Wilson's voice caught in his throat. Beside him, Daniels picked up the thread, his tone tight with anxiety.
"They're National Guard too, just like us! Earlier, they… they were taken by Lorenzo's men. They should be held somewhere else… or maybe… maybe they're working on the production line…"
His voice trailed off, growing quieter, as if he knew he was asking too much, yet couldn't bring himself to abandon his comrades.
Wilson forced himself to continue, his voice strained. "We know this is asking a lot. You've already taken huge risks for us. We just… we just want to know if they're still…"
He couldn't finish. Guilt and despair filled his eyes.
Calista stopped and looked back at them.
"The production line," she said calmly, cutting off their hesitant words, "our other team should have already secured it. If your men are there and still alive, they should be free by now."
It was like a bolt of lightning tearing through the darkness.
Wilson and Daniels snapped their heads up, eyes wide, staring at Calista in disbelief as a surge of hope washed over them.
"Re… really?! My God! Is that true?!" Wilson's voice broke, nearly collapsing to his knees.
"Another rescue team? They… they made it?" Daniels stammered, tears spilling over.
"If everything went according to plan," Calista said. She didn't overstate it, but the confidence in her voice was enough. "Right now, focus on yourselves. Stay with the group and get out alive. That's the only way you'll see them."
"Yes! Yes, ma'am! Thank you! Thank you!"
The two were so overwhelmed they could only repeat their thanks before hurrying back into the crowd, whispering the incredible news to the others.
A wave of restrained relief and quiet cheers rippled through the group, their will to survive strengthening once more.
But Calista felt no ease.
Most of the base's vehicles had been assigned to Maya's team for the worker rescue.
This area had been a battleground between the walker horde and the Red Scarf Gang. Calista hadn't expected many of these captives to survive in the first place.
When they arrived, they had led a walker horde here step by step. Even their five-person elite squad had taken a long time to get in.
Now, they had over twenty severely weakened survivors to escort through an industrial park still dotted with wandering walkers, all the way back to the distant Rock Fortress.
That alone was a massive challenge.
The group carefully exited the commercial center building.
Outside, in the open area, the Mobile Squad stood on guard with weapons raised, watching over Lorenzo and the other three, who were bound tight.
Seeing Calista's group bring out so many survivors, Edmund paused briefly, then signaled that the area was secure.
But the problem appeared immediately.
The earlier gunfire and commotion were still drawing scattered walkers from all directions.
They weren't forming a horde, but for such a large and vulnerable group, they were still a deadly threat.
"We can't stay here. We need transportation," Calista ordered decisively.
"Edmund, you take your team and bring these four back to Rock Fortress first. Mike, Carver, Bossie, expand the perimeter and take out any walkers getting close. The rest of you, search for any usable vehicles nearby."
Edmund's group had arrived in a pickup. They pulled burlap sacks over Lorenzo and the others' heads and threw them into the truck bed.
Saed took the passenger seat, while Gavin, Rory, and Mikey climbed into the back.
Mikey knocked on the side of the truck. Edmund started the engine, and they drove off first, taking the prisoners back to base.
The rest got to work.
Carver and the others used suppressed weapons to pick off approaching walkers with precision.
Calista, along with Leah and the rescued survivors, moved quickly through the industrial park, searching parking lots and roadside areas.
The situation was bleak.
There were plenty of abandoned vehicles, but most were either completely wrecked or had their fuel drained.
They found several cargo trucks the Red Scarf Gang had used for transport.
One was burned down to a bare frame. Another had all its tires blown out and the cab smashed to pieces. A third had its hood open, with key engine parts missing.
"Shit! Those bastards trashed everything before they left!" Leah kicked the tireless truck in frustration.
Hope began to fade again. The fragile optimism on the survivors' faces gave way to exhaustion and fear.
There was no way they could make it back to Rock Fortress on foot with this many people.
Maya's team had taken most of the base's vehicles to transport the rescued workers from the production line.
Just as everyone was running out of options, a man in his fifties with thick, calloused fingers hesitantly raised his hand.
"Uh… well…" His voice was quiet, uncertain. "I used to be a mechanic. Been doing it for over thirty years. Maybe… maybe I can take a look?"
All eyes turned to him.
Calista looked at him. "You can fix vehicles? These ones?"
She gestured toward the wrecks.
The older mechanic, later introduced as Henry, gathered his courage and stepped forward. He carefully inspected the truck with the open hood, then moved to the one beside it with blown tires but a relatively intact body. He even crouched down to check the undercarriage.
He pointed to the truck with the open hood.
"The core engine components seem to still be there, but the starter motor and battery pack have been removed."
"If we can strip some parts from the other wrecks and swap the tires over… maybe we can piece together something that runs."
His words opened a window of hope for the desperate group.
"What tools do you need? How many people?" Calista asked immediately.
"Wrenches, pliers, a jack… and preferably a pry bar. Just a few people to help out," Henry said quickly, growing more confident.
Several men stepped forward right away.
Time passed, second by second.
"Alright! Give it a try!" Henry connected the final wire and called out.
Leah jumped into the driver's seat, took a deep breath, and turned the ignition.
"Click… click-click…"
The engine didn't start.
Everyone's hearts sank.
"Don't panic! Could be the fuel line, or the spark plugs!" Henry said, already climbing back into the engine bay.
A few more tense minutes passed. He even removed what he suspected were worn-out parts and replaced them with slightly better ones salvaged from the scrap.
"Try again!"
Leah turned the key once more.
"Click-click—ROOOAR!"
This time, the engine roared violently to life. Thick black smoke burst from the exhaust before the sound gradually settled into a rough but steady rumble.
It worked.
"YES!!"
Cheers and applause erupted from the crowd.
Henry wiped sweat and grease from his face, grinning with pride.
Carver and Mike gave him firm pats on the shoulder.
Soon, spare tires were mounted. They didn't match perfectly, but they would hold.
This "Frankenstein" truck, cobbled together from three wrecks, looked like it was on its last legs and sounded like it was coughing its lungs out, but it ran.
"Everyone, get on! Move!" Calista ordered.
The survivors helped each other climb into the truck bed.
The two National Guard soldiers stepped in to help maintain order.
The group set off toward Rock Fortress.
...
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