November 26, 2013.
Winter.
Day 64 after the outbreak.
Atlanta Quarantine Zone.
"Ah~"
The bitter cold woke Brian from his sleep. Shivering, he opened his eyes and sat up slowly, looking around. The room was dimly lit, barely revealing that they were inside a small venue.
Around him lay a sea of people, softly snoring in their sleep, still deep in slumber.
Brian tugged at his slightly open jacket, scanning the area. He realized the blanket covering him had been completely stolen by Sarah, who slept beside him wrapped in it. No wonder he had woken up shivering.
His gaze then shifted to Alan and Lucy, and finally to the mother and son who had helped them — he now knew their names since entering the quarantine zone: the woman was Daphne, and the boy was Dick. But his attention settled on Anna, who remained under her blanket, trembling slightly.
Since Wilfred's death the previous day, Anna's condition had deteriorated rapidly. Her spirit had faded, and she seemed to lose strength with each passing hour.
Brian couldn't fully understand the pain of losing a loved one, but he knew it must be an unbearable sorrow that cuts deep into the soul.
"Sigh..."
He let out a quiet breath, pulling his thoughts back. The events of yesterday — the chase, the infected horde — were deeply etched in his mind.
Although they had been quickly loaded onto military trucks and taken into the quarantine zone upon arrival — unable to see how the infected attacked the perimeter fence — he could easily imagine that if such large numbers hadn't broken through before, this smaller group wouldn't either.
At the entrance to the quarantine zone, soldiers began conducting medical checks. Besides routine scans, men and women were separated for full-body inspections before being given new clothes.
Of course, all weapons had to be handed over. As explained by the soldiers, no civilians were allowed to carry firearms within the quarantine zone. Other belongings in backpacks were left untouched — if someone possessed valuable items, they could choose to keep them or exchange them for supply cards of equal value.
Once inside, the soldiers were separated, while the survivors were all assigned to a nearby small exhibition hall near the main gate for temporary rest, until more specific arrangements would be made the next day.
They entered the exhibition hall around 1:00 p.m. In the following hours, more survivors continued arriving. Although dressed in new uniforms, the shock and exhaustion were clearly visible on their faces.
When night fell, no more survivors arrived. Brian took a careful count — of the nearly thousand who had left Dallas, less than half remained inside the quarantine zone.
Before entering the exhibition hall, Brian had specifically sought out Tracy to ask a question that had been troubling him for some time.
If even a thousand people struggled so much to enter the quarantine zone, what would happen when convoys from other regions arrived? Soon, there could be thousands — even tens of thousands. How would they manage entry?
Would they just let so many die because they couldn't guarantee safety? Was that really necessary?
Tracy gave a bitter laugh before answering with slight frustration:
"I asked the commander the same thing. The truth is simple — we just had bad luck. Originally, the Atlanta military planned to create a direct path to the main gate using tanks and armored vehicles, all prepared for future arrivals. But our convoy arrived too early, and since we were few in number, it wasn't worth launching a full-scale operation. We needed to get in fast... so you know the rest."
At this point, Tracy's expression darkened, her tone growing heavier.
Though she didn't say it outright, Brian understood perfectly. It was clear: fewer than a thousand people simply weren't worth a large-scale military effort.
From a strategic perspective, the decision made sense. In this post-apocalyptic world, every resource had to be used efficiently. But for those caught in the situation, it felt unbearably cruel.
Slowly rising from the floor, Brian pulled out the letter Wilfred had given him and quietly walked toward Anna.
Seeing how she had wrapped herself in the blanket, he crouched down and slipped the letter through a gap in the fabric, making sure she would find it first thing in the morning.
Then he returned to his spot, glancing at his watch. It was only 3:00 a.m.
"Ahh… I'll catch a little more sleep," he yawned, reaching out to pull his blanket back from Sarah.
But as soon as he tugged it, the sleeping Sarah instinctively gripped the blanket tighter, her eyes fluttering open slightly as she mumbled:
"Cold~"
Hearing that, Brian immediately stopped tugging, abandoning the attempt. A strange feeling stirred in his chest.
He just sat there, silently watching Sarah's sleeping face. Suddenly, he realized how much weight this girl — who had walked this entire journey with him — now held in his heart. If this had happened when he first arrived in this world, during a moment like yesterday's, he would have abandoned her without hesitation. But now...
Thinking back to how he risked his life to save others, even he found his own actions surprising.
Shaking off the thought, he leaned back against the wall, tilting his head slightly and closing his eyes halfway. His thoughts suddenly became unusually chaotic. What was happening to him?
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
As the first rays of morning light poured into the exhibition hall, the heavy front door was suddenly knocked from outside.
A one-eyed officer stood at the entrance. Seeing the survivors still asleep, he pounded on the door three times and shouted:
"All personnel, listen up! Gather at the front entrance in ten minutes. Those who are late will bear the consequences!"
Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving two soldiers to guard the door.
With the officer gone, the previously silent hall burst into activity. Everyone crawled out of their blankets, scrambling to pack their things.
Brian had only been in a light sleep, so the knocking instantly woke him. He turned his head and saw Anna, Lucy, and the mother and son already awake, while Alan and Anna were still fast asleep.
Walking over to them, Brian squatted down and shouted mercilessly into their ears:
"Wake up! Wake up!"
The sudden noise startled them awake, both sitting up abruptly, glaring at Brian with irritation at his smug grin.
As Brian woke them, his peripheral vision caught sight of Anna. He noticed the letter was gone, and she had neatly folded her blanket. Though sadness still lingered on her face, she looked significantly better than yesterday — clearly, she had read the letter.
Only then did Brian feel a bit relieved. After all, the reason people survive is often due to the strength of a single belief. If that belief is shattered, despair can lead to suicidal thoughts — and yesterday, Anna had been dangerously close to that edge.
But today, her state was completely different. There was no need to guess — Wilfred's letter had given her a new purpose.
Ten Minutes Later
In the open space in front of the exhibition hall entrance, all survivors gathered. Soldiers counted the crowd before nodding to the one-eyed officer at the front.
Seeing the signal, the officer smirked in satisfaction and spoke roughly:
"At least this time, not a single troublemaker showed up. That's good. I actually like you people right now!"
Then he began pacing back and forth in front of the crowd:
"First of all, welcome to the Atlanta Quarantine Zone. You are the fourth convoy to arrive here, but frankly speaking, you're also the unluckiest."
He paused briefly before continuing:
"Now that you've entered the quarantine zone, I'll explain the most important rules. Listen carefully."
He raised his hand and started listing:
"One: The quarantine zone operates under strict military control. All residents must present identification upon request and submit to random inspections. ID cards will be issued to you shortly."
"Two: Firearms are strictly controlled within the zone. Civilian possession is prohibited. Anyone found carrying one will be expelled immediately. If someone causes intentional harm, they will be executed on the spot."
"Three: Every resident must contribute labor to support the zone's production efforts and earn supply cards in return. These cards are required to collect food rations — you can think of them as currency."
"Four: As a resident, you are required to participate in tasks maintaining the zone every six months. Specific details will be announced later. Failure to comply will result in ration reductions or even expulsion from the zone. Of course, this rule won't take effect immediately, so you don't need to worry about it yet. Just remember it."