"What's going on?"
The exclamation from a soldier in the AA squad startled Rick. He rushed to the door and, as he asked the question, spotted five people standing at the far end of the hallway.
All of them wore military uniforms, holding rifles in their hands, and aiming at a group of people who were also pointing back at them without hesitation.
The hallway lighting was too dim, but the tactical flashlights mounted on their weapons lit up the faces of the men. Seeing that they were soldiers, Rick frowned and raised his weapon toward them. He spoke slowly and clearly so that everyone could understand him.
"Listen up! If I were you, I'd lower my weapons right now before things get really ugly."
Among the five strangers, a short man stepped forward. Rick assumed he was the leader, but before he had to repeat the warning, all of them lowered their guns.
"What unit are you from?"
Rick didn't answer. He signaled to the people behind him and walked up to the door. The soldiers looked at each other and immediately understood, slowly backing away without lowering their weapons from the newcomers.
Only then did Rick speak again, addressing the leader.
"Put your weapons on the ground, and then we'll talk."
To everyone's surprise, the man gestured with his hands, and the others obeyed, placing their weapons on the floor and raising their hands to show they weren't hostile.
Rick stepped back cautiously, nodded toward the weapons, and said:
"Alright. Let's have a civilized conversation."
Under Rick's group's watchful eyes, the five entered the cafeteria. Finally, everyone got a good look at their faces. The leader of the strangers was a very thin man, about thirty years old. Half his body was covered in a thick beard, but his large eyes caught Rick's attention. There were two Black men and three white men; all seemed a bit tense about the situation.
"Alright, don't make any sudden moves. I'm going to ask you a few questions, and you—the one in front—will answer all of them. I don't want any misunderstandings. Got it?"
"Of course we do!" the short man replied enthusiastically.
Rick gave a signal to his team. Two members approached and positioned themselves behind the newcomers, who cooperatively showed their empty hands. After searching them, one of the soldiers shook his head.
"Captain, they're unarmed."
Rick nodded and addressed the man who had spoken.
"Tell me your name."
The man was quick to respond:
"I'm Derek, leader of this squad that survived here."
Then he pointed to the men on his right.
"This one that looks like a mutt is Lauter, and the guy next to him is Liam."
Then he gestured to the two Black men on his left.
"That's Colton, and the one with him is Peter."
After the introductions, Derek continued explaining:
"We're part of the National Guard stationed here. When the virus outbreak began, we had just arrived at this military base. After the long trip, we were resting in the dorms. That night, we heard heavy gunfire coming from the security post at the entrance…"
As he spoke, Derek looked around, still nervous.
"We grabbed our weapons intending to help, but as soon as we left the dorms, we saw infected sprinting and attacking our comrades. We couldn't do anything; all the exits were blocked."
"But these walkers were different—much faster than what the reports described. The virus spread through the body in seconds. A single bite and you'd turn. They had red eyes… they were terrifying. I thought we were going to die any moment."
"So, with the little time we had, I moved the food from the small storage to the cafeteria. It was safer there. But eventually the infected reached this place, and we ran out of supplies."
Rick glanced at the scattered military rations in the back kitchen and understood how they'd ended up there, though Derek wasn't done talking yet.
"It all happened too fast. While we were moving the supplies, the infected broke into the cafeteria. There were a dozen of us, but in the end only five survived. We made it through a year with what we had, but the food ran out too. If you'd arrived a week later, we'd probably be dead by now. We're grateful you saved our lives."
Rick studied them carefully. Derek's story seemed reasonable, but something about it still didn't sit right with him. He felt they weren't telling the whole truth.
"My people are sweeping the base. We've got time. Take us to your dorm."
Rick wanted to inspect the area for himself.
"Alright. Follow us…"
As they walked down the hallway, Rick picked up the weapons they had dropped earlier. He discovered they were all empty. These guys had dared to face them with unloaded weapons.
Noticing Rick's reaction, Derek smirked ironically.
"We never made it to the armory. Ammo's been gone for a while. If we had bullets, we wouldn't have been stuck here. Those damn monsters have surrounded the dorm entrance this whole time. We sealed all the windows—if not, we'd be dead."
When they reached the dorm area, the stench was so strong that Rick's group immediately noticed it was worse than in the cafeteria.
Rick and his team checked every room. As Derek had said, they didn't find any weapons.
Rick didn't leave a single corner unchecked. At the end of the hallway, he found a closed door. As he leaned in, he heard the unmistakable sounds of walkers, and a foul, rotten stench wafted through the cracks.
He turned toward Derek, visibly irritated.
"Are those runners?"
Derek lowered his head, shrugged, and replied sadly:
"They're our comrades… Didn't I say we were over a dozen? That's where the bitten ones are. Some… couldn't take it and ended their own lives. We wanted to kill them before they turned, but we couldn't. So we locked them in there."
The group of five seemed genuinely upset. Some even covered their faces and began to cry. Lauter comforted one of his comrades, and soon the hallway was filled with a melancholic atmosphere.
Derek sighed, pitying them, but also encouraged them:
"These days, being alive is already a blessing. Don't give up. If you want, you can join us."
Derek took a deep breath, seemed to calm himself, then said:
"No need. Now that we're free, we want to look for our families. Could you spare us some weapons?"
Rick studied them carefully. He didn't detect anything suspicious. Maybe they had truly been trapped here.
He stepped back a few paces and whispered to his men:
"What do you think?"
Daniel hesitated but said:
"I think their story adds up. What we've seen supports it."
Jim added, a bit unsure:
"Maybe I'm overthinking it… but I feel like something's off about these guys."
Rick remained silent. He looked up at the sky through a window. It was still early. Outside, his people were still clearing the base. Once Jason contacted him, things would become clearer. He finally voiced his thoughts.
"Whatever the truth is, I'm not taking them back to the base. We'll set up an outpost here to receive refugees and supplies."
Rick still had doubts about them, but he couldn't execute them without proof. After careful thought, he had made his decision.