Morning came, the sunlight rising through the trees. Andrew was the first to wake, a habit from his time deployed . He looked around — everyone else was still asleep, scattered in their makeshift beds.
Then, faint voices from below caught his attention.
Carefully, Andrew rose and crept to the edge of the rooftop, keeping low to avoid being seen. Peering over, he spotted a group of seven men with two civilian vehicles nearby . They were rummaging around the trucks and the Humvee, with the supplies that were left in the trucks already laid out beside one of their cars. Andrew's frown deepened seeing that they were armed — most carried pistols, though one man held a shotgun.
Without hesitation, he quickly backed away from the edge and checked his MP5. The magazine was barely half full. Swapping it out for a fresh one, he moved quietly between the sleeping people , gently waking them and explaining the situation in a low, firm voice.
Andrew managed to keep everyone calm, raising a hand to stop the murmuring before it turned to panic. "Stay quiet," he told them in a low, steady voice. "Everything's going to be okay."
He then motioned for all the soldiers to gather around. Speaking in a whisper, he explained, "There's a group of seven people down there. Armed. Could be raiders. They've taken the supplies that were left in the trucks — and we can't let them leave with them. We need those if we don't want to start scavenging for scraps."
The soldiers stiffened, sleep fading from their eyes as the seriousness of the situation settled over them.
Andrew quickly laid out a plan. "Two stay up here. Four go around the left side of the building. The remaining three, with me, we'll go around the right. We'll surround them. The Objective is to get our supplies back and force them into leaving the area ."
Someone asked quietly, "And if they refuse?"
Andrew gave a cold glance. "Then watch where you aim. And try not putting to many holes in the trucks."
There were a few tense looks exchanged between the soldiers and even the civilians that heard his plan . No one argued.
"Alright, let's move."
They carefully descended from the roof, keeping low to avoid being seen. Sticking close to the building's walls, they split into their assigned groups. Weapons ready, safeties off . Andrew moved with his squad on the right .
Reaching the corner to the front of the building, Andrew raised his fist, motioning for everyone to stop — and they did. He carefully peeked around the corner, now getting a better look at the looters.
The seven men carried themselves with confidence, even arrogance, moving around the vehicles like they owned them . Most of them wore pistols on their hips, one casually resting a shotgun over his shoulder. There was no sign of worry in their movements . The man with the shotgun, likely the leader, was tall, clean-shaven, with sharp features and a cocky smirk as he gave orders. Another leaned lazily against one of their cars, watching the others sort through the supplies like a man on a casual afternoon . They looked like the kind of people who saw the fall of order as an opportunity , doing and taking whatever they wanted simply because no one was left to stop them.
Seeing that they couldn't take the trucks or the Humvee, the looters intended to load the supplies into their cars, and leave. Andrew didn't want to waste time. He gave a sharp hand signal, motioning for the others to follow. Moving low and quick, he rounded the corner with the three soldiers close behind, weapons raised.
Out of the seven looters, three still had their backs turned when Andrew's group emerged. Only the leader and three others managed to react in time, raising their weapons in a tense standoff.
"Hold it. Drop your weapons. Now." Andrew ordered.
The leader expression hardening as he seen them and their weapons raised. He glanced at his men, and the other three who had just turned and quickly raised their guns as well. A smug grin tugged at the leader's mouth now .
"Funny… I was about to say the same thing. Looks to me like you're outnumbered, soldier. Might be smarter if you dropped yours."
Andrew's expression didn't waver. He gave a subtle nod toward the side of the building. The leader's eyes flicked in that direction — spotting the second squad having taken cover behind an abandoned car and the building , weapons leveled. Then his gaze shifted upward to see the two soldiers perched on the rooftop, covering them from above. The smirk faded from his face.
"You were saying?" Andrew replied .
The leader licked his lips, eyes darting between the soldiers. Still aiming his weapon, not liking how the situation turned against them.
"We didn't know this belonged to anyone. Thought it was abandoned."
Andrew raised a brow, unimpressed.
"Yeah, sure you did. You're leaving. Now. But the supplies stay."
The leader scowled, clearly weighing his options — none of them good. After a tense moment, he finally barked a sharp order to his men.
"Get in the cars."
