burden. Better to finish her too.
—Aaah!
The young man screamed, stumbling back. The woman with glasses wet herself, trembling.
—Heh heh.
Brian chuckled softly, holstering his pistol.
—Don't be afraid. I only removed those who wouldn't cooperate. I keep my word. I won't harm you.