Chapter 37: The Warmth of Home
Cooking oil smoke rose slowly along the edge of the pan, drawn into the range hood.
The air filled with the aroma of food and wine.
On a rectangular table sat various dishes. Everyone clinked glasses, joking and boasting with each other.
The atmosphere brimmed with domestic warmth, as if in this moment, the so-called apocalypse had already receded into the distance.
Jenner sat at one end of the table in the seat of honor, watching everyone eat heartily, his face glowing with a happy smile.
Yes, life outside is so difficult. They might as well die with me instead.
Comforting himself with this thought, a faint smile appeared on Jenner's face.
Jenner ate very little and barely spoke, as if a barrier stood between him and Rick's group.
While everyone feasted, Rick stood up, raised his wine glass, and tapped it with a fork. Then he gestured toward Jenner with his palm.
"Everyone, tonight we've enjoyed such a delicious meal and this wonderful evening, far from walkers, far from danger."
"This is all thanks to our friend, Jenner."
"Let us raise our glasses." Rick lifted his glass, beaming at Jenner. "Thank you, Jenner!"
"Cheers!"
"Cheers!"
The joyous atmosphere reached its peak in that moment of clinking glasses.
Everyone enjoyed a wonderful meal. No one spoiled the mood. No one looked gloomy. Everyone was happy.
At night, snoring gradually began. Most people had fallen into sweet sleep.
"Tate? You got in?"
A voice came through the walkie-talkie.
Tate glanced at the tightly closed bedroom door, shut the bathroom door as well, and sat on the toilet. "Yeah, we're inside."
"You were right. There aren't many people at the CDC. But I didn't expect there'd only be one person."
The walkie-talkie crackled again. "That's normal. Even during the apocalypse, family is more important. Going back to family is understandable."
"How did your reconnaissance go today?"
Tate scratched her hair, frowning as she thought and spoke.
"The above-ground part of the CDC is all conference rooms and offices and such. All abandoned."
"The main areas are underground levels one and two."
"Today we only moved around level one. The living quarters, cafeteria, library, rec room—they're all on level one. As for level two, I don't know."
The voice on the walkie-talkie paused for a moment, then continued. "Underground level two should be where the researchers work, storing large quantities of dangerous viruses and the power generation area."
"Don't go wandering around down there. It's very dangerous. If you break some container and release some virus, you're finished."
The voice spoke urgently, as if worried Tate's recklessness might get her killed.
Tate waved her hand dismissively. "How's that possible?"
"I can't even get down there. You need an ID badge and clearance."
That voice paused for a long time without speaking. So you really did consider it, huh?
"You don't need to do much else. Tomorrow you just need to secretly bring Jenner back. I'll communicate with him."
"You don't need to worry about anything else. Eat what you want, drink what you want, enjoy these few days."
"OK." Tate hung up immediately, quickly burrowed under the covers, closed her eyes, and fell asleep.
As for that voice's instruction to enjoy these few days, she didn't take it to heart at all.
For Tate, every moment she was alive, she was enjoying life, good or bad.
On the other end of the conversation, Caesar looked at the now-silent walkie-talkie and shook his head with a smile. He hadn't finished talking yet.
He hadn't told her the convoy had found so much food.
But it's the same if he tells her when they meet. It'll be even more shocking when she sees it.
Caesar thought with a smile.
Taking advantage of the late hour, Caesar stood up and looked around.
Multiple tents were arranged in well-organized patterns, forming circle after circle. At the center of each circle were barrels burning various books or wooden furniture.
Atlanta's day-night temperature difference was significant. Without burning something at night, people could easily get sick.
Caesar crossed several circles and came to the edge of the encampment.
The perimeter consisted of various vehicles connected end-to-end, with all sorts of small traps outside.
Walking to one of the circles, Caesar tapped on a tent.
The tent flap opened. Inside was Guillermo.
His beard, which he'd once kept neat and tidy, looked particularly unkempt from lack of grooming. The hair on his upper lip and chin connected together, uneven lengths—very sloppy.
"What is it?" Guillermo's voice was somewhat hoarse, perhaps from drinking too much today.
Seeing his disheveled state, Caesar frowned. "Mo, are you still sober?"
"Heh~ Sober?" Guillermo scoffed, pointing at himself. "Am I not sober enough?"
Guillermo stepped out of the tent and spread his arms, looking at the surrounding tents. Only a scant few remained. The sadness in his eyes nearly overflowed.
"Look. This is all my doing. I lacked ability, which led to all the elderly at the nursing home being slaughtered."
"Now only these ten-plus people are alive."
"Am I not sober enough?" The smell of alcohol was strong on Guillermo. He suddenly stepped close to Caesar. Caesar could clearly see the red veins in his eyes.
WHAM—
A heavy punch struck hard into Guillermo's abdomen.
His stomach taking critical damage, Guillermo fell to the ground, vomiting filth in great mouthfuls, his body arched. He looked terrible.
At that moment, other tents instantly stirred. Several people with weapons burst out.
The night watchmen stationed at the perimeter vehicles also noticed and raised their guns, aiming at Guillermo's group.
Although Guillermo had taken a punch, most of what he vomited was alcohol. Standing up, he was actually much more sober. He wiped his mouth and raised one hand. "Everyone go back. I'm fine."
Philip's shiny bald head bobbed as he walked to Guillermo's side. "Mo, are you really okay?"
Philip's eyes were somewhat red. His relatives had also lost their lives in the nursing home battle.
Guillermo patted Philip. "Really fine. We're just friends having a discussion."
After speaking, he pushed Philip, who stood beside him, sending everyone back to their tents.
Caesar also raised his hand. The watchmen's gun barrels lowered.
Caesar brought Guillermo to the parking garage's office area. The walkers here had all been cleared out. It was very clean.
"Sit." Caesar plopped down on a chair and said casually.
After Guillermo sat, he heard Caesar's words.
"So, are you sober now?"
"Sober, sober." Guillermo nodded. He really had been too drunk and unclear-headed just now.
"Good. Since you're sober, let's talk business." Caesar crossed his hands and placed them on the table, looking directly at Guillermo.
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