Chapter 96: Hershel Joins
The bar in Murter County was hidden behind a patch of withered yellow woods. Most of the neon tubes on the sign were broken, leaving only a "B" that looked like an eye about to close.
Hershel sat in a corner of the bar, a bottle of whiskey before him, more than half of it already gone.
Before the apocalypse, he had promised his wife and children that he would abstain from alcohol; an occasional beer didn't affect his sobriety.
Now, he drank straight from the bottle, gulping it down. When he finished, he slammed the bottle onto the table, liquor spilling from the corners of his mouth and dripping down his stubble onto his collar.
Dale stood at the entrance, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the light inside.
The curtains were all drawn, and only a single kerosene lamp on the bar was lit, casting a dim yellow glow over the entire space.
He saw Hershel's back, walked over, and stood beside him for a moment.
"Mind if I sit?"
Without waiting for an answer, he sat down, took a glass from the bar, filled it, and took a small sip.
The liquor was poor quality, so harsh it made his throat tighten.
Hershel didn't look at him, staring instead at the nearly empty bottle in front of him.
"Are you here to persuade me too?"
Dale set the glass down, his finger slowly tracing the rim.
"No, I'm here to have a drink with you."
Hershel gave a cold laugh and stood up to leave.
Dale reached out to stop him—not forcefully, but firmly.
"Hershel, I know you're hurting. Those family members, those neighbors, that child—you treated them like living people for so long, and then they were gone in an instant. No one could handle that easily."
Hershel's hand gripped the bottle, his knuckles turning white.
"That bastard Shane, he did it right in front of me—"
"I know."
Dale interrupted him. "His methods were too radical. I thought it was excessive too."
He looked into Hershel's eyes. "But ask yourself, now that it's done, hasn't that weight on your heart finally been lifted?"
Hershel's mouth opened, but no words came out.
Dale poured him a drink and pushed it toward him.
"You still have two daughters, and you have Otis and Patricia. If something happens to you, what will they do? If one day they turn into those things, would you want them locked in a barn, waiting for a cure that will never come?"
Hershel picked up the glass and took a large gulp, coughing as it went down the wrong way.
Once he finished coughing, Dale continued:
"You might not know what's happening out there. In central Georgia, there's a place called Terminus.
A group of people there lure survivors in just to kill them and sell them as meat.
The law is gone, the government is gone, and no one is in charge. In this world, the wicked run rampant.
If you don't find someone to back you, what will you and Otis do when a gang of outlaws eventually shows up?
How many could the two of you stop?"
Hershel's finger slowly circled the rim of his glass.
"The Umbrella Corporation isn't a charity, but they have research teams, doctors, teachers, police officers, and security personnel. They are researching a vaccine, clearing out Walkers, and gathering survivors to restore the civilized world. Hershel, they need people like you. If you won't think of yourself, think of Maggie and Beth."
Hershel remained silent for a long time.
He picked up the glass, finished the last drop, and set it down, staring at the amber residue at the bottom.
"I can join, but I have one condition."
Dale looked at him.
"Don't let that bastard Shane show his face in front of me. I don't want to see him again."
Dale smiled and extended his hand.
"I don't think Shane wants to see you either."
The two men shook hands and let go.
Hershel poured the last bit from the bottle into his glass, raised it, and clinked it against Dale's.
"That wasn't easy."
Dale finished his drink and leaned against the bar.
After drinking with this old guy for a week, he could finally report back that the mission was accomplished.
---
Third floor of the CDC.
When Amy pushed the door open and entered, Wu Fan was standing before a map, lost in thought.
She placed the folder in her hand on the desk, her voice carrying a hint of a smile.
"Hershel agreed."
Wu Fan turned around.
"He agreed?"
He walked over and opened the folder. Inside was a handwritten report from Dale. The handwriting was messy, but the content was clear—Hershel Greene had voluntarily joined the Umbrella Corporation to serve as an agricultural consultant.
The condition: no contact or meetings with Shane.
Poor Shane. He really was disliked.
Wu Fan closed the folder and leaned back in his chair.
Hershel, an agricultural expert.
With him, those wastelands could be turned into fertile fields.
With food secured, he could confidently exchange points for the U.B.C.S.
A regular mercenary unit starting at ten thousand men cost five hundred thousand points.
He stared at the ceiling, his mind already beginning to calculate.
Ten thousand men—how much food would they consume daily? How much water?
How many barracks would be needed?
How many training grounds?
What would the ammunition consumption rate be?
What was the casualty replacement rate?
Numbers swirled in his head like the clicking beads of an abacus.
"Have the convoy pick him up and arrange for him to stay in the town for now. Tomorrow, take him to see the surrounding land and determine whether it can be farmed. Have him train some people in agricultural knowledge, and let him make a list of what can be planted and what needs soil improvement."
Amy nodded and turned to leave.
Wu Fan stood up and walked to the window.
Below, a Humvee was driving out of the main gate, a machine gun mounted on its roof and the red-and-white Umbrella logo printed on its side.
That was the vehicle going to fetch Hershel.
Watching the vehicle disappear at the end of the highway, Wu Fan sent for Jackie to come up and see him.
Jackie arrived at Wu Fan's office without delay.
Wu Fan looked at the woman before him; her face was thinner and her skin darker. He felt a few seconds of guilt before returning to normal.
"Jackie, now that the CDC perimeter wall is nearing completion and we have enough manpower, I've seen your hard work over these past few months. I am now appointing you as the Head of Construction. Go select some people among the survivors who have construction site experience to be your subordinates. Distribute the work to them in the future; you don't need to monitor everything yourself at all times."
Jackie suppressed her excitement. The Umbrella Corporation was increasingly showing signs of becoming a regional hegemon that would eventually replace the government as a new authority. Her investment over these past few months had been the right decision; her position would be even higher in the future, and no one wanted to remain a low-level grunt forever.
Jackie smiled slightly to express her gratitude for Wu Fan's recognition, promising that she would continue to work hard.
Wu Fan pointed to central Georgia, specifically the place Captain James Shade and the others had occupied: Robins Air Force Base.
"James and his team have reclaimed Robins Air Force Base. I need you to lead a construction crew there to replace the wire fences with concrete walls. The defensive crossfire points need to be improved, primarily to defend against Walker hordes."
With the daily noise of helicopters and the roar of fighter jets taking off, it would be a miracle if the surrounding Walker hordes weren't attracted.
Jackie nodded, indicating that she would go there to survey the surrounding terrain and design a plan.
Wu Fan nodded, and after exchanging a few pleasantries with Jackie, she turned and left.