Only a few seconds after Jenson's warning, everyone barely had time to set up a defensive formation, let alone get back in the vehicles.
"Rumble, rumble, rumble!"
The roar of the helicopter grew louder and louder. It was exactly like the one they had run into in the mountains a few days ago.
And this time, it was closer and louder.
The livestock in the trailer panicked, stomping restlessly against the floor. Luckily, they were all locked inside. Otherwise, they would have scattered in every direction.
The powerful downdraft from the helicopter nearly blinded everyone. Dust and dead leaves whipped through the air, slapping wildly against their faces.
"Is this ever gonna fucking end?!" Turner roared, ducking behind a vehicle and aiming his gun at the massive machine in the sky.
"Everyone on alert!" Calista barked.
In an instant, every muzzle lifted and locked onto the Black Hawk helicopter hovering overhead.
What the hell?
What was this damn thing trying to do?
Capture them?
But the attack they expected never came.
The helicopter simply hovered there steadily, seemingly without hostile intent.
A moment later, something was thrown out of the cabin. Flashing with red light, it traced an arc through the air and landed with a clatter near the edge of the clearing.
Calista looked closely and saw that it was a beacon, still flashing a distress signal.
Then, under everyone's wary stare, the helicopter began to descend, slowly landing on a relatively flat stretch of grass not far away.
The rotor blades gradually slowed, but the engine did not shut off. Clearly, it was staying ready to take off at any moment.
The cabin door slid open, and three fully armed figures jumped down. The man in front raised both hands high, signaling that they meant no harm.
They wore standard National Guard digital camouflage combat uniforms and were well equipped.
The three approached cautiously, stopping about twenty meters away from Calista's team.
The man in front was an officer in his thirties with steady eyes. Judging by the rank on his uniform, he should be a lieutenant.
His gaze moved over Calista's team, who looked a little disheveled but kept a tight formation and carried well-maintained weapons, then shifted to the trailer full of livestock behind them. Unmistakable surprise flashed in his eyes.
"Good afternoon," the lieutenant said. "I'm Lieutenant Welles, Georgia National Guard."
A young soldier beside Lieutenant Welles quickly added, "I'm Franklin. We're only on a reconnaissance mission. We mean no harm."
The last one, a young soldier, looked curiously at Calista and her team. "I'm Sean."
On Calista's side, the atmosphere remained ice-cold.
Leah gave a cold snort and said nothing.
Carver spat out the dust that had blown into his mouth, then gave a smile that did not reach his eyes. "A few days ago, in the Clayton Mountains, you were the ones who brought a horde of walkers down on us with a helicopter, weren't you?"
Mike, Wells, and the others still had their wary gazes fixed on the other side, fingers never leaving their triggers.
Calista stepped forward, reached behind her head, and slowly picked a few leaves out of her hair, where the helicopter's airflow had blown them in. "Thanks to you, this afternoon hasn't been great."
Lieutenant Welles and the other two visibly grew awkward.
Franklin's face was full of the embarrassment of someone who knew he had caused trouble.
He stammered, "I-I'm really sorry."
"We've received your apology," Calista said, her voice completely cold and distant. "If there's nothing else, please leave. We need to rest, and we don't want to be disturbed by any more 'accidents.'"
She deliberately emphasized the word "accidents," making her order to leave blunt and unmistakable.
A deeper flicker of embarrassment crossed Lieutenant Welles's face, but he did not seem ready to leave.
After all, they were the ones asking for help.
Lieutenant Welles paused, as if making up his mind, then continued, "There aren't only three of us and one helicopter.
At an abandoned logging camp nearby, we have a temporary camp with more than a dozen men. We're looking for survivors."
Once he finished, not only Calista, but everyone behind her had a slight change in their eyes.
Looking for survivors?
Was there still an organized military force and government operating somewhere?
Judging by Lieutenant Welles's attitude, he did not seem like CRM.
Calista's heart gave a sudden jolt, but her face remained perfectly calm.
She quickly set aside her suspicion about CRM. Ordinary National Guard fit the temperament and equipment of the three people in front of her much better.
And Lieutenant Welles's almost complete honesty, while a little too straightforward, even reckless, also revealed exactly how eager he was to earn their trust, as well as…
Their current situation might not be good. They were likely desperate for reliable allies, or even a place to settle.
Calista's earlier resentment and coldness were instantly replaced by strategic calculation.
But she still had to play her part.
She raised an eyebrow slightly, her tone still flat, with a trace of doubt. "Oh? Lieutenant Welles, what exactly do you mean by telling me all this? Are you showing off how many people you have, or do you think we'd be interested in your camp?"
Lieutenant Welles took the firm but measured rebuff and hurried to explain, "No, ma'am!
I only wanted to make it clear that we aren't raiders. We're an organized military unit. We've been searching for other organized survivor forces. I can tell that you're… highly professional."
His gaze swept over Calista's group again, the meaning obvious. Then he added, "We also have several military vehicles and relatively intact logistical supplies."
A complete remnant of the National Guard, with heavy vehicles and air power?
In the apocalypse, this was practically a walking treasure trove.
But wait. Wait.
That sounded familiar.
A dozen or so soldiers.
Military vehicles.
A Black Hawk helicopter.
Those keywords echoed wildly through Calista's mind. Almost immediately, she matched the three soldiers in National Guard uniforms before her with the ill-fated team from the original storyline.
The group that had a helicopter, precious supplies, and personnel, only to be ambushed by the Governor and slaughtered in the end.
That was it. The timeline seemed to match.
They had escaped from a fallen military base and had been wandering ever since, searching for a place to settle.
In the original story, these people had the bad luck to run into the hypocritical Governor. But now, they had run into her.
A nearly predatory excitement surged through Calista's heart.
This team did not just have a dozen trained soldiers and several military vehicles. That Black Hawk helicopter was the priceless part.
Rock Fortress already had civilian helicopters, small farm machinery, military refueling aircraft, Hercules transport planes, and fighter jets. The only thing missing was a Black Hawk helicopter.
More importantly, bringing them in would stop the Governor from getting his hands on this powerful equipment. One side would grow stronger while the other lost its chance.
Gaining resources was fun. Gaining resources that would have gone to someone else was even better.
Still, laying everything out to strangers the moment they met?
Were these people idiots?
Calista rubbed her chin, feeling a little speechless.
Good thing they had run into a kind soul like her. If they had met someone else, wouldn't they have been cheated out of everything they owned?
From this, she could also conclude that these soldiers probably had not seen much of humanity's darker side after the apocalypse. Most likely, they had just been flying around the area looking for people.