On the rooftop of the center, Alan was staring beyond the metal fences that protected the area. When he heard the door behind him open, without turning around, he said, "I wasn't expecting to see you. I thought you wouldn't come."
Talia hadn't rested all day, and now the new information she had obtained had left her deeply shaken. "Where did you get this information?"
"What do you mean?" Alan didn't immediately admit that the data stored in the memory came from him.
"Weren't you waiting for me?" Talia didn't catch Alan's sense of humor, so she frowned in annoyance.
"Don't you find it curious where the future is leading us? You should've realized it a long time ago—there's no control in the world, Doctor." Alan walked toward Talia, who was highly skilled in the medical ward.
"Where did you get this information?"
"That's just the tip of the research FEDRA is conducting... A few days ago, we took the liberty of intercepting information sources that have given us certain advantages." Alan had discovered several research centers in Texas, most of which were being relocated to new bases established near the dam.
The plan to keep growing—and to prevent emigration—was to fully monitor radio communications and turn Texas into a dead state.
In other words, they would install antennas to completely block conventional radio transmissions. If they wanted to resist, they would need to remain "dead" to the rest of the world for a few years.
Becoming the center of control wasn't a good thing, especially because they couldn't afford to welcome every survivor.
"The reason I want to classify the sick is to give them a less painful end. Those of us who leave this base alive will live in constant suffering until things become more manageable."
"This base is lost. With the orders the high command has issued to the army... FEDRA is doing everything wrong, which is honestly funny. How do they expect us to win if they've forgotten that soldiers are human and have families?" Alan looked down just in time to see helicopters unloading supplies and equipment.
"Aren't you just like them?"
Alan looked up and said, "Don't get it twisted. I'm being far too kind to all of them... When the infected start to show branched mycotic growths from the spine to the skull, low-caliber bullets won't work."
What they had discovered so far, with their limited tools, was that in Europe, they had started using nuclear bombs to wipe out entire cities in hopes of reducing the infection.
Moscow, for example, had stopped sending reports and was now nothing more than the dead capital of Russia—reduced to ashes.
Other countries had used their arsenals too, but the results hadn't changed much.
"FEDRA will begin using even more powerful bombs to contain the infection, but even with all that firepower in our hands, we won't be able to stop it." Alan planned to pull back the Texas army so they could start attacking the cities swarming with millions of infected.
When Alan saw the doubt in Talia's face—the same face of someone who wanted to flee—he smiled and said, "Act with resolve. Give them a peaceful death, and let's move toward the future. It would be far too cruel to abandon all those people when the infected hordes reach this base."
"Alright, just give me some time to think..." Talia found it hard to breathe, knowing that the lives of the patients under her care were now in her hands.
She was fully aware she couldn't afford to be selfish. The medicine, the blood—it had to go to those who could keep fighting. As for the rest, sadly, they would have to be left behind.
"This isn't easy for me either. They're not disposable resources, and if we're not attacked on a large scale, we might even be able to evacuate some survivors." Alan didn't want to leave anyone behind—he contradicted himself constantly in these decisions, but as the leader, he had to set his feelings aside and think like a soldier.
Talia was also a soldier, so she needed to think objectively about the matter.
"You'll have the list by tomorrow at the latest. I'll prepare the sedatives, and they'll be ready to be administered."
"I'm counting on you. Don't let me down." Once he saw that Talia understood, Alan left—there were still many things to take care of.
…
Texas, temporary base at the stadium, McAllen City, near the Mexican border.
"Zz… Team One moving, no enemy interference."
Stuart watched as the containers of weapons and trucks full of armored vehicles were carefully parked in the massive football field. He nodded with satisfaction.
Of all the survivors he had been tasked with protecting in this city, none had been infected.
Everything had gone well, and from what he could tell, there were still more local families in need of rescue. In fact, many survivors had requested asylum—something they couldn't refuse.
"How many sick?" Stuart, who was monitoring the operation, asked with interest.
Stuart's assistant, named Derek, shook his head. "None so far, but sir, I have a question."
"Ask what's bothering you." Stuart, of course, had been expecting something.
"Do you really think we should keep putting our safety at risk like this?" Derek didn't understand why they were still following orders from complete strangers.
Stuart understood, so he said, "Can you see that group of Mexicans and Colombians? They're under Raj's command, and that man seems to know the Colonel. From what I can see, if they ever feel the urge to rebel, they wouldn't hesitate to kill him."
"But sir, they're civilians…"
"We're not soldiers anymore. We woke up, remember?" Stuart looked at the soldiers stationed there and said, "Besides, as long as we can establish ourselves around the dam, we'll have a secured future."