Chapter 12 Mine Recruitment
The morning sun lazily shone on the mine, gilding the rusty mining equipment with a golden hue.
Sean crawled out of the tent and stretched comfortably.
He glanced back into the tent—under the thin blanket, the curves of Lori Grimes' body were faintly visible. She was still fast asleep, her golden hair scattered on the inflatable pillow, her breathing even.
Sean felt a complicated sense of guilt. He had never intended for things to go this far. He only wanted to escape with Rick and his family, but everything had spiraled out of control.
A voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Good morning, Sean."
Dale Horvath walked over, wearing his fishing vest and familiar concerned expression.
"Sean, supplies are running low. When do you plan to organize a search?"
Sean frowned. "We just collected supplies four days ago."
"There are too many people," Dale replied. "How long can canned goods last?"
Sean sighed. He knew Dale was right, but going outside was dangerous—full of those creatures.
"I'll figure something out," he said.
Dale nodded and left.
Sean looked over the camp. This was his responsibility now—a fragile kingdom of survivors.
Just then, Morales shouted from the RV roof.
"Hey Sean! A vehicle's coming! An armored vehicle!"
Sean's head snapped up.
A black armored vehicle approached the camp.
His heart tightened.
He had seen military vehicles before. When they appeared, trouble followed.
"Everyone hide!" Sean shouted, pulling out his Glock.
The camp erupted in panic.
The armored vehicle stopped at the entrance.
The engine cut off.
Doors opened.
Armed men in black combat uniforms stepped out in formation, rifles raised.
Sean's palms sweated.
Then a man in a suit stepped forward.
He looked out of place in the apocalypse—clean, composed, calm.
"Who's in charge here?" he asked.
Sean stood up.
"It's me. Who are you?"
The man pulled out a card.
"Wu Fan. Umbrella Corporation, Atlanta office manager."
Sean frowned. "Never heard of it."
"You will," Wu Fan replied. "I came for people."
"People?" Sean repeated.
"Yes. Humanity is collapsing. Atlanta is gone. Millions are already infected."
He gestured to his men. "They used to be ordinary survivors. Now they are security personnel. Food, shelter, medical care—they have everything."
Murmurs spread through the camp.
Sean raised his voice. "Don't listen to him! This could be a trap!"
Wu Fan sighed and signaled to his men.
A laptop was brought forward.
A video played—Atlanta, overrun by Walkers, streets filled with endless hordes.
Silence fell over the camp.
"Do you really think this mine will hold out?" Wu Fan asked.
No one answered.
Then two girls stepped forward.
"We're in," Andrea said.
"Amy, don't!" someone shouted.
But they didn't stop.
They signed the contracts.
Wu Fan accepted them calmly. "Take them to the vehicle."
He looked back at the crowd. "Anyone else?"
Silence.
Sean clenched his fists.
Behind him, Lori watched quietly, torn between fear and hope.
Wu Fan finally turned away.
"You will thank me," he said.
The armored vehicle left the mine, disappearing down the road.
Sean stood still, watching it go.
And for the first time, doubt spread through the camp.