CDC, 3rd Floor.
Rick Grimes stood in the hallway, looking down at the T-shirt he was wearing—it was something Dr. Gail had dug out of a storage room, gray, with a faded line of text on the chest: "Atlanta Police Charity Association."
It was a bit loose on him, but much better than a hospital gown.
He took a deep breath and walked up to that door.
Knock, knock, knock.
The door opened from the inside, and a young girl's face poked out.
Amy, the girl who called herself the "Life Secretary," was wearing a light blue shirt today, her hair tied in a ponytail, looking capable and fresh.
"Rick?"
Amy blinked. "Is something the matter?"
Rick nodded, his voice a bit hoarse. "I want to see Wu Fan, I want to ask about my wife and son."
Amy looked at him, a flash of sympathy in her eyes.
This man came to ask every single day, and every day it was the same question.
She had seen it too many times already.
"My sister took people to the quarry this morning," Amy said. "They went to pick up your wife and son. They should be back very soon."
Rick was stunned.
"They went to get them?"
"Yes."
Amy nodded. "The BOSS arranged it. You just wait here, don't worry."
Rick opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but finally only managed to squeeze out, "Thank you."
He turned around and slowly walked down the stairs.
Every step was slow.
It wasn't that his legs hadn't recovered, but rather he didn't know how to hurry.
First-floor lobby.
The rolling shutter was down, but the small door next to it was open.
Sunlight filtered through the gap in the door, drawing a bright line on the floor.
Rick walked out and stood at the main entrance.
The parking lot was empty.
Outside the chain-link fence, a few wandering Walkers were swaying in the distance, occasionally letting out a groan or two.
Further away, the Atlanta skyline was shrouded in a faint haze.
Rick leaned against the doorframe, staring at the dirt road leading to the quarry.
Waiting.
Third-floor office.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Come in."
Amy pushed the door open, carrying a cup of coffee.
Wu Fan was looking down at a map—a detailed map of Kentucky, with several circles and some question marks marked in red ink.
"BOSS, coffee."
Amy placed the cup on the table.
Wu Fan raised his head and took a sip of the coffee.
The temperature was just right, and the ratio of milk to sugar was perfect.
This girl certainly remembered his tastes clearly.
"Who was that outside just now?" he asked.
"Rick," Amy said. "He came to ask about his wife and child again. I told him Andrea went to get them today."
Wu Fan nodded and took another sip of coffee. "Well done."
Amy's eyes rolled, and she walked to the table, sitting sideways on the edge of the desk.
Her hip-hugging skirt outlined the curves of her waist, and her high heels dangled in the air, swaying gently.
"So—is there a reward?"
She tilted her head, smiling like a fox.
Wu Fan put down the coffee cup and looked at her.
This girl was getting bolder and bolder.
He cleared his throat. "Come to my room tonight. I'll give you a—sufficiently large reward."
Amy's eyes lit up.
She suddenly reached out, grabbed Wu Fan's tie, and pulled him toward her. "Not enough."
Wu Fan didn't indulge her.
He picked her up and gave her hip-hugging skirt a pat. "Don't be too greedy. You won't be able to handle it tonight."
Amy's face flushed slightly, but she didn't yield. "I don't believe it."
She wiggled out of his arms, straightened her clothes, walked to the door, and looked back at him.
In that look, there was amusement, anticipation, and something else indescribable.
Then she opened the door and left.
Wu Fan leaned back in his chair, fished a pack of cigarettes out of the drawer, and lit one.
He took a deep drag, and the smoke slowly dissipated in the air.
He stared at the ceiling, turning random thoughts over in his mind.
When it comes to women, one must maintain control.
You can't let your pants dictate your decision-making.
You can be affectionate, but not brainless.
You can enjoy yourself, but you can't be led by the nose.
More women will surely come in the future.
There will be beautiful ones, smart ones, and ambitious ones.
How he treats them is how they will treat him.
Must be careful.
Don't get killed by some honey trap one day; that would be truly unjust.
Knock, knock, knock.
The door opened again.
