"You shouldn't have killed them in front of everyone. We basically invited them to hate us." Tommy approached Alan, who was waiting in an open area for a helicopter.
Alan checked the time and said, "The truth is, I'm more comfortable when people hate me. I can't look people in the eyes and let them see me as some kind of hero when I never was one."
Trying to evoke that sense of safety in scared people to erase the scars of their past was something Alan could despise. "Things might turn out better if they hate me. That way, they'll learn to survive for when the time comes — the time for them to wield the weapon themselves."
Tommy shook his head. He understood Alan well enough to know he was preparing all these people.
If they weren't mentally prepared to lose everything in a matter of seconds, they wouldn't survive the harsh future that awaited them as things worsened.
"Zz… Descending into the secure zone."
Alan watched as a helicopter descended and a dozen soldiers jumped out. They moved to one side, and one of them stepped forward and said, "Ready to serve, sir."
"Good. Join the other stationed soldiers here. Until I return, Sergeant Tommy will be in charge of the base. Report to him immediately."
The truth was, Alan wanted to do things right, but until he confirmed that none of these soldiers were affiliated with FEDRA, he wouldn't be at ease.
"Understood, Captain. Have a safe trip," one soldier replied before walking off with the others. His gaze was firm — he seemed to know Alan, or at least know something more about him.
"Take care, Alan."
Alan said goodbye to everyone, then boarded the helicopter with Claire and James, who needed immediate medical attention.
Once everyone was ready, the helicopter quickly departed from the dam and headed back toward the military base they had come from.
Claire smiled, looked out the window, and asked, "So, Captain, are you ready?"
"Honestly, no. Learning how many of my friends or subordinates have died is always bad news."
Hearing those words, Claire wanted to say something, but then remembered she too was searching for someone. The fear she had pushed away suddenly returned to torment her.
Outside, no matter where you looked, the world's complete desolation was on full display.
Cities were in ruins. Numerous airstrikes had wiped out entire roads, leaving only towering columns of smoke behind.
Alan recalled scenes of war overseas, and now, here on his own soil, there was no difference. Without a doubt, millions had died by now—possibly even hundreds of millions of people.
It was only a matter of time before only a small minority remained…
…
In a dark cabin.
Alan slowly opened his eyes. He looked around at all the people seated and let out a soft sigh. He had imagined countless times what it would be like to return to the army, but now, just minutes away from arriving, he couldn't picture anything.
From what he'd heard, although the army was low on fuel and couldn't keep helicopters flying nonstop, it wasn't yet a major issue. Scheduled flights were still possible to eliminate walkers, carry out surveillance, and perform extraction missions.
Now, everyone was fighting to survive, to combat, and to do whatever it took to keep the infected away from the quarantine zones.
According to James, several military bases and containment shelters had fallen in recent weeks. Only three major military bases remained, doing everything they could to protect refugee communities.
But it was only a matter of time before those shelters were also destroyed by the infected, who were now overpowering the military with their overwhelming swarm tactics.
Currently, there were just over ten thousand people at the central base they were heading to. Considering other safe zones, it was estimated that in Texas alone, the armed forces who had refused to join FEDRA numbered fewer than a hundred thousand — a number that was rapidly shrinking.
Moreover, they were now tasked with protecting more than two hundred thousand survivors, people who were also being killed at that very moment.
"Captain, five minutes until we reach our destination!" one of the crew members announced.
Upon hearing this, Alan pressed a button on his chest, and the radio emitted a sound in the pilots' headsets. "Zz... Copy that. Contact the base and inform them we're about to arrive."
"Zz... Roger that, sir!"
If Alan were being honest, he knew they would lose the survivor bases — those safe zones would fall into infected hands. That's why, before that happened, they needed to create a singular stronghold at the hydroelectric power plant.
Minutes later, the helicopter slowly descended from the sky and landed on a flat stretch of ground. Several people could be seen moving military equipment into combat vehicles, but when they noticed Alan's arrival, everyone stopped to pay attention.
Alan stood up and waited for the rear door to open. Once it did, he stepped out, his face marked with a cold, unreadable expression. In the distance, a man named Jack stood waiting for him with a wide grin upon seeing his friend.
Seeing him, Alan allowed himself a small smile and approached to greet him. "I thought you wouldn't survive this hell, but I'm glad to see you."
Jack scratched his nose and hugged Jason before replying, "I'm glad you're alive — he needs you."
Alan opened his mouth as if he wanted to have a normal conversation, but he knew there wasn't time for that, so instead, he asked, "How's General Shelton?"
"Not great, my friend. The pressure is killing him."
Claire, who was closely following Alan, heard the entire conversation without taking part in it. She knew she would have her chance to ask questions later, so for now, she acted as his second-in-command.
As they walked toward the command building, Alan could see combat helicopters, full ground teams, and angels of death — the Lockheed AC-130s — coming and going from the base.
Jack told him they were losing — and losing fast. What was holding back the millions of infected in the cities now were the bombings, but even then, the infected were managing to breach the refugee communities.