The trip back home was almost disappointingly uneventful.
Almost.
A handful of walkers stumbled across the roads here and there, drawn by the rumble of the trucks, but they never came close enough to become a problem, and there weren't many to begin with.
Most of the convoy simply drove too fast for them to follow.
A couple were on the road, too close to the lead truck and disappeared beneath several tons of armored steel with a wet crunch before the convoy continued as if nothing had happened.
The real threat wasn't the walkers—it was Merle.
A threat to my ears and brain.
"...I'm tellin' ya, soldier boy, if we'd stayed another hour, I'd have found myself one of them fancy coffee machines," his voice crackled through the truck radio. "You know, the expensive ones. Push a button, get coffee. Hell, probably made pancakes too."
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
Twenty minutes.
He'd been talking for twenty god damn straight minutes without stopping.
"I swear," he continued, "there had to be a liquor cabinet hidden somewhere. Government folks ain't workin' sober."
Daryl's voice came over the radio. "Merle, shut up."
Merle just laughed.
I reached toward the radio.
For one glorious second, I seriously considered switching it off.
Then I sighed and left it alone.
At some point, I'd started wondering whether I should've "accidentally" forgotten to install the radio in his truck.
Jenner, meanwhile, hadn't spoken a single word.
He sat in the passenger seat, staring silently out the window.
His face remained unreadable.
The explosion hadn't helped.
No… the explosion had changed something.
After loading everything worth taking, we'd dismantled the CDC's backup generators, removed the spare diesel units, stripped out the massive lead-acid battery matrix, and hauled away everything useful.
It had been the logical decision.
Every battery, every generator, every electrical component—the farm needed them more than an empty, soon-to-be-destroyed government facility.
The downside was obvious.
Without these systems, the CDC's remaining lifespan had been measured in minutes instead of the original weeks.
Then the blast came.
By then, we'd already cleared Atlanta's outskirts.
Even from miles away, it had been impossible to miss.
A dull, rolling boom.
The ground trembled beneath the tires.
Moments later, a dull orange glow rose behind the skyline.
Jenner never looked back.
Neither did I.
The thermobaric charges had done exactly what they were designed to do: erase everything.
The CDC was gone.
By now, there probably wasn't much left besides twisted steel and scorched concrete.
Whatever secrets remained buried beneath those laboratories had died with the building.
I glanced sideways.
Jenner still hadn't looked away from the window.
His expression wasn't grief, exactly.
It was… acceptance.
Like watching the funeral of someone he'd mourned long ago.
Neither of us spoke.
What was there to say?
About twenty minutes later, the familiar fields came into view.
Home.
It was already late afternoon.
The sun had already begun sinking lower; we only had a few hours of daylight remained.
We had to hurry up and settle everything up before nightfall.
The farm gates slowly swung open.
Shane stood beside them, one hand resting on the heavy timber as he waved us through with a silent nod.
I nodded back before I eased the truck through first, the convoy following close behind.
As we drove deeper into the property, Jenner finally stirred.
His eyes drifted toward the expanding solar field stretching across one side of the farm.
For several seconds, he simply watched.
Finally, he spoke. "…Nice place you've got here." His voice was quiet, almost hesitant.
"It didn't always look like this," I replied, keeping my attention on the road.
"When I first found this place..." I smiled faintly. "...it was just an abandoned farmstead."
The memories flashed through my mind.
"Overgrown fields, half-collapsed fences, rotten equipment. Looked like it'd been abandoned for years. So much of it was falling apart."
I chuckled softly. "It looked like nature had already started reclaiming everything."
Jenner looked over.
"And now…"
I glanced around the settlement.
People working, children chasing Ghost across the yard, someone repairing fencing, smoke drifting lazily from the kitchen chimney.
"Now…" I couldn't help smiling. "…this happened."
"It wasn't just me though, it was everyone. Some fixed the fences, some revived the fields, another repaired the roof. Our mechanic brought the machinery back to life. These who knew something about carpentry fixed the furniture. Our doctors opened a small clinic. Everyone did what they could to make this happen."
Jenner looked around again.
His eyes lingered on the workshops, the livestock, the horses, the shipping containers stacked neatly in the distance, the organized crops.
"It must've taken a tremendous amount of work."
I laughed softly. "Yeah, it was."
I looked out over the settlement.
"Every blister, every sleepless night, every supply run. Worth it."
He looked at me for another moment, then slowly nodded. "I believe you."
A few minutes later, we reached the barn.
I parked beside the others and shut off the engine.
Then I climbed out and stretched my back.
Jenner joined me a second later.
He looked around again, his eyes taking everything in.
I smiled. "Come on, doc." I slapped the truck's door shut. "Let's get you settled."
The next few hours blurred together into one long stretch of controlled chaos.
Every truck had to be unloaded, every crate sorted, every box accounted for.
Everyone who was available pitched in.
Laboratory instruments, microscopes, refrigerated storage units, centrifuges—all found a temporary place until the permanent lab was ready.
Jenner stayed surprisingly busy.
Every few minutes, he'd stop beside another crate.
"Careful with that, that contains optical equipment."
"These chemical stay together."
"No, not that way."
His voice gradually became confident, more animated.
Eventually, we reached the meeting room.
Or rather… what used to be the meeting room.
The tables and chairs disappeared, shelving was moved.
The TVs stayed in place but were used as temporarily lab monitors.
Extension cords were run from the solar-powered electrical system.
By the time we were finished, the meeting room had transformed into a makeshift research lab. It was cramped, very cramped, but functional.
Jenner stood silently in the doorway.
His eyes slowly swept across the equipment, the monitors, the microscopes, the storage cabinets.
It wasn't the multi-billion lab of the CDC.
It wasn't even close.
But it was a start.
I stopped beside him. "It's temporary."
He looked over.
"This isn't going to be your permanent lab." I gestured around the overcrowded room. "We'll build you a proper one soon. You have my word."
For several seconds, he simply looked around the room again, then nodded. "I believe you."
I smiled. "Good." I clapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Now let's get something to eat." A laugh escaped me. "I'm starving."
Jenner smiled. "I suppose," he adjusted his glasses, "…I am too."
Together, we left the makeshift laboratory behind.
The work wasn't finished, not even close.
There were canals and a cellar to dig, a lab to construct, defenses to rise, a settlement to keep growing.
But these jobs could wait until tomorrow.
Right now… there was a hot meal with my name on it waiting.
And after everything we've been through today… that sounded so good right about now.
(To be continued...)