When Alan stepped away from where he had just given a motivational speech, Talia, who had been beside him, immediately asked, "Are you happy manipulating all those people?"
"They'll survive—at best." Alan checked the time, knowing that in just a few hours the sun would begin to set. They had spent many hours in this place maintaining the retreat orders.
"Survive? As far as I know, all of us will be dead sooner or later. Don't tell me... are you really that afraid of death?" Talia seemed to have a problem with Alan's methods, and she was making it perfectly clear.
When she said this, it was as if a switch flipped inside Alan. Without warning, he grabbed the doctor by the collar. "You have no idea, Doctor. If I hadn't made that promise to my brother, I'd have a bullet in my forehead right now. And maybe many of you would die under the orders of a leader influenced by FEDRA, one who would lead you down a path with no future."
"Everyone needs me. They need my knowledge to settle down and to aim for rebuilding everything that will be lost in the coming months. I may not look special, I may seem cruel for letting people go or killing those who become a problem—but let me make something very clear to you: you wouldn't sacrifice even half of what I've already given up."
Riya, watching Alan in that state, wanted to intervene, but she knew that any wrong move could fully awaken the man so many soldiers feared.
"Stop, Alan. Don't lose control."
"The reason you can't even argue with me is because of how cold I am. But this—this will be necessary in a few years if I want to keep standing on this earth." Alan no longer knew what to say.
He had made a promise—to live for someone else and to do what was right to save humanity. He felt manipulated by it, and even a little hypocritical for now saying he didn't want to keep living and see how far he could go.
"I made a promise. I'll make sure the smart ones survive, and those who aren't will have to fend for themselves. If they become a problem, then I'll eliminate them. I won't allow any of that to interfere with my vision for the future." Alan released Talia, who remained silent.
She was filled with frustration. Her patients were dying one after another due to lack of medication, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. What angered her most was that the man who had sworn to protect everyone was now leaving them behind.
"There is no future…"
"We'll make sure one exists. But if we start judging the methods of someone who just wants to see a new dawn, then we'll never move forward," said Riya, who knew that someone like Alan was the answer.
General Shelton, who had died that morning, had placed his trust in him.
John, watching Alan, quickly understood everything.
His years of experience reading people told him that Alan likely suffered from personality disorders—his hand didn't tremble when killing, and pain seemed to be his way of staying sane.
After killing so many infected, burning their bodies, giving orders that cost many lives, and carrying the burden of those lives on his shoulders—whether he believed it or not—had created a mental weight that was nearly impossible to bear.
Alan was at his limit now. If he kept going this way, he would soon lose himself and never again be the calm man he had worked so hard to become.
Having lost his entire family, Alan had been pretending for so long that he was on the verge of forgetting who he wanted to be—whether he was living for himself or for someone else.
"There's no cure, not even in those documents... And it's highly likely that other cities have different infected variants." Alan seemed to regain control of his emotions and sighed heavily as he channeled the rage in his heart.
He had let go of his self-hatred. He had no enemies, nor did he plan to make any. Anyone who got in his way would simply be an obstacle. He'd reserve the word "enemy" for himself—for being the way he was.
He wasn't a hero. He wouldn't beg to save lives. He would simply focus on saving those who wanted to join him on this survival journey. In the end, even he could die overnight. No one could know what the future held.
"Doctor, make an updated list of the patients who will recover and those who won't. As my father once said, love is also about letting go—and we won't be so cruel as to torture people who are tired of surviving," Alan said, holding his head.
It had been John who recommended this, and as painful as it was, it was true. Alan had made the best decisions for survival, even if they were cruel. Many people weren't ready to survive on their own.
That's why the most insensitive people were the ones who survived.
"What will we do with the rest?" Talia had also regained control of her emotions.
Alan looked at her and said, "You know the answer. In the end, that's better than continuing to live. Please help me, and I promise I'll do everything I can to keep my word."
"You'll have the list by nightfall…" Talia murmured, knowing she was about to write the death sheet.
John said nothing, but when he saw the doctor leave, he turned to Alan and said, "I can do it."
"The one who gives the death sentence must carry it out. I won't give you that burden," Alan replied, refusing Daniel's help.
John sighed. For some reason, when he looked at Alan, he felt like he was looking at a possible son. In a softer tone, he said, "If you want my help, then let me share that burden with you. Are you going to refuse that?"
"I just need…"
"Rest. Your plans have saved more lives than would've survived otherwise. My family is alive thanks to your advice. I'm so stubborn that it would've been my greatest mistake—and my daughter would probably be shattered." John owed the life of his wife to Alan, who had insisted he bring her to this place.
But at that moment, Alan's radio buzzed to life:
"Zz… We've got a major problem."
"Zz… A massive horde of infected was alerted by a series of explosions, and a truck just crashed into the base entrance. The driver lured all the infected right to our gates."
"Zz… Open fire!"
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Boom!
Alan checked the time. It was almost nightfall, and being attacked by infected now would be their death sentence.
"How many are there?"
"Zz… Logistics estimates at least a million infected."
Alan then looked at Riya and said, "Get everyone to the rooftop. Prioritize those who are strongest."
"What about you?" Riya looked him directly in the eye.
"I'll buy you time."