Shane shook his head slightly, but his eyes drifted toward the entrance to the second floor.
Guillermo, who was behind him, also came closer and asked with some confusion: "There aren't any walkers around, and the door wasn't even locked. Why hasn't anyone come here to look for supplies? It's so strange!"
"Do you think the people in this area evacuated at the start of the chaos? I highly doubt this is some kind of trap…" Shane sounded unsure, though the chances of a trap were slim. Still, he looked to Rick for answers.
Rick shook his head lightly and pointed at the shelves nearby. "Looks like someone did come here for supplies, but it's been a long time since they did. Look at the ground— even with our numbers, it's unlikely anyone would be waiting in ambush."
Hearing Rick's words, several people looked down and realized that aside from their own fresh footprints, the dusty floor showed no new tracks. Beneath the shelves, however, a series of messy footprints stretched all the way to the door.
Whoever had once known this place must have come to take things, but for some reason they had never returned. And yet, there was still so much food—enough that even a family of ten couldn't finish it in a year.
"Maybe they just weren't lucky…" Morgan said, not seeing anything wrong with the situation. But he also knew that in this world, anything was possible. Perhaps the survivors who had come here died before making it back, turning into walkers themselves.
"Then, since things turned out this way, we need to move quickly!" Rick suddenly said.
Guillermo nodded, pulled out his radio, and called the others carrying backpacks. Soon after, he gave the order and everyone began moving, hauling bags of food toward the military trucks. Even though the bases already had enough supplies, their policy was to clear everything and seal it before it spoiled.
There was plenty of food on the first floor. More than a dozen people were frantically loading shopping carts, especially with condiments. At the base, condiments were scarce. Food wasn't lacking, but meals tasted bland, so whenever they went out, seasonings were always top priority.
While everyone was busy moving supplies, Rick and Shane made their way upstairs. The second floor was dimmer than the first. The two moved between the shelves one after the other, but as soon as they turned the corner, Rick was disappointed—this floor only had clothing and children's toys. Still, after thinking about it, he decided to bring some toys and clothes back for the children at the base.
Shane chuckled, picking up a construction toy. "The kids will definitely like this. All those books aren't much fun— we need to bring some of these along."
Thinking of Carl, Rick couldn't help but smile warmly. "Yeah, they'll like it. Carl should enjoy something like this too."
Soon after, the group left the supermarket. By then, several military trucks were already packed with supplies. Rick stopped Shane, who was about to climb into a vehicle.
"Shane! Take everyone back first. I want to make a short detour. I'll catch up later."
"Where are you going?"
"If you look at the map, there's a small town along the way back. I'll take a detour and check it out." Rick pointed in the direction.
"Sir, then we should all go together!" said a man with a bandana on his head and many tattoos. He and several others were coming out of the supermarket with the last boxes and carts of food. Having overheard Rick's intentions, he couldn't help but get a little excited.
It was his first time going out on a supply run, and he had already gotten so many goods—plus a few things for personal use that he could brag about to his friends. His muscles felt strong enough to take down countless walkers. He looked Rick straight in the eyes, waiting for his answer.
But to his disappointment, Rick shook his head. He patted the man—Miguel—on the shoulder and said with a smile: "I really appreciate it! It's good to work hard, but it won't be necessary this time."
Miguel obeyed with a smile, carrying the supplies to another vehicle. Shane then grabbed Rick's arm and pulled him a few steps aside, clearly puzzled.
"What are you thinking? You think I'll just let you go alone? If something happens to you, how am I supposed to explain it to Lori?" Shane's eyes widened as he stared at Rick, unsure of what was going through his friend's mind.
Seeing Shane so anxious, Rick understood his concern. He softened his words:
"Hey, Shane… Nothing's going to happen. I just want to scout the area. What if someone comes with me?"
"I'll go with him!" Morgan's voice came from behind them. He had been listening, and when he heard Rick wanted to take a detour, he immediately volunteered.
"Morgan! Your wife and son are still waiting for you!" Rick could accept someone else coming, but not Morgan—he didn't want to put him at risk.
Morgan shook his head with a calm smile and explained: "Rick, I've been through hell. I've had countless chances to die, but I didn't. We can help so many more people—that's something my family understands perfectly well."
"Isn't that right? I did good work in Texas. Jason trusted me, and I know what I'm doing."
Hearing Morgan's words, Rick didn't try to persuade him further. Instead, he called over to Guillermo and said: "Alright, then it's settled. The three of us—Guillermo, Morgan, and me—will go. Shane, we'll stay in touch in case anything happens."
This time, Shane didn't insist. After all, Rick was only driving to a small town on the outskirts to scout. The risk wasn't too high. Even if there were infected, it shouldn't be dangerous—unless there was a surprise attack from unknown survivors.
Once the decision was made, the vehicle they would take was stocked with emergency supplies. After a brief farewell, Shane climbed into a truck and led the rest of the group back.
Rick studied the map for a while, chose a route, and then they set off.
Along the way they encountered a few scattered walkers, but nothing serious enough to threaten them. Soon, the small town appeared in the distance.
The sky was heavy with clouds, the sun hidden behind them, casting shadows over the car. As they reached the town's outskirts, they saw the sign at the entrance covered in graffiti.
Rick leaned in for a closer look. Most of it were names of people, along with angry, despairing phrases, mixed with faded words blurred by rain.
Every time they left the prison and returned, it felt different. The Central Base had once been a prison for inmates, but now it had become a massive stronghold. Cities not yet claimed by the community remained abandoned.
Guillermo slowed the car, steering carefully down the town's main street.
There weren't many corpses, but a few were scattered across the road. Unlike the city, there were no billboards plastered everywhere.
Rick's eyes scanned the houses on both sides. He wanted to make sure there weren't other survivors here. The number of people at the base was still growing slowly, largely because every supply run also focused on searching for survivors.
Jason had once told Rick: "Don't worry too much about the bad ones. The best time to gather survivors is in the early days of the apocalypse. Years later, the ones who survive are rarely simple. When your own strength reaches a certain level, they'll fall in line with the trend anyway—along with strict screening of who's allowed in."
Rick, lost in thought, suddenly caught a flash in the corner of his eye. He immediately focused on the window of a nearby building.
A girl in a white dress was standing there, staring out.