Chapter 105: Michonne Joins
Deep within the prison's solitary confinement block, a small observation window in the iron door remained open, allowing the sterile white glow of the corridor's fluorescent lights to spill into the cell.
Michonne lay on the narrow bed with her hands behind her head, staring at a crack running across the ceiling.
The metal bedframe was hard.
The pillow was thin.
The blanket smelled faintly of disinfectant.
Yet when she closed her eyes, she felt something she hadn't experienced in a long time.
Safety.
Four walls.
A locked iron door.
A small observation window.
No walkers would emerge from the darkness.
No desperate survivor would try to steal her weapon while she slept.
Although, to be fair, they had already confiscated her katana, so there wasn't much left to worry about.
She rolled over, buried her face in the blanket, and fell asleep within seconds.
The next morning, the observation slot slid open.
A hand reached inside and placed a breakfast tray on the floor.
A piece of bread.
A bowl of porridge.
A paper cup filled with water.
Michonne sat up and picked up the cup.
The side was printed with the Umbrella Corporation logo—a red-and-white umbrella that had obviously been stamped onto the cup after production.
She took a sip.
Cold.
Clean.
No chemical aftertaste.
The bread was from the previous day, but it was still soft enough to tear apart easily.
On the morning of the fourth day, the prison cell door finally opened.
A guard in a black uniform stood outside holding a folder.
"Come with me."
Michonne rose without complaint and followed him down the corridor.
They passed rows of empty cells and several security doors that required key cards to unlock before finally entering an interrogation room.
White walls.
A white table.
Two chairs.
Rick sat on one side of the table with several documents spread before him.
A pen rested in his hand.
"Sit."
Michonne sat down across from him.
Rick studied her for a moment before glancing at her empty hands.
"You were lurking around the Prison for several days. Who sent you?"
Michonne shook her head.
"No one. I'm alone."
Rick leaned back in his chair and casually spun the pen between his fingers.
"Do you know what this place is?"
"An Umbrella Corporation transit station."
Her voice remained calm.
"I met one of your convoys on the highway. They said I could join and directed me to either the Prison or the CDC. I wanted to see things for myself before making a decision."
Rick raised an eyebrow.
"The convoy led by Sean?"
"I think so."
After a brief pause, she nodded.
Rick set down his pen.
"So what's your decision?"
Michonne met his gaze directly.
"I'll join."
Rick stood and extended his hand.
"Then welcome to the group."
Michonne rose as well but ignored the offered handshake.
Instead, she asked a single question.
"Where's my sword?"
Rick chuckled and lowered his hand.
"You can retrieve it from the armory."
Without another word, Michonne turned toward the door.
Just before leaving, she glanced back.
Rick had already returned to his paperwork, the scratching of his pen filling the room.
Then she walked away.
The corridor outside was brightly lit.
Her shadow stretched across the floor as she followed another guard toward the armory.
After confirming her identity, the quartermaster allowed her inside.
Michonne immediately spotted her katana leaning against a wall.
The black cord wrapped around the hilt remained exactly as she'd left it.
The distinctive zebra-striped grip stood out among the racks of weapons.
She grasped the hilt and slowly drew the blade an inch from its scabbard.
The steel shimmered beneath the light.
Perfect.
No damage.
No rust.
She slid it back into place and secured it across her back.
Only then did she finally relax.
CDC Headquarters
Third Floor
Wu Fan sat in his office chair, staring at the points balance displayed on the system panel.
430,000 points.
The number continued to rise steadily.
Every few seconds, several hundred more points appeared.
Merle's large-scale bombing operations in the north had generated enormous rewards.
Meanwhile, Sean's expeditions to Fort Benning and Fort Eisenhower had recovered vast quantities of military equipment, saving even more resources.
Every aircraft transported from Robins Air Force Base and placed into storage had effectively been converted into points.
Wu Fan tapped his fingers against the armrest.
Then he opened the system shop.
The Bio-Weapon category appeared.
Tyrant — 5,000 points. Duration: 1 day.
Licker — 2,000 points. Duration: 1 day.
Executioner Majini — 3,000 points. Duration: 1 day.
Nemesis — 10,000 points. Duration: 2 days.
He stared at the list.
Then he glanced at his point balance.
Finally, he closed the page.
The problem wasn't cost.
The problem was efficiency.
A Tyrant only recognized one target at a time.
Order it to kill a walker, and it would pursue that single walker until the task was complete.
Only afterward could a new target be designated.
Against millions of walkers, that was absurdly inefficient.
Even Merle's artillery batteries were more effective.
The other bio-weapons weren't much better.
Without direct orders, they simply waited.
The Red Queen refused to provide any form of automated control system.
It was as though the system had handed him powerful toys and told him to figure out the rest himself.
Wu Fan lit a cigarette.
Bio-weapons were best suited for eliminating enemy factions, not clearing hordes of walkers.
More importantly, their existence posed a risk.
Thousands of people now moved through Umbrella territory.
The clone soldiers who handled transportation and security could only keep secrets for so long.
Eventually, someone would notice.
And if the truth ever came out?
It wouldn't matter that Wu Fan had never released a virus.
Nobody would believe him.
The moment people learned Umbrella possessed bio-weapons, he would become humanity's public enemy.
The irony was almost laughable.
Umbrella Corporation truly was becoming Umbrella Corporation.
Walker hordes weren't even the greatest threat anymore.
High walls.
Heavy weapons.
Enough ammunition.
Those were enough to deal with the dead.
After a long moment, Wu Fan made up his mind.
Food production came first.
Once Hershel's agricultural projects could support twenty thousand people, he would begin expanding the UBCS clone forces.
Ten thousand soldiers.
A true standing army.
Bio-weapons would remain emergency assets, used only against enemies that conventional forces couldn't handle.
That would be his rule.
Slow progress was acceptable.
Mistakes were not.
The system offered incredible power.
That didn't mean he had to abuse it.
One reckless decision could turn him into humanity's greatest enemy.
He preferred staying on the right side of history.
Wu Fan flicked away the cigarette ash and turned off the system panel.
Then he picked up the stack of reports waiting on his desk.
The first came from Marcus at the airbase.
Fifty new survivors had been settled, and perimeter-clearing operations were progressing smoothly.
The second was Hershel's soil analysis report.
Most of the scientific data meant nothing to him.
He skipped directly to the conclusion.
Suitable for large-scale wheat production.
Also suitable for fruit orchards and greenhouse vegetables.
Good news.
The third report was Amy's inventory summary.
Food reserves: 40 days.
Water reserves: 25 days.
Wu Fan circled the water figure and wrote two words beside it:
Accelerate drilling.
One Week Later
Jackie returned to the abandoned quarry outside Atlanta.
The former survivor camp was now overgrown with weeds.
James's squad accompanied him as security.
Three walkers emerged from nearby bushes.
Rain and Olson moved immediately.
They stepped forward, pinned the walkers' shoulders, and drove their daggers through the temples with practiced efficiency.
The bodies collapsed instantly.
The remaining walkers met the same fate.
Jackie barely glanced at them.
His attention remained fixed on the quarry.
The pit had filled with rainwater and resembled a small lake.
"You can barely see the bottom anymore," he said.
"We'll need to drain the water first."
He pointed around the perimeter.
"Then build walls on all four sides."
His finger moved toward the center.
"We can construct a steel tower here and install loudspeakers."
James nodded.
"To attract walkers?"
Jackie smiled.
"Exactly."
"The quarry becomes a giant trap."
As he spoke, he quickly sketched measurements and construction plans onto a map.
A new walker disposal facility was beginning to take shape.