The looters didn't look happy, but they obeyed, slowly walking toward their vehicles, never lowering their weapons until they reached the doors. The stand-off held until engines started and the two cars peeled out of the lot, leaving the supplies behind.
One of the soldiers let out a quiet breath. Andrew kept his gaze on the retreating vehicles a moment longer before sighing and lowering his weapon .
With the situation resolved, all the soldiers gathered around the vehicles in front of Andrew.
"Alright, everyone — we have to move. Looks like the dead aren't the only thing we need to worry about out here," Andrew said, his tone serious.
A young soldier, with his hair short-cropped, asked .
"Sir… you think they'll try something ?"
Another soldier, a little older and calmer, added grimly,
"To me, it seemed like they were enjoying themselves — like none of what is happening even bothers them."
" There are always those who enjoy the chaos and take advantage of it," another soldier said darkly.
Andrew gave a short nod.
"We have no way of knowing if they'll try something, or if there are more like them out there. So stay alert." He took a breath before continuing.
"First, we eat. No one can react properly on an empty stomach. After we gather what we need, we move out."
He turned toward the gathered group of civilians.
"I need volunteers to help prepare food for everyone. Once we've eaten, we're leaving."
Several people raised their hands, even a couple of the children offering to help. Others suggested that they could collect the sleeping bags and blankets from the rooftop.
Andrew nodded in approval.
" As for the rest of you — you'll help me check the store for anything we can use." he addressed those remained without a task .
Then he turned to Corporal Whitaker.
"Until the food's ready, I want three pairs of two, patrolling the outer perimeter of the truck stop. Stay sharp. If anything happens, I don't want us getting caught off guard. The remaining three are to stay close to the vehicles."
Whitaker nodded and gave him a quick salute.
"Yes, sir." She turned to the soldiers, starting to organize the patrol teams.
============================
The two cars sped away from the truck stop, engines growling.
"What the hell was that? Where did those bastards came from? I thought we checked the place !" one of the raiders snapped from the passenger seat .
"I saw two of 'em on the roof — that's where they must've been hiding," another grumbled from the backseat.
"Jesus, you thought trucks loaded with supplies, a humvee, and a couple of dead bitters meant the place was abandoned? You dumb bastard," a third raider barked. "Maybe if you'd bothered to actually check the place, we wouldn't be haulin' ass right now."
"Hey, who the fuck you callin' stupid?" the first raider shot back, his voice sharp with anger.
"You, dumbass," the third sneered. "You half-assed it, and now we're empty-handed."
The first raider was about to lunge over the seat when the leader snapped.
"Enough! Both of you shut the hell up before I put a hole in both your chests and leave your corpses for the crows."
The car went quiet. The two men sank back into their seats without another word.
"Good." The leader fished a phone out of his pocket, punched in a number, and tossed it to the raider beside him .
"Put it on speaker."
After few moments of the phone calling , someone answered.
"Yo, Mike — you see anyone tailin' us?"
A pause crackled over the line before a voice came back.
"No, boss. Nothin' behind us."
"Good."
Another voice came over the phone.
"So, uh… what now, boss? Kinda feel like we just ran with our tails between our legs."
The leader's voice dropped, a dangerous edge in it.
"We didn't run. We played it smart. And if you had half a brain, you'd've noticed the luggage that were with the supplies back there — means there's more than just the soldiers ."
He smirked.
"And to answer your question — we're headin' back to base to round up the rest. Get some more firepower."
"Won't they be gone by then?" someone else asked.
The boss laughed, a dark, eager sound.
"Maybe. But half the fun's the hunt. So quit your bitchin' and get ready — we've got work to do."
The car filled with cruel laughter and jeering.
============================
Back at the truck stop, food was being prepared thanks to a portable propane stove they'd managed to find, along with a metal pots , plates , bowls , and utensils. They also came across a set of repair tools that will be essential for the vehicles and four empty fuel canisters, which they filled up from the pumps alongside the vehicles to be ready for the road ahead.
Around the perimeter, soldiers maintained patrols, remaining sharp and watchful in case any of the thugs or stray walkers returned. Meanwhile, Andrew and several civilians worked to load the remaining supplies into the trucks, adding a few more items they'd salvaged from what was still intact inside the store. The filled fuel canisters were secured in the back of the Humvee, ensuring they'd have reserves when they set out.
