Carver let out a cold snort, his rifle still aimed in that direction. "If you ask me, we shouldn't have let that kid go just now.
Give them a real lesson. They won't know fear until they see blood."
Merle licked his chapped lips, his eyes fierce. "Fuck, a pack of starving wild dogs.
If we don't hurt them badly enough, they'll keep following us. What, are we supposed to carry boxes while watching for shots from the woods?"
Leah ignored their comments.
There were too many supplies to move in one trip.
Leaving people behind to guard the warehouse was inevitable, but with friend and foe still unclear, and the other side possibly desperate enough to take risks, the squad left behind could easily become the target of an ambush.
How long could simple intimidation hold up in the face of desperation?
Her gaze swept over the place where the other group had been standing, then over the messy footprints they had left in the snow as they retreated.
They were ragged and malnourished, but their group included both men and women. It was not made up entirely of young, able-bodied fighters.
Their eyes showed more wariness and desperation from being pushed to the brink than the madness and cruelty unique to raiders.
Just then, Daryl, who had been silent the whole time, had somehow moved to a spot slightly behind Leah's side.
He did not look at Leah. His gaze stayed fixed ahead, alert, and his voice was so low it was almost swallowed by the wind and snow.
"They've only got two or three hunting rifles. Mostly homemade spears. Most of their ammo pouches are flat. Formation's spread out. No discipline."
Brief and to the point, but it gave her the key information.
The other side looked tougher than they were. Their weapons were crude, their ammunition scarce, and they lacked basic tactical training.
A flicker of understanding crossed Leah's eyes.
She took a deep breath, the freezing air filling her lungs and clearing her head.
Leah said quietly to everyone, "Stay alert. No one fires without my order."
Then she raised her voice and called toward the woods.
"Marcus!"
Her voice carried through the wind and snow, and a slight stir came from the trees.
A moment later, Marcus slowly stepped out from behind a thick oak tree, his hands still raised to show he meant no harm.
"Something else you want to say?" There was a trace of hope in his voice.
"Come out and talk," Leah said. She also stepped fully out from cover, though her pistol remained in her hand at her side. "Just you. Tell your people to stay where they are."
It was a risky move, but it showed both sincerity and confidence.
Marcus hesitated, then gestured back toward the woods. Alone, he trudged through the deep snow and stopped about ten meters from Leah.
At that distance, both sides could clearly see each other's expressions, and both were still within effective range of most weapons.
"Who are you people?" Leah asked directly, looking straight at Marcus. "Tell the truth. That decides whether this becomes a trade or a war."
Marcus glanced at the people behind Leah, clearly trained soldiers, and at the well-maintained standard weapons in their hands. He knew he had no room to bluff.
He gave a bitter smile and answered honestly.
"Some of us used to work at Norris Dam." He pointed toward the faint outline of the dam in the distance.
"When the end came, we survived using some of the dam's emergency reserves and facilities.
Later on, we gradually took in people who fled Knoxville, and we became a small community. We're in an old logging camp not far downstream from the dam."
Norris Dam is located on the Clinch River in Tennessee, USA. It was the first major dam project built by the Tennessee Valley Authority in the 1930s, about 48 kilometers from Knoxville.
Marcus rubbed his face, red from the cold, and continued, "There aren't many walkers around here. At first, we could barely get by with hunting and scavenging.
But winter's gone on too long. It's too cold. Game is getting harder to find, and every place worth scavenging has already been picked clean.
Medicine, especially antibiotics, ran out long ago. The old people and children have started getting sick. As for food..."
His voice caught, and he did not continue, but the despair in his eyes said enough.
"There are more than eighty people in our community. The elderly, most of the women, and the children are hiding in the camp, surviving on what little food we have left. Those of us who came out are the ones with some strength left."
Marcus looked back toward the woods. "That kid Leo has a sister who's only twelve. She's had a fever for days, and she's starving down to skin and bones. Just now, he was only too scared of losing the last family he had."
There was a plea in Marcus's voice. "We're not bandits. We're not raiders. We're just trying to live."
On the Rock Fortress side, the team listened in silence.
Even the short-tempered Merle had some of the ferocity fade from his face.
More than eighty people, the elderly, children. Those words carried a special weight in the apocalypse.
Leah's expression did not change, but her heart softened a little.
She believed Marcus. His words matched what she had observed and what Daryl had judged.
A settled group of survivors with elderly people, women, and children to protect was fundamentally different from wandering raiders.
"How much do you need?" Leah suddenly asked.
Marcus froze, as if he had not understood.
"Food. Medicine. How much do you need to ease the crisis and last until the weather warms up, when you can search for resources on your own again?" Leah repeated calmly.
Marcus's breathing quickened at once. Disbelief lit up in his eyes, only to be replaced immediately by even greater concern.
"You... you're willing to share with us?"
He could not believe that in the apocalypse, anyone would be willing to share supplies they had already gotten their hands on with strangers.
"This isn't charity," Leah cut off that fantasy, her voice cold and hard. "And it doesn't mean trust. It's only to reduce unnecessary trouble."
She paused, her gaze sweeping over Marcus, then over the faint figures behind him, before stating her terms.
"We can give you five boxes of emergency biscuits and one basic medical kit, including tourniquets, gauze, disinfectant, and a limited amount of painkillers. That should solve your most urgent problem."
Marcus looked as if he might burst into tears from relief. Five boxes of biscuits did not sound like much, but those sealed provisions, enough to provide basic calories, could keep dozens of people alive for many more days.
The medical kit was even more desperately needed.
Hope flared in Marcus's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by deeper caution. "What are the conditions?"
After months in the apocalypse, he no longer believed in free lunches.
"Two conditions."
Leah held up two fingers. "First, every one of you puts down all weapons immediately and places them on the open ground ahead."
...
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