Hi everyone. Having some free time i managed to finish the chapter early. I hope everyone enjoys it.
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As the convoy rolled away from the Big Spot grocery store, its red taillights fading into the distance, the forest across the road stirred with faint movement. Shapes emerged from the darkness — a dozen, maybe more — men and women in torn civilian clothes, their faces streaked with grime and shadow.
They crouched among the trees, watching the vehicles disappear down the road. The rumble of engines faded in the distance.
One of them, a broad man with a scar running down his cheek, lowered his binoculars; the faint glow of the departing convoy still reflected in the lenses. His voice was low, edged with restrained fury. "They're moving out. All of 'em."
A younger man beside him gripped his rifle tighter. "We should have hit them when we had the chance. Now they are gone ."
The scarred man's scowl deepened. "No. Not with those guns." He nodded toward the treeline where the convoy had vanished. "Those two new vehicles — mounted fifties. Would have cut us in half before we could even kill half of them."
The woman with a hunting rifle tightly gripped in her hand spat into the dirt. "So we just let them go? After everything their kind did?"
The man's jaw tightened. "For now. It's getting dark and it's dangerous with the geek's wondering thought the forest. We'll find them, don't worry."
Then his eyes drifted toward a young man in his early twenties — rifle in hand, wearing a scavenged military vest. The scarred man squinted at him. "Elias, you seem apprehensive. Something on your mind?" he asked, the tone carrying a faint edge of accusation.
After a moment of silence, Elias met his gaze. "There were families there — children, elderly. If we'd attacked, they could've been killed. I—"
He was cut off by the woman with the hunting rifle. "And? Those must be their families. You saw how they interacted. Those bastards took their families and ran while ours were killed." She stepped toward Elias, face raw with anger. "Those bastards deserve to feel the same pain we feel."
"Before putting a bullet through their skull," someone else added, voice flat.
The woman grabbed Elias by the vest, anger seeping into her voice, getting her face closer to his. "You still have your little sister, so you don't know how it feels to lose everything." then she released him, turned around, and walked back into the forest.
Elias wanted to say something back, but decided against it.
The scarred man looked at him for a long moment but said nothing.
Silence hung in the air, broken only by the wind rustling through the trees. One by one, the figures walked back into the forest.
....
The convoy rumbled down the cracked asphalt highway, engines growling through the still night. Headlights cut through the darkness, their beams stretching far down the empty road. In the lead JLTVs, the .50-cal gunners scanned the treeline — hands steady on the grips, eyes sharp for any sign of movement.
At the rear, the Humvee followed close behind the truck carrying civilians. Inside, soldiers sat shoulder to shoulder, weapons resting across their laps, barrels angled toward the windows. They rode in tense silence, broken only by the occasional murmur over the radio or the metallic clack of a rifle bolt being checked one more time.
Andrew sat in the passenger seat of the lead JLTV, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.
He considered the possibility that the Governor might be behind those attacks, he did killed several soldiers in the show. He pondered it for a while but eventually decided to leave those thoughts for later, now he has to focus on what to do next.
Outside, the gunners shifted now and then, scanning both sides of the road.
After nearly an hour of driving, the faint glow of distant lights appeared through the trees.
Above, the helicopter followed above them. Now from the sky, the pilots could see the light from Fort Ironwood .
As they drew closer, Andrew reached for the radio. "Ironwood actual, this is Mercer. Convoy inbound. Open the gates, over."
A burst of static, then a voice replied, "Copy that, Lieutenant. Opening the gates."
Moments later, the tall steel gates began to open with a heavy metallic groan. Floodlights bathed the road in harsh white as the convoy approached.
The lead JLTV slowed to a crawl, engines idling as it rolled through the gate. Inside the perimeter, soldiers waved them in, guiding the vehicles toward the motor pool.
From the rear Humvee, Doyle exhaled a long breath of relief. The long, dangerous drive was finally over.
The gates clanged shut behind the last vehicle, sealing them inside the relative safety of Fort Ironwood.
As the vehicles came to a stop inside Fort Ironwood's motor pool, engines idling down one by one, soldiers and civilians began to dismount. The air buzzed with activity — orders shouted, metal clanging, floodlights casting long shadows across the yard.
