"They're farming… they're actually living…" Tony leaned against the truck window, eyes wide as he murmured to himself.
Beside him, the frail woman hugged the dirty doll tightly. The doll's wide eyes faced the cleanly dressed children running and playing outside, and the woman's eyes suddenly reddened.
The convoy stopped in an open space at the edge of the residential area.
Two Rock Fortress civilian staff members who had been waiting there came forward to meet them.
The one leading them was Gwendolyn. Behind her was Oak, the clever, tactful man with glasses.
After Jack's theft incident, Oak's performance had caught the attention of Ellie, who was in charge of administration, and he had been recommended to Gwendolyn.
"Welcome to the Blackberry Ranch settlement area." Gwendolyn's voice was calm and firm, loud enough for everyone getting out of the trucks to hear. "I'm Gwendolyn, and I'm responsible for the initial screening and placement of new arrivals.
Please take your belongings and line up by family or group. We'll register and interview you one by one.
Don't worry. This is just routine procedure. We need to understand your skills and health conditions so we can make the most suitable arrangements."
The Scavengers gathered timidly, forming a crooked line.
They could not help looking around, staring at the neat houses and listening to the sounds of livestock coming from not far away…
Compared with the filthy, dangerous "home" they had lived in at the industrial park, where every day was uncertain, this place was like another world.
The screening was carried out inside several temporary tents.
Gwendolyn and Oak were professional, and their questions were detailed: name, age, job before the apocalypse, skills, health condition, history of infectious disease,
whether they were willing to follow Rock Fortress's rules, how many walkers they had killed, how many people they had killed, and why…
Every question pointed to one core issue: whether they could, and whether they were willing to, become part of this orderly community.
The process went more smoothly than expected.
Most of the Scavengers, especially those with elderly relatives, children, or those who were weak or injured themselves, were almost desperate to say they wanted to stay.
A safe roof, steady food, clean water, maybe even medical care… These were things they barely dared to dream about anymore.
The Scavengers answered carefully, trying hard to remember anything "useful" they could still do, even if it was only mending clothes, pickling vegetables, or recognizing a few kinds of wild greens.
Cole did not immediately get in line.
He stood not far away, leaning against a truck tire, silently smoking a hand-rolled cigarette as he watched everything.
The little girl with the injured leg walked excitedly and nervously into the tent. When the woman holding the doll said she knew how to spin thread and received Gwendolyn's approval, her eyes lit up.
However, among the few young and able-bodied men in the line, there was not only longing on their faces, but also an obvious trace of struggle and confusion.
Sure enough, when the initial screening ended, Gwendolyn announced, "Those who have passed the initial screening will next be assigned temporary housing, receive basic living supplies, and undergo further health checks and quarantine.
After that, you'll be assigned to the agriculture team, handicraft team, or logistics support team according to your skills."
A subtle split appeared in the crowd.
About two-thirds of them, especially the elderly, the weak, women, and children, were overjoyed. Some even started crying as they followed Oak toward the neat rows of housing.
But the remaining dozen or so young and able-bodied men, including Tony, hesitated and did not move.
They looked at one another, and in the end, all their eyes turned to Cole.
Gwendolyn noticed it too. She walked over to Cole and asked gently, "Mr. Cole, these people are…?"
Cole stubbed out his cigarette, sighed, and waved the young men over.
They gathered around uneasily.
"Ms. Gwendolyn," Cole said, his voice a little hoarse, "these boys… and me. We've thought about it, and we'd still rather go back to the industrial park."
Gwendolyn raised her brow slightly but did not object right away. "Can you tell me why? Blackberry Ranch can give you a stable life."
A young man with a scar on his face gathered his courage and spoke. "This place… this place is too good. But other than digging through ruins, knowing the roads, and avoiding walkers, we don't really know how to do anything else…"
Tony added, "The Commander and Miss Norton took us in and gave us weapons. They didn't do that just to get a bunch of people who only know how to hide in the back, right?
We know that industrial park, and we know the ruins east of Knoxville too. People like us are needed more over there."
Cole nodded, then took over, looking at Gwendolyn with an honest gaze. "Young lady, I've lived a long time and seen too much of people's hearts.
Miss Norton is someone who does big things. She sees far ahead. The entire industrial park is the fist she's going to clench next.
The best use for people like us isn't building walls and farming here. It's helping her polish that fist and making sure it knows where to strike.
Hiding in the mountains and enjoying the good life? That would waste the chance she gave us, and it would shame that little bit of hope in us that hasn't died yet."
Gwendolyn listened quietly, her gaze sweeping over these rough-looking men whose eyes carried the toughness unique to people who had survived at the bottom.
Then she suddenly smiled, and there was a touch of genuine respect in that smile. "I understand. Mr. Cole, I'll report your choice to Calista exactly as it is. A vehicle will be arranged later to take you back to the industrial park.
However, according to procedure, you still need to pass basic health screening. And once you return to the industrial park, you must strictly follow the management rules there and accept unified assignment."
"Of course!" Cole quickly promised, and the others nodded one after another.
On the ride back, the atmosphere was completely different from when they had arrived.
The Scavengers who stayed behind were full of hope for the future, while the dozen or so who chose to return felt something heavy settle on their shoulders.
It was not a burden, but a long-lost sense of responsibility and being needed.
They were no longer rats hiding in garbage piles and barely clinging to life. They were gears with their own place in a larger picture.
Even if they were only gears at the very edge.
After Calista learned of Cole and the others' choice, she did not say much, but her opinion of the Scavengers rose another notch.
Cole's decision was within her expectations, yet even more fitting than she had predicted.
These people who had struggled to survive at the very bottom might lack formal training, but they possessed an almost instinctive sharpness, along with the self-awareness to know their own value.
They had not forgotten their usefulness just because they had suddenly found safety. Instead, they had taken the initiative to return to the place where that usefulness could best be put to work.
They understood what Rock Fortress needed.
Not just obedient laborers, but eyes and hands that could go deep into the gray areas and extend its reach of control.
In the apocalypse, that kind of practicality and tact was more valuable than many empty oaths of loyalty.
"Got it." Calista decided to tell Rickson to arrange a management position for Cole, give him a certain degree of autonomy, and put him in charge of reconnaissance and initial exploration in designated areas.
...
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