Chapter 55: Breaking Through Two Hundred Security Personnel
There were more new arrivals than expected.
The original estimate was just over two hundred people, but once the families of National Guard soldiers and civilians hiding in warehouses outside the camp were included, the total reached three hundred and twenty-one.
With the nearly three hundred people already at the base, the CDC's population had suddenly surpassed five hundred overnight.
From the third-floor window, Wu Fan looked down at the crowd queued for food in the open ground and felt, for the first time, that the building had become too small.
Because the canteen couldn't handle the numbers, several large pots had been set up outdoors.
The smell of oatmeal porridge drifted upward, mixing with disinfectant and forming a strange, post-apocalyptic atmosphere.
Inside the building, things were even more crowded.
The quarantine area was full. Every room on the second, third, and fourth floors had been occupied, with temporary cots lining the corridors.
Even the first-floor lobby was covered with sleeping bags. People had to walk carefully, stepping sideways to avoid stepping on limbs or waking someone.
The situation in the basement was even worse.
What had once been a CDC laboratory had been converted into living quarters. People were now pushed down to the third basement level of the Hive.
Beds were packed so tightly that turning around was difficult.
Some snored. Some talked in their sleep. Others woke up crying in the middle of the night, only to be shouted at to shut up—then reduced to silent sobbing.
The Red Queen's surveillance cameras rotated silently in the four corners of the basement, their red lights like unblinking eyes.
Amy and several security personnel took shifts every two hours, patrolling the corridors with flashlights—watching for fever, nightmares, or anyone wandering at night.
The three-day quarantine could not afford a single mistake.
Wu Fan rubbed his brow, exhaustion filling his eyes.
This was only the beginning.
How much food does five hundred people consume each day?
How much water?
How many medical supplies?
The walls needed expanding. Housing needed building. Training grounds needed enlarging. Even the sewage system had to be upgraded.
Problems piled up like a tidal wave, leaving no room to breathe.
But the benefits were just as real.
More than 140 additional security personnel.
The original handful of defenders had been overstretched. Now, at least, they could rotate shifts properly.
Wu Fan glanced at the system panel. The fluctuating points brought a faint, rare smile to his lips.
On the open ground, the newcomers lined up with bowls in hand.
The oatmeal porridge was thick enough to stand a spoon upright. Each person received a bowl and half a steamed bun.
At the front of the line, Lieutenant Wells stared at the steaming porridge for a long moment before finally taking a sip.
It was hot.
So hot it stung his eyes.
He couldn't even remember the last time he had eaten hot food.
At the refugee camp, the best ration had been dry compressed biscuits soaked in water. Sometimes even those ran out, and people had to suck on them until they softened like medicine.
He walked to the side and sat down, eating slowly.
An elderly woman sat nearby, her white hair trembling as she struggled to hold her spoon. Half her porridge spilled onto her clothes, but she kept eating without complaint.
Nearby, a young man tried to help her, but she refused.
Wells looked around.
An old man in a wheelchair. A toddler learning to walk. A pregnant woman with a swollen belly.
All of them were eating.
All of them were alive.
A realization slowly settled in him—coming here had been the right choice.
"Excuse me…"
A young woman holding a bowl approached hesitantly.
"I heard there's an underground city here. Is that true?"
Wells paused. "I'm new here too. I don't know much."
A nearby security guard overheard and answered, "It's true. Under this building. It's called the Hive. There are floors underground, just like above. Houses, lawns, even a school."
The woman's eyes lit up. "If I join the security team, can my daughter live there too?"
"You'll need to pass the evaluation," the guard said. "But even if you don't, conditions upstairs are already improving. See over there?"
He pointed toward the distant construction site.
"Once the wall is finished, the entire CDC will be safe. Then we'll expand outward."
People nearby began to listen. Some had already started asking how to join security.
Wells said nothing and continued eating.
In the afternoon, Amy set up tables in the open area and shouted through a megaphone:
"Fill out the forms! Write down your previous jobs, skills, anything you can do! If you can't write, find someone who can help!"
The crowd surged forward.
Some filled forms immediately. Others hesitated, staring blankly at what value their old skills had in this new world.
A middle-aged man with glasses stood at the edge, holding his form.
Before the apocalypse, he had been a marketing director earning a high salary.
Now the word "marketing" felt meaningless.
He wrote it down, then crossed it out.
He wrote "management," then crossed it out again.
Finally, he submitted a blank sheet.
"I don't have any skills," he said bitterly. "But I can work. Move bricks. Dig soil. Carry sandbags. Anything, as long as I can stay."
Amy glanced at him and nodded.
"Go report to Sean. Security department needs manpower."
The man froze, then quickly walked off.
Others who heard it followed immediately.
"I want to join too!"
"Me as well!"
"I served in the military!"
Soon, Sean was surrounded.
He said nothing, simply registered names and backgrounds.
Those who could use weapons went left. Those who couldn't went right.
The right side trained immediately—push-ups, sit-ups, shuttle runs.
Weak candidates were filtered out.
In the end, more than 200 applicants resulted in 140 recruits.
Combined with the original personnel, the base now had over 180 security members.
From the third-floor window, Wu Fan watched everything unfold, calculating rapidly.
Eight teams.
Each with about twenty-five people.
Four teams for external clearing operations.
Two teams for perimeter defense and gate security.
Two teams for rotation rest.
A seven-day rotation cycle—no slack allowed.
He wrote the structure down on paper.
Team 1–2: clearance operations, led by Merle and Daryl.
Team 3–4: area sweeps, led by Rick and Glenn.
Team 5–6: defense units, led by Sean and Andrea.
Team 7–8: reserve defense, led by Sandra and Wells.
The system was beginning to take shape.
By the time he looked up again, it was already night.
Amy placed a cup of coffee beside him.
"Still working?"
"Mm."
"Everything arranged?"
"Yes," she replied. "The basement is full too. The Red Queen is monitoring it. No problems."
Wu Fan nodded and looked out the window.
The courtyard was empty. Pots were stacked upside down to keep rats away.
In the distance, construction lights still flickered. Workers were still pouring concrete through the night.
He leaned back and closed his eyes.
Five hundred people.
Two hundred security personnel.
Eight squads.
The walls rising. The containers stacking. The Hive expanding layer by layer.
Outside: Walkers. Raiders. And another wave of disaster waiting somewhere in the dark.
But at least today—
Everyone inside was alive.
Fed.
And had a place to sleep.
"Amy."
"Hmm?"
"Tell the kitchen to add more meat tomorrow. The newcomers haven't eaten properly in a long time."
Amy smiled softly.
"Okay."
She turned and left.
At the door, she glanced back.
Wu Fan had already lowered his head again, studying the map under the dim light. Outside, the wind moved gently through the night, and somewhere far away, a Walker's roar echoed briefly—then faded into silence.