Amy poked her head in. "BOSS, Edwin is here, he says he wants to see you."
Wu Fan snubbed out the cigarette. "Let him in."
Edwin Jenner walked in, looking unwell.
He was wearing a lab coat and holding a stack of papers, his brow furrowed so tightly it could crush a fly.
"BOSS."
He placed the documents on the table. "There is some bad news."
Wu Fan picked up the files and flipped through them.
They were all data tables, which he didn't quite understand, but he grasped the general meaning.
"Everyone is carrying the pathogen?" he asked.
Edwin was stunned. "You know?"
"I guessed," Wu Fan said, putting the files down. "Tell me more specifically."
Edwin took a deep breath and began to explain. "I've been doing blood tests on everyone for the past few days—the newcomers, the old staff, including myself. It turns out everyone has the Project Wildfire virus antibodies in their system... No, that's not right, it should be the pathogen itself. It's dormant in everyone's body, lying in wait to be activated."
He paused, emphasizing his tone. "Everyone, without exception."
Wu Fan nodded. "I know."
Edwin was stunned again.
He stared at Wu Fan, his eyes full of confusion. "How do you know?"
Wu Fan took out that Umbrella Corporation ID card and tapped it on the table.
Edwin looked at the red and white card and realized in a flash.
Ah, yes.
This man worked for a biological company even more secretive than the CDC and specialized in researching this stuff. Could he not know?
"Then do you know how it gets activated?" Edwin asked. "Why do some people turn in a few days, while others take a few minutes?"
Wu Fan leaned back in his chair and engaged his "bullshit mode."
He had to thank the eleven seasons of The Walking Dead he had watched in his previous life.
"This virus was released by someone on purpose," he said, his tone as flat as if he were discussing the weather. "It doesn't actively attack the host; it lies dormant after entering the human body. But as soon as the host dies—whether it's a natural death or an accident—the virus wakes up."
Edwin listened intently.
"After the host dies, the virus takes over the brain, which has lost its immunity, and controls the central nervous system, turning the host into a Walker," Wu Fan continued. "Then, the virus multiplies rapidly inside the Walker. If it bites someone, the virus enters the new host's bloodstream through saliva and activates the virus that was originally dormant in the new host."
He reached out and made a gesture. "That is why some people turn minutes after being bitten, while others can hold on for hours—it depends on the location of the wound, the severity of the bite, and individual constitution, but the result is the same."
Edwin took a deep breath, digesting this information.
"So, what we need to do now..." he said, "is to research a vaccine. Or at least, research a way to suppress the virus."
Wu Fan nodded.
Edwin opened the file, pointing to one of the pages. "We need more Walker samples. We've drained the blood of the previous ones, and the tissue fluid has been extracted too. Now only the brains are left un-dissected—I want to keep them for further research."
"Then catch new ones."
Edwin smiled bitterly. "Easier said than done. The Walkers around here are getting fewer and fewer; they've all been wiped out by the clearance team. To catch live ones, and healthy ones at that, we have to go further out."
Wu Fan thought for a moment and nodded. "Got it. I'll have someone go out and catch a few later."
Edwin breathed a sigh of relief. "That's good."
He stood up, walked to the door, and turned back. "By the way, BOSS, that man named Rick has been waiting at the entrance; he's been there for almost two hours."
Wu Fan walked to the window and looked down.
At the main entrance, Rick was leaning against the doorframe, staring at the dirt road in the distance, motionless.
"Let him wait," Wu Fan said. "His wife and son are arriving today."
Edwin nodded and pushed the door open to leave.
Wu Fan stood by the window, watching Rick's back.
This man had experienced so much in the original show—losing his wife, losing friends, losing his humanity, and finding it again.
He led a group of people from Atlanta to Alexandria, transforming from a post-apocalyptic novice into a survival expert.
But right now, he was just a husband waiting for his wife and child, a father.
Wu Fan finished the last drag of his cigarette and snubbed it out in the ashtray.
Downstairs, at the end of the dirt road, dust was kicking up.
The convoy had returned.