The arguing at the quarry had been going on for a full ten minutes.
"You useless thing! What can you do besides eat!"
Ed's roar echoed across the empty quarry.
His face was flushed, veins bulging, and he raised his fist to strike his wife again.
Carol curled up on the ground, holding her head, without saying a word.
She was too thin, skinny as a stick of firewood, and Ed's fists thudded dully against her back.
"Enough!"
Shane rushed out from the crowd, grabbed Ed by the collar, and flung him away.
Ed stumbled a few steps, fell to the ground, and couldn't get up for a long time.
"Who the hell do you think you are?"
Shane glared down at him, his chest heaving violently: "You don't go out to find supplies, you don't work, and all you know how to do is beat your wife? I've put up with you for too long!"
Ed sat on the ground, his lips trembling, wanting to retort but not daring to.
His eyes darted around, looking for someone to speak up for him, but everyone around was just watching coldly.
No one helped him.
Before the apocalypse, Ed was just an unemployed, decadent middle-aged man who relied on his wife, Carol, to support him with odd jobs.
Even back then, people had plenty of complaints about him—a grown man, physically fit, not going out to work, just staying home all day drinking and beating his wife; what kind of person was that?
After the apocalypse, everyone had to fight for survival, but only he remained the same.
He didn't go out to scavenge for supplies, didn't participate in night watch, and didn't do any physical labor.
Every day, he just waited for the meager food Carol received for working in the camp, then ate, slept, and woke up to beat his wife.
"How is this guy still alive?"
This was the general sentiment whispered around the camp.
Now, Shane had finally taken action.
Ed scrambled up from the ground, not daring to look at Shane, but turned his anger towards Carol, who had just stood up: "You damn woman! It's all your fault! If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have—"
"Enough!"
Carol suddenly shouted.
Ed froze.
Everyone froze.
That thin, silent woman who always kept her head down looked up, and for the first time, there was something different in her eyes.
She didn't say anything more, just wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth, walked to the side, squatted down, hugged her knees, and buried her face in her arms.
Shane stared at Ed, wanting to say more, when suddenly—
"Shane! There's a car coming!"
Glenn's shout came from the top of the RV.
Everyone turned their heads at the same time.
In the distance, at the end of the dirt road, a black humvee was driving toward the quarry.
The car body reflected a cold, hard light in the sun, a machine gun was mounted on the roof, and there was a striking red logo on the door—
That umbrella.
"It's the people from that day!"
Someone shouted.
"They're back!"
"Andrea! Is that Andrea coming back?"
The crowd became restless, filled with anticipation, nervousness, and a complex mix of indescribable emotions.
The humvee stopped at the entrance of the quarry.
The doors opened, and fully armed Soldiers jumped out one after another.
Black combat uniforms, bulletproof vests, M4 rifles—exactly the same as that day.
Finally, one female Soldier took off her helmet.
Short blonde hair, determined eyes, and a slightly upturned mouth.
"Andrea!"
Several women screamed at the same time.
It really was her!
Andrea strode toward the crowd, and those women who had once endured the hard days together immediately crowded around her.
"Oh my god, Andrea, it's really you!"
"This outfit—did you join the military?"
"How is it over there? What did they do to you?"
"What about Amy? Is Amy okay?"
A torrent of questions poured in from all sides.
Andrea raised her hand to signal everyone to be quiet.
She looked around at the familiar faces, a complex emotion welling up in her heart.
"I'm doing well."
She said, her voice clear and firm: "Amy is doing well too, and over there—it's much better than we imagined."
"What do you mean by much better?"
Someone asked.
Andrea began to explain.
The CDC facilities.
Hot showers.
Clean beds.
Plenty of food.
Fully armed security.
Scientific researchers studying vaccines.
And that underground world.
But she didn't mention the Hive—that was classified.
"So you're really living like you did before the apocalypse?"
A middle-aged woman asked in disbelief.
"Pretty much."
Andrea nodded: "At least, you don't have to worry every day about being bitten to death while you sleep."
Gasps of amazement erupted from the crowd.
Just then, Jackie pushed to the front and asked eagerly: "Andrea, I—I used to work in the urban planning department. Does your company—Umbrella Corporation—need someone in that position?"
Andrea looked at her and thought for a moment: "I'm not sure about that, but I suggest you come back with me first. The BOSS will arrange work based on everyone's strengths. Even if there isn't a perfectly matched position, there will always be something you can do."
Jackie hesitated for a moment, then nodded firmly: "Okay! I'll go with you!"
"We want to join too!"
A middle-aged man walked over, pulling his wife and two children.
Morales, the man who had always been quiet and unassuming, now had a face full of determination.
"Andrea, my wife Miranda, daughter Eliza, and son Louis want to join."
"I have to think about them. I've had enough of this precarious life of sleeping rough. You standing here alive is the best proof."
Miranda held the children's hands tightly, her eyes full of anticipation.
Andrea nodded: "Welcome."
"And me!"
T-Dog squeezed over, waving his hand high: "I want to join the security department! I'm young, strong, and I can learn!"
"Count me in too!"
Jim stepped forward. This taciturn middle-aged man rarely spoke up: "I used to be a mechanic. You have cars, right? You need people to maintain and modify them, right? I can do that."
Andrea nodded to each of them, silently keeping track of the number of people.
More and more people stepped forward.
Dale, the nice old guy, touched his RV, a bit reluctant, but still said: "Count me in! Living alone is meaningless."
Several young men and women also expressed their interest.
In the blink of an eye, two-thirds of the people at the quarry had stood on Andrea's side.
Those who hadn't expressed their stance were either hesitant, watching from the sidelines, or—like Shane—standing there with a livid face, saying nothing.
Shane watched the people scrambling to sign up, his heart a turmoil of mixed emotions.
Anger.
Unwillingness.
And a hint of something he didn't even want to admit—jealousy.
He had worked so hard to maintain this camp, racking his brain every day to find supplies, pacify people, and resolve conflicts.
He had done so much, yet these people still chose to leave.
And that so-called Umbrella Corporation, they had only driven up in an armored vehicle, said a few nice words, and made some empty promises—yet these people flocked to them.