Andrew stepped out of the JLTV, stretching the stiffness from his shoulders. Under the harsh white glow of the floodlights, he spotted Captain Price and Gaz approaching from across the compound, their boots crunching on the gravel.
Andrew gave them a curt nod, which they returned. "I'm guessing Major Griggs wants to see me," he said.
Price nodded, his expression unreadable. "Aye. There are things that need to be addressed."
"With that, I agree," Andrew replied, glancing back toward the convoy. "We might have another problem on our hands."
Price raised an eyebrow. "And what might that be?"
Before Andrew could answer, Sergeant Doyle was already walking up, helmet tucked under his arm, fatigue lines visible under his eyes.
"I'll explain on the way to the meeting room," Andrew said, then gestured to Doyle. "But first — this is Sergeant Doyle. He's in charge of a National Guard unit from the 223rd Support Battalion. He's got intel on a possible hostile group operating near Atlanta."
That caught Price's attention immediately. His gaze sharpened, and Gaz shifted beside him, frowning.
"Is that so?" Price said quietly. "Then we'd better not keep the Major waiting. Things just got even more serious."
The group started toward the command building, their boots echoing against the concrete. As they walked, Andrew and Doyle began explaining the situation — the ambushed patrols, the hostile civilians, and about the attacks on the Big Spot safe zone, which Doyle and the rest of his unit managed to fend off.
As they walked Sergeant Doyle couldn't help but slow his pace as they crossed the compound. His eyes swept over what had once been a resort — now transformed into a could only be considered a military base. Floodlights illuminated lines of sandbags, patrols moved in coordinated rotations, and soldiers moved about with quiet efficiency, ensuring the vehicles were refueled, weapons cleaned, and gear checked before turning in. Laughter and low conversation drifted between them, a rare sound of normalcy amid everything that happened.
Civilians, too, had begun to wind down. The day's work had been grueling — clearing trees to open the perimeter, laying the groundwork to reinforce the outer fence with shipping containers, and help preparing foundations for a new motor shed where vehicles could be sheltered from the weather. Now, most of them were heading towards the hotel and the mess hall for a warm meal.
There was a kind of order here that Doyle didn't expected to see again.
His gaze then lingered on the pair of tanks positioned near the motor pool, their turrets angled outward toward the treeline. The sight drew a faint, disbelieving exhale from him. Hearing the chopping of rotor blades, he looked up at the CH-47 Chinook as it prepared to land, guided in by a soldier waving two glowing sticks.
As they neared the main building, guards at the entrance straightened before stepping aside, letting them pass. Inside, the hallway was dim but orderly, the hum of a generator echoing softly in the background.
Doyle followed Andrew through the corridor until they reached a door marked COMMAND. Approaching it , they opened it without a word.
They imidietly could hear the low murmur of voices from inside the room. Major Griggs stood by the central table, arms crossed, deep in conversation with Ghost, Soap, and Nikolai.
Griggs looked up as they entered. "Lieutenant Mercer. Good to have you back."
His gaze shifted to Doyle. "I presume that's Sergeant Doyle?"
Andrew nodded, stepping aside. "Yes.He and his people held a safe zone at the Big Spot, with around forty civilians, before we made contact."
Griggs's eyes swept over Doyle , taking in the worn fatigues. "At ease, Sergeant. You and your men surviving this long… that's no small feat."
Price spoke next, arms folded as he leaned forward slightly. "Still, they had some trouble. Ambushes. A group of civilians — armed, organized, and targeting military personnel."
Ghost shifted against the wall, his voice low and deliberate. "Targeting soldiers? You sure they're not raiders?"
Doyle shook his head. "No. They're civilians — survivors from areas where… orders were carried out." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "When things started falling apart, orders came through to execute civilians , no matter if they were infected or not. We refused, but others didn't. We believe these people are survivors from those areas."
The room fell silent. The faint buzz of the lights filled the silence before Griggs finally spoke, his tone grim. "So they're people with a vendetta, armed and with nothing to lose. That makes them dangerous."
Andrew nodded slowly. "Yes, Major. We don't know their full numbers yet, but they could become a real problem down the line."
Doyle cleared his throat. "Actually, sir… in the first attack, we counted roughly two dozen."
