It was late at night, yet the area outside Rock Fortress was tense and bustling.
The first to return was the eight-person squad led by Maya, followed by a massive, slow-moving group of over a hundred people.
Rickson, Turner, Jenson, and Ancheta, who had stayed behind, had already received word over the walkie-talkies. They opened the outer barbed-wire gate in advance and organized everyone available at the base to gather at the entrance.
When they saw the seemingly endless line of gaunt, malnourished survivors, even Rickson, the toughest among them, couldn't help but suck in a sharp breath.
"My God… they really brought the whole production line back…" Turner muttered.
"Don't just stand there! Move according to plan!" Rickson snapped back to his senses first, his shout cutting through the stillness.
"Medical team! Dr. Evans, Dr. Jenner, Felipe, Merle, Miguel, Guillermo—prioritize the critically injured and the weak!
Logistics team! Mrs. Howard, Martha, Mira, Elena, Ming, Morgan—prepare food and water! Tom, Joey—help maintain order and guide them to the designated area!"
Rock Fortress immediately sprang into action with remarkable efficiency.
Dr. Evans and Dr. Jenner, along with Guillermo, Miguel, and Merle, quickly set up a temporary triage station at the edge of the clearing.
Dr. Jenner and Dr. Evans usually worked together studying the Wildfire virus and Calista's blood sample data, and it was said they had made a tiny, almost negligible breakthrough.
Felipe, formerly a nurse at an Atlanta nursing home, had now become their regular assistant.
With so many people brought back this time, triage required extra hands, so Guillermo and Miguel were pulled in as well.
As for Merle, having lost his right hand, he couldn't handle heavy tasks, but passing gauze and assisting was still well within his ability.
Several tables were pushed together and covered with clean cloth. Crude as it was, it was still a rare medical setup in this post-apocalyptic world.
Under Mrs. Howard's direction, Martha, Mira, and Morgan carried out bucket after bucket of steaming soup made from dried vegetables, a small amount of jerky, and potatoes, along with freshly baked bread mixed with bran yet still fragrant.
The smell of food quickly spread through the air, making many of the rescued survivors swallow hard, their eyes reddening.
There were simply too many people for the fortress to accommodate, and Calista had already made it clear that not everyone would be taken into Rock Fortress itself.
Rickson had long since arranged for a relatively safe area to be cleared within the main barbed-wire perimeter, where dozens of makeshift tents had been set up.
Some came from stored supplies, while others were hastily built using canvas and wooden poles. Abandoned vehicles, wooden crates, and barbed wire were used to form a second, improvised defensive line.
These hundred-plus people were temporarily settled there. The conditions were rough, but at least they now had shelter, food, and medical care.
Among the crowd, the twenty-odd rescued National Guard soldiers quickly organized themselves.
"Sergeant Miller," Rickson said as he strode over, speaking rapidly, "you've seen the situation. We're short on manpower.
We need your men to help maintain order, assist with distributing supplies, and carry the seriously injured and sick to the doctors first!"
"Understood! Leave it to us!" Sergeant Miller immediately turned and barked orders to his soldiers.
"Team A, maintain formation and keep the line in order. Team B, assist with stretchers—get everyone who can't walk to the doctors!
Team C, help distribute food and water. Keep your eyes open—anyone who dares to push or grab, I'll deal with them myself! Move!"
The well-trained soldiers sprang into action at once.
Though just as weak as the others, their discipline set them apart.
Several soldiers moved to the outer edges of the crowd, forming a human barrier to guide the chaotic mass into orderly lines.
Others carefully supported the nearly collapsed wounded, steadily carrying them toward Evans's makeshift clinic.
A few more took position by the food barrels, assisting Mrs. Howard and the others in distribution, ensuring everyone received a share. The process was slow, but orderly, preventing any chaos or scrambling.
Watching these newly arrived soldiers in tattered uniforms yet acting with sharp efficiency, Mrs. Howard let out a relieved breath and whispered to Martha, "Thank God, some capable men have finally arrived."
Then she raised her voice, "One bowl of soup and one piece of bread each! Take your time—there's enough for everyone!"
On the other side, Mr. Howard was just as busy.
He led Ben, Kevin, Aleksei, and several other young men in quickly inspecting the trucks and off-road vehicles that had just returned, noting needed repairs while directing others to unload and sort the scattered supplies.
"The brake pads on this one are almost worn down—needs replacing."
"This pickup is missing a rearview mirror. Driving at night like that is too dangerous."
"Drain all the fuel first—store it together!"
Before long, the roar of engines sounded again in the distance.
Edmund's Mobile Squad returned one after another, escorting prisoners, along with Calista and her group.
When the twenty or so survivors rescued from the basement joined in, the atmosphere surged with emotion once more.
"Wilson! Daniels! You're alive!!"
"Allen! My God, this is incredible!"
"You bastard—you actually made it!"
The National Guard soldiers recognized one another and rushed forward, embracing tightly, too overwhelmed to speak clearly.
They had all believed the others were dead. This reunion brought tears even to these hardened men.
Corporal Wilson grabbed Sergeant Miller and pointed excitedly at Calista, who was stepping out of a vehicle.
"Sergeant! It's her! That lady and her people! They wiped out Lorenzo's base and rescued us!"
Sergeant Miller looked at Calista, his eyes filled with a complicated mix of gratitude and respect.
He straightened his tattered uniform, strode up to her, stood at attention, and delivered a crisp salute.
"Sir! Technical Sergeant Allen Miller of the 278th National Guard Regiment, on behalf of all rescued soldiers and civilians, thank you for saving our lives! We will carry out any orders, no matter the cost!"
The soldiers behind him also stood straight and saluted in unison.
Calista gave a brief nod in return.
"Sergeant, no need for that. Get some rest and recover. Rock Fortress will still need all of you."
She then turned to Rickson.
"Get the newcomers settled."
The last to be brought in were Lorenzo, Wagner, André, and Marco.
Their hands were bound behind their backs, their eyes covered, as they were escorted straight to the underground prison converted from the estate's wine cellar.
After receiving word that conflict might break out, Ancheta had worked with his men around the clock, reinforcing the once-spacious cellar with thick steel bars and dividing it into several sturdy individual cells.
Jason, the Red Scarf Gang underling captured earlier, was curled up in one corner. When he saw the new "cellmates" being dragged in—especially the grim-faced Lorenzo—his face went pale, and he shrank back even further.
Lorenzo and the other three were locked into separate cells.
The heavy iron doors slammed shut and were locked, producing a dull, echoing thud.
In a single night, they had fallen from the core of the Red Scarf Gang to prisoners of Rock Fortress.
Whether they could adapt to life behind bars remained to be seen.