When the food was ready, people began to gather around. The patrols were recalled after ensuring there was no immediate danger nearby. From what little they had, the volunteers tasked with cooking managed to put together some potato hash using , potatoes with canned meat and vegetables along side boiled rice, seasoned with the few condiments they'd found — salt, pepper, and a little paprika. Anything that had been pre-cooked or easy to prepare seemed to have already been taken or eaten by the group of raiders earlier.
To make sure there was enough for everyone, each person received a modest portion of both, either on a plate or in a bowl — whatever was available. When Andrew approached, he got in line like everyone else. Though some people insisted he go ahead, he simply shook his head and said, "There's enough for everyone. I can wait in line like everyone else."
This small act surprised a few, though no one commented. In truth, Andrew had a reason for it. He knew that in the difficult days ahead, choices would have to be made — some that people might not like or understand. If he was going to lead them through it, he needed their trust. Not blind obedience born of fear, but real trust that came from shared hardship and mutual respect. And that trust began with small, simple things like standing in line for a meal.
...
With everyone having received their portion, people scattered around but kept close to the vehicles , finding places to sit and eat. The tense atmosphere from earlier had eased somewhat, replaced by the simple, grounding act of sharing a hot meal. The three soldiers who had come with them from the compound sat together with their families, quietly eating and speaking in low voices. The squad of six they'd picked up along the way clustered nearby, eating while exchanging hushed conversation, occasionally letting out a short chuckle or a tired sigh , weapons keep at their sides .
The remaining students and teachers sat in small groups, grateful for the food. Some scrolled through their phones, trying to reach family or friends — a few managing brief connections, while others only faced silence or failed calls. Andrew noticed one of the students quietly charging her phone with one of the early-model power bank, her gaze flickering to the screen in hope as she waited for a message or call to come through.
Elsewhere, the rest of civilians sat in subdued silence, the memory of the morning's encounter with the armed group still weighing on them. Only the children seemed untouched by the gravity of it all. A small group of them laughed softly as they shared bits of food, comparing who got the biggest potato chunk or pretending the rice was some kind of treasure. Their innocent joy, though faint, was a fragile reminder of the world that used to be — and of what might still be worth protecting.
Andrew sat nearby on an overturned plastic crate — the kind once used to transport beer bottles — eating his portion in silence. His gaze drifted across the people around him, the group he had, by circumstance and necessity, become the leader of. Families huddled together, soldiers sharing quiet conversation, students clustered in groups.
As he ate, his thoughts turned to the question that weighed heavier with each passing hour: where do we go now? They needed to find a secure place — somewhere defensible, somewhere with supplies, where they could catch their breath and figure out what came next.
He pulled out his phone and checked for any usable information online. The network still functioned , but all he found was chaos — news of cities falling, governments collapsing, and the infection spreading everywhere , soldiers killing people on sight . No guidance, no safe haven. With a resigned sigh, Andrew turned off the device, saving what little power remained for when he might needed.
Once everyone had eaten and what little mess remained was cleaned , Andrew gathered the group together. Standing beside the Humvee, he addressed them plainly.
"We need to decide our next move. We can't stay here, and wandering without a plan isn't an option. If any of you has a suggestion , you are more than welcome to share it ."
One of the soldiers, a young corporal with a weary but steady voice, stepped forward. "Sir, I say we head for Fort Benning. They've got defenses, weapons, supplies . If there's any organized shelter left, it'll be there."
Another soldier spoke up, hesitating for a moment before continuing. "Before we head out… some of us would like to check on our families. They're not far — just a little ways out of the city."
Andrew considered this. In the show's version of events, Fort Benning had been mentioned but never reached — a mystery whether it still stood or fell. In this world, though, he had no way to be certain of anything. Still, without a better alternative, it made sense. And leaving people's families behind, if there was a chance they were still alive, would only sow division in the group.
He gave a nod. "Alright. We'll check on your families first. We do it quickly . Then we head for Fort Benning. If it's operational, it might be the best shot we've got."
A few exchanged hopeful glances; others tightened their grips on their weapons .
With that, people climbed into the vehicles, engines turning on one by one , then the convoy left the parking lot , leaving the truck stop behind.