Runner-class walkers are a real problem. There's no logical explanation for their terrifying speed, considering they're rotting corpses. How is it possible that they can run so fast if their bodies are dead?
There's no doubt it could be a variation of the Wildfire virus—one where the infected differ from the original strain's undead, turning them into runners.
The special suits worn by Jason's soldiers saved their lives. Otherwise, several of them might have died. Fortunately, that wasn't the case, which gave Jason a great deal of relief.
Clang!
When the iron door of a warehouse opened, several soldiers lit up the interior. There were no more infected; most of them had been lured away by the helicopters and eliminated by the soldiers themselves.
The doors of many armored vehicles opened, and several people began loading crates of ammunition and weapons in batches to be transported to a C5 aircraft. There were about four C5-class planes at this base, but half of them needed maintenance, which was currently being performed by the soldiers themselves.
In addition to that, there were more advanced tanks, armored vehicles, trucks, cargo helicopters, and also HH-60s that could be transported by the C5s to the base Jason's people had taken.
In a room where some soldiers sat silently…
The bright light of a spotlight illuminated a room that had previously been in darkness. A thin old man held a nutrition bar and a bottle of clean water. In front of him, several men sat watching him.
Jason wore a serious expression; his words were direct, and he only wanted to hear what truly mattered:
"I'm the commander of the S.C.T. community. You see, I need the tanks, armored vehicles, weapons, ammo, and planes at this location. I know there are pilots here who could be incredibly useful to me, so I'll now explain what happened to the world and where we are in the story."
Ben Miller, who held the highest rank among the remaining soldiers at the base, looked at Jason and realized this man had managed to reorganize an entire branch of the military. This equipment, helicopters, and gear could only be handled by experienced people—and only soldiers were trained to do that.
"The undead are evolving. We've already seen the variants, and those bastards aren't the ones who took everything from us, Mr. Ben Miller. That in mind, we have to protect one another."
When Jason finished speaking, Morgan stepped forward with some photographs and placed them on the table:
"The world was consumed by the dead. But there are still living people fighting every day to survive. What do you think?"
Ben Miller let out a weary sigh and said:
"There's no world left to go back to. It's incredible that a damn virus—and not a third world war—was what brought it all down. We've seen those infected runners… Believe me, I'm very impressed with your team and how you dealt with them."
Jason nodded appreciatively and responded:
"It's been a lot of work. I can't take all the credit for what we've achieved as a community, but if I hadn't gathered the right people at the right time, I doubt we'd have made it this far. But that's not the question I asked you. Do you want to join my people, return to Atlanta, and become part of my army?"
Jason's actions exceeded everyone's expectations. Before they could fully react, they understood they had few choices.
"Tell me, were you really part of the military before all this?" Ben Miller asked directly.
"Does that matter, old man?" Daryl interrupted with a raspy voice.
"No, not at all. What matters is that my people and I are completely willing to join you and fight for a better world—against the living and the dead."
Jason didn't think the old man's words were entirely sincere, so he pressed further: "I need your people—especially the pilots—to inspect the C5 planes. I need them operational so we can move the resources from this place to a safe base."
After saying that, Jason pulled out a map and laid it on the table. "The bases and people in my community are growing by the day, so we need to open more locations and rely on different transportation methods."
At that moment, Eric, who had remained silent in the back, had also been listening to the conversation. He quickly approached Ben and asked, confused:
"Is everything really over? How can we trust them so easily?"
"Eric, now's not the time for that conversation…" Ben replied, uncomfortable.
But another soldier, named Todd, shook his head and said: "No, sir. Eric's right. We don't really know what's going on out there, and we have the right to learn everything that's happening outside."
"If you weren't trustworthy, we would've shot you a long time ago. We're not here for you—we're here for the resources." Jason looked at them firmly and added, "I protect my people like they're all I've got left in this world. Unvetted people like you pose a constant risk—but I'm willing to take that risk."
"You've spent a long time in this base. You don't know what the world's become—especially the people… especially the hungry ones. I know you all have doubts. You must be worried about your families, and I understand that. I'd feel the same way."
Daryl stepped forward and added, "There are thousands of people in our group. Once you get to our community, you might even find family or friends—like many others already have."
"Then… as a pilot, I'll do whatever you say, sir."
"Yeah, me too."
"Shouldn't we think this through a little more?"
"What the hell is there to consider?"
Hearing the soldiers' discussion, Jason looked around, realizing there were massive amounts of resources at this site that would take time to move to the base Rick was clearing out.
The people at this base were scared—which was completely normal. But within his range of perception, Jason detected no hidden threat: no one seemed willing to do something stupid.
Even so, he knew he couldn't underestimate anyone or put his people in danger. That's why he decided to send the survivors from this place out in groups to a safe zone.
"I need help from all civilians and soldiers to gather the materials and resources from this place and transport them to Atlanta. I don't have enough manpower to keep troops stationed here—not even Atlanta is fully secured yet."
"All right. We've got a lot at this base—including some more sophisticated vehicles, like anti-aircraft missile systems, defenses… even a drone that wasn't relocated to another facility."
Jason nodded, hiding his surprise, and said, "Then we need to get organized and start labeling the resources for transport. The most important thing is to check the condition of the C5s and make sure they're airworthy."
Just as Jason was speaking, a radio sounded inside the room, and suddenly a voice came through the speaker:
"Zz… Echo, distress message. A massive horde is heading for our base. We need an extraction operation. All our C5s are down, and the helicopters have become hard to maintain. If you're hearing this and your situation is stable—we need your help."
"I think we're gonna need an explanation for that…" Daryl said, staring intently at Ben Miller.