The scene fell completely silent.
Only Marcus's heavy, strained breathing could be heard.
Calista looked expressionlessly at the man before her, a man who had given up his dignity just to win a slim chance of survival for the sixty people behind him, then swept her gaze over the community representatives standing behind him, their eyes full of expectation.
She did not answer right away. Her entire body was wrapped in a thick white snow ghillie suit, and her large goggles and tightly fitted mask hid every part of her face.
Only the deep gaze behind the goggles rested on Marcus.
No one could read any emotion from her, nor could anyone guess what she was truly thinking at that moment.
To Marcus and the others, those few silent seconds felt as long as centuries.
Marcus did not even dare meet Leah's and Carver's scrutinizing gazes. His entire mind was fixed on the final judgment of that white figure.
Their fate now hung entirely on Calista's decision.
Marcus's throat felt painfully dry. He could even hear the buzz of blood rushing to his head.
He had already put every chip he had on the table. The fate of the sixty-one people in the community now rested on the whim of this mysterious leader.
If she refused, where else could they go?
Back to that blood-soaked, hopeless logging camp, to wait for the next group of walkers to harvest them?
Marcus did not dare think any further. He could only stare hard into those gray-blue eyes, trying to catch even the slightest sign that she might relent.
Knox sighed silently in his heart.
He had lived most of his life. He had known the order of society and survived the chaos after the viral outbreak, but never had he felt so much like a fish on a chopping block, waiting for the knife to fall.
Behind Calista, the usual mocking curve at the corner of Carver's mouth faded a little, and a trace of interest appeared in his eyes.
He stood with his arms crossed, watching this scene of "begging" at his leisure while also paying attention to Calista's reaction.
Leah stood half a step behind Calista and slightly to the side.
Perhaps Marcus's plea stirred some sympathy in her, but at that moment, she simply carried out her duty as a guard in silence, leaving the decision entirely to her sister.
Finally, the white figure moved slightly.
Calista raised a hand, unhurried, and lightly adjusted the edge of her goggles.
Then she spoke.
Her voice came through the mask, slightly muffled.
"Agreed."
Just one word made Marcus and the others hold their breath, their hearts nearly leaping out of their chests.
But she was not finished.
"But there are conditions."
She began listing them one by one.
"First, everyone, regardless of age, must enter the quarantine zone and undergo two weeks of strict screening and health observation.
During that period, you will follow all of our management regulations. Anyone who conceals medical history, past malicious conduct, or refuses to cooperate will be expelled immediately.
Second, all personal weapons, explosives, restricted knives, and similar items must be handed over and will be registered and stored by the Rock Fortress Defense Force.
In the future, weapons will be issued by the Defense Force according to performance and mission needs.
Hiding weapons will be treated as rebellion. Anyone who does so will be killed on sight.
Third, there will be a one-month labor probation period. Your final positions will be decided based on your performance.
During this period, you will exchange labor for basic survival supplies. Those who perform poorly or show unstable personalities may still be removed.
As for clearly unstable elements, such as the few who previously tried to spy on us with hunting rifles, we will focus on monitoring and evaluating them."
Marcus's face grew even paler as each condition was announced, but conditions were still better than outright rejection.
After stating all the conditions, Calista's gray-blue eyes locked onto Marcus once more.
"Accept, and Rock Fortress will arrange the relocation. Refuse, and you can leave with the supplies from before. Whether you live or die will be up to fate.
What we are offering is a chance to survive, not charity. Every benefit must be earned through your own labor and loyalty."
She had given them a choice, but everyone understood that it was no choice at all.
All of Marcus and the others' humiliation and resentment were crushed beneath a stronger desire to survive.
He looked at the companions around him and saw the same expression on every face. Without any hesitation, he answered.
"We accept! All of the conditions! Thank you. Thank you for giving us this chance!"
Calista gave a slight nod, not surprised in the least, and calmly instructed Leah behind her, "Then prepare for the migration. We'll arrange vehicles and escorts. Remember the promise you made today. Leah, handle the follow-up."
With that, she stopped looking at Marcus and the others, who were relieved yet conflicted, and turned toward the convoy.
Leah immediately stepped forward and began giving specific orders.
Carver looked at Marcus and the others, at their expressions like people who had narrowly survived a disaster, and let out a mocking snort before turning to follow Calista.
He had guessed right.
He jogged a few steps to catch up with Calista, chuckled, and said proudly, "I knew you'd take them in!"
That fit Calista's usual style. She seemed to offer hope, but in reality, she put shackles on people and kept the initiative firmly in her own hands.
Besides, she never took a loss or played the softhearted fool.
Calista turned her head and glanced at Carver, then patted his arm with amusement. "Wow, Carver, you really are getting smart now!
Go help Leah deal with the follow-up. Once the transport team finishes moving the last batch of supplies, leave a few vehicles behind to help them migrate."
"Understood." Encouraged by the praise, Carver turned and left with renewed energy.
...
Under Jonathan and the others' work, the heavy door of the Norris warehouse was completely sealed from the outside with salvaged steel bars and heavy-duty padlocks.
It marked the Cold War relic falling silent once again, and also marked the successful end of Rock Fortress's highly fruitful supply operation.
At the same time, under the organization of Marcus, Knox, and the others, the remaining sixty-one members of the Norris community finished their pitiful "packing."
Their so-called belongings were nothing more than worn bedding, a few changes of clothes, some useless keepsakes, and a small amount of food carefully wrapped up, saved from the biscuits Rock Fortress had given them earlier.
They gathered in the center of the ruined logging camp like a flock of lambs about to be moved elsewhere, their eyes frightened and uneasy, yet carrying a faint hope for an unknown fate.
Calista and Leah left Maya's squad and Hank's squad behind to assist with the migration, while they took Jonathan's squad and most of the vehicles loaded with the final batch of supplies back to Rock Fortress first.
They needed to arrange reception and quarantine in advance.
Before leaving, she said only one thing to Maya and Lieutenant Welles. "Proceed according to plan. Maintain order."
Lieutenant Welles directed the team members to divide the residents of the Norris community into several groups and have them board the emptied transport trucks.
The truck beds were cold and hard, offering no comfort at all. But for people used to struggling on foot through wind and snow, being able to sit inside a vehicle was already an unimaginable luxury.
Led by the lead vehicle driven by Maya, the convoy slowly started moving and left the logging camp.
No one looked back. All that remained there were broken fences, frozen corpses, and grief they could not carry with them.
...
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