Lee picked up a tray and moved along the serving counter, looking over the food laid out for breakfast.
There were scrambled eggs, several strips of bacon and a generous serving of fried potatoes, browned and lightly seasoned. He also took a cup of coffee before stepping aside to let the next person approach.
"Thank you," he said to the woman serving the food.
"You're welcome. Enjoy your breakfast."
Lee gave her a small smile before looking around the dining area. The room was already filled with people, some eating at the tables while others waited in line or talked among themselves. It was a welcome change from the motel, where every meal had involved dividing whatever little food they had left.
He took another look around, searching for a familiar face.
"Lee!"
He turned at the sound of his name and spotted Clementine approaching him. She was carrying something in her hands, and judging by the excitement on her face, she couldn't wait to show him.
"Hey, sweet pea. What's up?"
"Look what I got!"
She held up a small stuffed rabbit. It was light brown, with long ears and a little stitched nose. One of its ears flopped to the side, giving it a slightly lopsided appearance.
"Another kid gave it to me," she explained, smiling. "She said she didn't play with it anymore, and that I could have it."
Lee looked at the toy and then back at Clementine. Seeing how happy she was made him smile.
"That's really nice of her. Looks like you've got yourself a new friend."
Clementine nodded enthusiastically, holding the rabbit a little closer.
"I'm gonna call him Mr. Hops."
Lee chuckled.
"Mr. Hops? I like it."
He glanced at the serving counter and then back at her.
"Why don't you go get yourself some breakfast? I'm sure there's plenty left."
"Okay!"
Clementine turned and headed towards the counter, still holding her new toy.
The woman serving the food had watched their little interaction and smiled as Clementine approached.
"Good morning, sweetheart. What would you like?"
Lee watched as Clementine reached the counter and began choosing her breakfast. The woman serving her smiled and placed a generous portion of eggs and potatoes on her tray, along with a couple of strips of bacon.
Clementine thanked her before carefully picking up her tray, making sure Mr. Hops was tucked safely under one arm.
Lee waited until she had everything before taking another look around the dining area. After a moment, he spotted a familiar group gathered around one of the tables.
Carley, Mark, Kenny, Katjaa, Duck, Ben and Lilly were already seated, with Duck apparently in the middle of telling everyone something. His hands moved enthusiastically as he spoke, occasionally making exaggerated gestures that seemed to amuse him more than anyone else.
Kenny sat beside Katjaa, listening with a faint smile while she kept an eye on their son. Ben was eating quietly, while Mark and Carley appeared to be having a conversation with Lilly.
Lee started walking towards them.
"Come on, Clementine. They're over there."
She followed him, carefully balancing her tray as they made their way between the tables.
Lee and Clementine approached the table, where the others were already seated with their breakfasts.
"Hey, guys," Lee greeted them.
"Morning," Kenny replied, briefly looking up from his plate. Katjaa offered them a friendly smile, while Carley and Mark shifted slightly to make room.
"Morning, Lee. Clementine," Carley said.
"Hi," Clementine answered, taking a seat beside Lee.
Carley turned back towards Mark and Lilly, picking up their earlier conversation.
"I still can't get over this place," she said, looking around the dining hall. "It actually feels like a town. I never thought something like this would still be possible after everything that's happened."
"It's because they've got the security to make it work," Lilly pointed out. "Those HESCO walls surrounding the settlement, the soldiers guarding the entrances and patrolling the streets. They clearly know what they're doing."
"And they've got plenty of food," Mark added, glancing down at his breakfast. "That's probably the most important part."
Carley chuckled. "That too. But the showers, the clean clothes... I don't think I've appreciated a hot shower this much in my entire life."
"Tell me about it," Mark agreed. "I almost didn't want to get out."
Their conversation was interrupted when Duck noticed the stuffed rabbit tucked under Clementine's arm.
"Hey, what's that?" he asked, leaning forward to get a better look.
Clementine glanced down at Mr. Hops before pulling him a little closer.
"It's my rabbit."
"Can I see him?"
Clementine hesitated. "I don't know..."
"Come on, I just want to look!"
"Duck," Katjaa said, giving her son a warning look. "Leave Clementine alone and get back to your seat. You still have breakfast to finish."
"But I just wanted to see it!"
"You can ask her again later. Now eat your food."
Duck reluctantly settled back in his chair, though he continued glancing at the rabbit from time to time. Clementine kept Mr. Hops safely in her lap, looking rather pleased that she had managed to keep hold of him.
While the two children were distracted, the others returned to their breakfast and conversation.
"Can't say I blame the kid," Kenny remarked, taking another bite. "Haven't seen Duck this excited about anything in a while."
Katjaa smiled faintly. "He's been enjoying himself since we got here. I think we all have."
"It's nice to see people actually living again," Mark said. "Not just hiding behind locked doors and hoping nothing gets in."