Gaz leaned forward, brow furrowed. "So what we're looking at might be something of an insurrection."
Soap smirked faintly, though his tone was far from amused. "Wouldn't be the first time we've had to deal with one of those ."
Nikolai, arms crossed, spoke up next, voice steady. "Anger can make good men do terrible things. If they see every soldier as an enemy, this will not end with words."
Griggs stood in silence for a long moment, weighing the situation. Finally, he spoke. "We're too centralized here. With fortifications still under construction, we can't risk a direct assault. One of our patrols reported finding a nearby closed community — walls still standing, defensible ground. With a bit of work, it could serve as an outpost. We'll need to expand, mentaining a specific distance for quick response in case of an attack."
The discussion around the table slowed as each man weighed Griggs's words. Price gave a short nod, Gaz leaned back with a sigh, while Ghost's kept his impassive stare — they all knew the Major was right.
Griggs glanced around the room. "All right. We'll go over the details tomorrow.
Then he turned to Doyle. " The mess hall's still open — get your men fed and settled in. We'll assign quarters and go over integration first thing in the morning."
Doyle hesitated for a moment, nodding with visible relief. "Thank you, sir." He gave a short salute to Griggs before leaving the room.
Once the door shut behind him, Griggs leaned forward on the table, his tone shifting from debrief to command. "Now, Mercer — about the train with the containers."
"Yes, ?" Andrew asked.
"We secured it," Griggs said. "About two klicks east of here. Small yard, one main line still intact. We will begin to unload those containers in the next few days. Once we get those offloaded, we'll be start on the wall ."
Andrew nodded. "That's good news, sir."
Griggs studied him for a moment. "Now — tell me about Terminus."
Andrew exhaled, already anticipating the question. "They've got a decent setup — they managed to convert the rail yard into a community. People sleep in repurposed shipping containers. They've got gardens and a rain-catch system; the water and food supplies are holding for now. What they desperately need are medicine and fertilizer. They want to mentain their independence as well— they want to manage themselves."
My proposal was to establish a small outpost nearby to have a level of influence in the area."
Griggs frowned, rubbing a hand along his jaw. The room went quiet as he considered the proposal. Finally, he shook his head. "No. Not now."
Andrew looked at him. "Major?"
"With a hostile group on our doorstep, I'm not splitting manpower. That outpost would be a liability. If Terminus wants to stay independent, let them prove they can handle it. We'll trade — I'll even send a few instructors to train their people if they ask — but no permanent garrison. Not yet."
Andrew nodded slowly. "Understood."
"Good," Griggs said, then straightened. "Now — something else."
He turned and picked up a compact drone from the floor beside his chair, setting it gently on the table. The machine was scuffed, its casing marked with improvised wiring and patched panels.
"During one of the supply runs," Griggs continued, "some of the civilian volunteers — engineering students, mostly — found a few drones in a warehouse. They worked on one of them, improving it."
Price raised an eyebrow. "That looks like one of early-generation stuff, isn't it?"
"Close," Griggs said with a faint grin. "It's an early model— limited flight time, short range, nothing fancy. But these kids rewired the power cell, doubled the signal range and they even boosted the camera."
Nikolai leaned closer, impressed , he whistled. "That could be really useful."
"Exactly," Griggs said. "It's not military-grade, but for scouting routes and spotting movement, it'll do the job. We'll start field testing tomorrow."
The conversation shifted naturally after that into logistics. Price brought up what everyone was already thinking.
"There is a need for spare uniforms, armor plates, equipment , the current ones will slowly deteriorate creating problem in the future."
Griggs nodded. "That brings us to our next problem — Fort Benning."
At that name, the room fell silent again. Everyone knew what lay there.
Gaz was the first to speak. "That place must still be crawling with walkers."
"Exactly," Griggs said. " That means the stockpiles are still there — weapons, vehicles, medical supplies, gear. It's a risk, but one worth taking."
Andrew looked thoughtful. "We'll need to plan it carefully. Entry points, extraction routes. We can't afford to lose people."
Griggs nodded. "Agreed. We'll start drawing up plans tomorrow. We'll decide how to proceed."
He looked around the room, his gaze steady. "Get some rest, all of you. Tomorrow we start planning for the next step .