Chapter 32: The Haul
Martinez made his decision instantly. He pointed toward the street behind them and shouted his orders. "Follow me! Retreat! Retreat!"
Under his hysterical screaming, the remaining ten or so men fled in panic.
With no walkers blocking their escape route, their speed increased significantly. In moments, the walker herd swallowed the abandoned vehicles completely.
Martinez and his men retreated while firing their weapons at the walkers, killing a considerable number while also keeping the herd's attention firmly locked on them.
Caesar emerged from a side street wearing his blood-soaked lab coat, several team members dressed identically standing beside him.
Among them were Morales, T-Dog, and others.
Morales asked in confusion, "Why did we let them go?"
In Morales's view, they could have used the walkers to trap those men. All they needed to do was block the last remaining street and eliminate their gunmen.
"A cornered enemy fights hardest. To keep them here, we'd have to pay a heavy price ourselves."
Caesar shook his head. Trapping Martinez's group would require Caesar and his people to charge in with guns blazing. Walkers alone wouldn't be enough to stop them.
And Caesar's people were clearly outmatched in combat training and ability compared to the enemy. A direct confrontation would cost who knows how many lives.
"Did you forget what our original objective was?" Caesar turned his head, his gaze burning as he looked toward the market sign.
"Original objective?"
Morales muttered the words quietly, following Caesar's gaze. He smacked his fist into his palm. "Right! We came here for food."
"Exactly. We only wanted food. Those people don't know us and haven't seen our faces."
"We eliminated a good portion of their manpower and captured some spoils of war. Most importantly, we secured this entire food market."
Caesar looked at the market through the dissipating smoke. Despite the blood and corpses covering the ground, he couldn't suppress the joy in his heart.
To put it conservatively, the food they could take back would feed their current convoy of twenty to thirty people for one or two years.
Of course, that was the ideal scenario.
Rice, flour, and beans could be stored for a long time. Canned goods would also last. Vegetables and fruits had likely already rotted completely, and the meat and frozen goods had probably spoiled without electricity.
Ultimately, this assault on the food wholesale market only guaranteed their most basic food requirements.
They could eat their fill, but nutritional deficiencies would be inevitable.
To eat well, they'd need to establish a proper food circulation system at the ranch.
Still, even with such distant goals ahead, Caesar remained confident about the future.
"Come on, let's go inside and take a look!"
Caesar led the way into the market. The doors stood wide open.
He could see a blood-red pickup parked quietly inside. Through the windows, he could make out two figures.
Several dead walkers lay near the passenger side door.
Caesar frowned and tapped on the window with his axe handle.
The window slowly rolled down, revealing Daryl's face behind the mask. Both brothers sat in silence, looking like they were... sulking?
"What's... what's wrong with you two?"
Caesar raised his hand, gesturing vaguely at both of them.
Daryl glanced at Merle but said nothing. Merle, usually a chatterbox, also remained silent.
Caesar's mind was entirely focused on the supplies stored in the market. He was too lazy to deal with their drama. He waved dismissively. "Save the brooding for later. Right now, danger's everywhere. Don't act like children around me."
Only then did Merle get out of the truck. Caesar noticed him clutching his arm. "You're injured?"
"Get that lab coat off right now. Be careful of walker virus infection! If you're infected, you'll turn into a walker fast."
While warning him, Caesar stripped off Merle's blood-soaked coat and tossed it aside. He waved behind him. "Someone come bandage him up."
A knife cut open Merle's sleeve. They washed the wound with clean water, flushing away the contamination. Fortunately, Merle's jacket was thick enough that the blood from the coat hadn't seeped through to the wound.
Then they disinfected it with alcohol and other supplies before applying a simple bandage.
Afterward, Caesar had Daryl take Merle to rest in the truck while he led the others into the market.
Earlier, through the walkie-talkie, Glenn and Jimmy had reported they were hiding in a relatively concealed, safe corner. They'd checked each other thoroughly—neither had any wounds, walker bites, or scratches.
Inside the market, corpses and splattered black blood littered the ground, along with two nearly licked-clean pools of blood.
The merchant stalls inside had long been looted clean. Vegetables and fruits were scattered across the floor with flies buzzing around them.
The entire market was filled with a nauseating mixture of smells—rotting flesh, blood, mildew—all blended together.
The moment Caesar stepped into the market, he quickly covered his nose and mouth, pulling out a face mask for protection.
Morales, following behind, stumbled and nearly fell face-first to the ground.
T-Dog raised his hand to cover his nose and mouth, desperately stuffing cloth into his nostrils.
"Move fast!" Caesar waved his hand and quickened his pace.
They hurried up the stairwell, stepping over obstacles. The second floor was filled with stacked miscellaneous items—clearly used as warehouse space.
Caesar slowed his pace and called out loudly, "Glenn? Jimmy?"
"We're here!"
Knocking sounds came from a small room.
Caesar ran over and opened the door. Glenn and Jimmy sat inside, their faces showing profound relief.
Glenn removed his baseball cap and pulled out a key, handing it over. "I didn't let you down, Caesar."
"I completed the mission."
Caesar paused for a moment, then smiled with genuine warmth. "Yes. You completed the mission."
"You did great. You too, Jimmy."
"Next, we need to haul everything out. Let's get you two outside first."
Both Jimmy and Glenn were physically exhausted. Caesar carried Jimmy on his back while T-Dog carried Glenn. They brought them out of the market to rest.
Then Caesar returned to their staging area in Atlanta—the parking lot—and brought everyone to the market.
At the same time, Caesar assigned Daryl and the other able-bodied workers to find large cargo trucks for loading the food.
Among the convoy were people like Jim and Dale—technical specialists who could repair vehicles and fix equipment. There were also domestic workers like Carol, plus some men too afraid to participate in combat.
All told, there were about thirty-plus people.
Rip had arrived at the parking lot earlier and now came to the market as well.
Caesar glanced at Rip. Rip said nothing, only nodded.
They knew each other too well. Caesar understood Rip's meaning immediately.
The job was done cleanly. The target was thoroughly eliminated.
Caesar grinned and threw his arm around Rip's shoulders, raising his eyebrows with a rare show of smug satisfaction. "You absolutely cannot imagine how much food we collected this time."
Rip pushed Caesar's hand away and shrugged indifferently. "I don't care."
Caesar said in mock annoyance, "When you see it, you're going to be blown away."
What followed was naturally the process of hauling the food.
Caesar pushed open the iron door to the food warehouse. He held the door, savoring the shocked expressions on everyone's faces—mouths slightly agape, eyes blank with disbelief.