Unlike the Scavengers' camp, the mood inside the Throat-Slasher Gang's stronghold was much stranger.
In the open space at the center of the stronghold, a campfire crackled and popped, its light falling across faces that were trying hard to look fierce but could not hide their unease.
"Damn Rock Fortress!" A burly man with a dagger tattooed on his arm spat a thick glob of phlegm onto the ground. "Who the hell do they think they are, acting like big shots?
"So what if they know a few crooked tricks? Big deal, they drove off some walkers. If they've got the guts, let them come out and fight us for real. I'll crush their balls myself."
He cursed with spit flying, thumping his chest loudly, but his eyes kept drifting toward Block D.
The sight of that walker horde moving silently during the day had still left a shadow in his mind.
"Yeah, Dave's right! There was so much good stuff in Block B, and we just let them take it!" another underling shouted along. His voice was loud, but there was not much confidence behind it.
"Boss, we can't just let this go. We have to show them Knoxville isn't theirs to decide yet."
"Yeah! Ambush them, raid their transport convoy, burn their outer checkpoints!" A few hotheads were stirred up and started howling, as if they were ready to rush out and fight to the death at any moment.
Rex crouched beside the fire, slowly picking black dirt from under his fingernails with a piece of wire.
Only when the shouting died down a little did he speak in a mocking tone. "Ambush them? Raid their convoy?
"Do you know which route their convoy takes? How many people escort it? What gear they have?
"Do you know how many outer sentries they have? When they change shifts? What warning devices they set up?
"With our handful of junk guns and those brains of yours that look like they got slammed in a door?"
Dave, the tattooed brute, flushed red with anger. "Then… then what do you say we do? Just sit here and let them shit on our heads?"
"What do I say?" Rex tossed the wire aside and clapped his hands. "I say we figure out one thing first. Do we want to vent our anger and become corpses, or do we want to keep breathing on this land?"
He looked toward Eddie, who had been sitting on a broken sofa with a gloomy face, whittling a stick with a bayonet. "Boss, you decide. My life's already borrowed anyway. Whatever happens, happens."
It was a slippery thing to say, throwing the decision right back to Eddie.
Everyone's eyes turned to Eddie.
Eddie whittled the stick slowly, each stroke heavy, wood shavings falling with soft rustles.
He understood the situation perfectly.
Dave and the others were idiots, but they were not idiots simply because they were fearless. They were idiots because they could not see the gap.
The way Rock Fortress had cleared Block B, the defenses they had built so quickly, their well-trained teams… they were not on the same level at all.
Even at its peak, the Red Scarf Gang had only relied on numbers and guns. But Rock Fortress had an organized, regular-army feel that chilled him down his spine.
An ambush?
Several images flashed through Eddie's mind at once.
He would lead his men close under cover of darkness, only for suppressed bullets to fly out from some unknown corner, or for someone to trigger a booby trap, leaving his guys dead without even knowing how it happened.
Even if they got lucky, even if they succeeded and grabbed some supplies, what then? How would they face the inevitable retaliation that came after?
But his men had already pushed him into this position. If he backed down now, could he, the boss of the Throat-Slasher Gang, still keep these muscle-headed fools under control?
Especially now, when everyone had just been shaken by another force and morale was unstable.
"We do it!" Eddie suddenly hurled the sharpened stick into the fire, sending sparks flying.
He lifted his head, his face fierce as though he had made up his mind to go all in. "Of course we do it. Otherwise, how are our guys supposed to keep going from now on?"
Dave and the others' eyes lit up.
But Eddie's next words made them freeze. "But not now, and definitely not by touching their convoy or checkpoints. That's suicide."
He stood and walked to the crude map of the park they had drawn themselves.
"Open your damn eyes and look. They took Block B. What's next? Block A. Block C.
"What's in Block A? Precision parts, electronic components. Those things are light and valuable. Block C has medicine."
Eddie jabbed his finger hard onto the location of Block A. "Rock Fortress has a big appetite and moves fast, but they've just swallowed Block B. They need time to digest it. We take advantage of that window."
He swept his gaze over his men, his voice full of persuasion. "Before they make their move, we sneak into Block A first.
"We don't go head-to-head with Rock Fortress. We go for those hidden small warehouses. We grab the most valuable, easiest-to-carry electronic components and precision tools.
"Take as much as we can. If we can't carry something, don't destroy it. Hide it. Or leave an inconspicuous mark."
Dave looked confused. "Boss, we don't destroy it? Then… doesn't that mean we're not making trouble for them?"
"You don't know shit!" Eddie cursed. "Destroy everything, and that's a death feud. Take nothing, and what are we supposed to live on, air?
"This is called… gathering strategic supplies in advance. We get the benefits without openly falling out with them.
"When they really take Block A later and notice the good stuff is missing, they may not even know we did it.
"Even if they do know, by then we'll have used the goods or hidden them. Are they really going to fight us to the death over some old account?
"Their biggest problem is that festering boil in Block D. Who knows what kind of thing is going to hatch from it?"
Rex raised an eyebrow. He understood perfectly.
Eddie wanted the benefits but was afraid to burn bridges, so he had come up with this awkward excuse.
Calling it "strategic supply gathering" sounded nice. In plain words, it was looting while the opportunity was there, with a healthy dose of cowardice mixed in.
But that could not be said aloud.
And this strategy was indeed far more reliable than Dave's suicidal frontal attack. It also fit perfectly with the Throat-Slasher Gang's fine tradition of bullying the weak and picking at scraps.
"Boss is brilliant!" Rex was the first to back him up. "That's how you make money quietly.
"We don't need to fight them head-on, but we can't miss out on the benefits either.
"Once we've got enough solid goods in hand, whether we negotiate with them or trade with someone else, we'll have more backbone."
Once the others heard they would not have to risk their lives fighting those strange people and could still get real benefits, they immediately felt that their boss really was thinking ahead.
The shouts of "kill them" quickly turned into "grab more good stuff" and "find a safe place to hide it."
Although Dave still felt it was not satisfying enough, once he heard there would be good things to take, he only muttered a few complaints and stopped objecting.
Eddie watched his men become "united" again and quietly breathed a sigh of relief, but the faint restlessness and humiliation inside him did not fade.
He knew this was only delaying the inevitable.
Rock Fortress was like a sun growing brighter and brighter, shining down until rats like them in the gutters had nowhere left to hide.
They could dodge it for now, but not forever.
But right now, besides hiding, besides snatching a few pieces of meat while the other side was not paying attention, what else could he do?
"Listen up!" Eddie raised his voice, doing his best to maintain the authority of a boss. "Move fast, and move quietly.
"Don't make a big scene, and don't let their people see you. Once you get something, bring it back to the usual place right away. Count it and stash it.
"Whether the Throat-Slasher Gang gets to eat meat or sip broth from now on depends on this one move."