"Yeah," Carley agreed. "People walking around, working, having meals together. Almost makes you forget what's waiting outside those walls."
"Almost," Lilly replied, her expression remaining serious. "But we shouldn't forget. This place is safe because people are making sure it stays that way."
Kenny nodded. "She's got a point. I'm just glad there's somewhere we can finally catch our breath for a change."
Lee listened quietly, glancing around the table. For once, nobody seemed particularly eager to leave or worried about what might happen next. They were simply sitting together, eating breakfast and talking about something other than survival.
It was a welcome change.
The conversation gradually shifted as they continued eating, with Mark glancing around the dining hall before speaking again.
"So, what do you guys think you'll do now?" he asked. "I mean, assuming we're staying here for a while."
"That's a good question," Carley replied. "I suppose we'll have to find something useful to do. Can't exactly spend the rest of our lives sitting around eating breakfast."
"Speak for yourself," Kenny said, earning a small smile from Katjaa.
Carley laughed. "I'm serious. They must need people to help run this place."
"They probably do," Lilly said. "A settlement this size needs people to organize supplies, maintain security, keep track of who's coming and going. There has to be plenty of work."
"You sound like you already have a job in mind," Mark remarked.
Lilly shrugged. "I was in the military. I know how to organize people, maintain discipline and handle security. I could probably help with that."
"Assuming they'll let you," Kenny commented.
Lilly gave him a look. "And why wouldn't they?"
"Just saying. They've already got their own people in charge."
"I know that," Lilly replied, a little more sharply than she probably intended. "I'm not saying I should be running the place. But I know what I'm doing, and I'm not particularly interested in sitting around waiting for someone to tell me what I'm allowed to do."
Carley raised her eyebrows slightly but didn't comment.
Mark took another bite before speaking. "Well, I used to work in supply. Air Force. Keeping track of equipment, inventory, making sure the right things got where they needed to go. I imagine they could use someone with that kind of experience."
"Sounds useful," Kenny said.
"Hopefully. It's not exactly exciting work, but somebody has to do it."
"What about you, Carley?" Lee asked.
She considered the question for a moment. "I was a reporter. Before all this, anyway. I don't know how much use a journalist is in a place like this, but I suppose I could help keep records or pass information around. Maybe document what's happening here."
"Could probably write a few things about how we ended up here," Mark suggested.
"I'm sure there's plenty to write about," Carley replied with a faint smile.
Kenny leaned back slightly, looking down at his plate. "Me? I used to fish. Worked on boats, spent most of my time out on the water."
"You wanted to go to Savannah, didn't you?" Katjaa asked.
"Yeah. Thought I might find a boat there. Something I could sail out of here with." He gave a small shrug. "Doesn't seem like much point thinking about that anymore, though. Can't exactly go fishing around here."
"You could still help with maintenance," Mark offered. "Boats, equipment, that sort of thing. If they've got any."
"Maybe," Kenny said, though he didn't sound particularly convinced.
For a moment, he seemed lost in thought before returning his attention to his breakfast.
Lee had been listening quietly, occasionally glancing towards Clementine and Duck. The two were still occupied with their own little conversation, although Duck was now trying to convince her to let him hold Mr. Hops.
"What about you, Lee?" Carley asked, turning towards him. "I remember you mentioning that you used to teach at the University of Georgia."
Lee looked up from his plate, momentarily caught off guard by the question.
"Yeah. I was a history professor there."
"Must have been interesting," Mark remarked. "I imagine you had quite a few students."
"It had its moments," Lee replied, managing a faint smile.
"Bet that's a different kind of classroom now," Kenny commented.
Lee let out a quiet breath, his expression becoming a little more reserved.
"Yeah. I suppose it is."
Carley noticed the slight change in his expression but didn't pursue the subject. Instead, she returned to her breakfast, allowing the conversation to move on.
Ben, who had been listening quietly, shifted in his seat.
"Um... I heard something about the soldiers," he began.
The others turned towards him.
"What about them?" Lilly asked.
"Well, I mean... I heard they rescued my friends. The ones I told you about." He paused, seemingly unsure how to explain himself. "Apparently, they found them and got them somewhere safe. And those bandits... the soldiers dealt with them, so they shouldn't be a problem anymore."
"That's good news," Carley said.
"Yeah." Ben nodded. "I just... I didn't really know what happened to them after we got separated. I thought they might still be out there, or..." He trailed off, looking down at his plate. "I'm glad they're okay."
"Those soldiers seem to have things under control," Mark remarked. "They've done a lot for this place, from what we've seen."
"Yeah, they have," Ben agreed quietly.
Listening to the conversation, Lee began thinking about how different things might have been if they hadn't encountered the soldiers. For the first time in a long while, the group had somewhere to stay and the possibility of doing more than simply surviving.
Carley took another sip of her coffee before glancing towards the other end of the dining hall.
"Speaking of finding something to do, how's your father settling in, Lilly?"
Lilly let out a long, weary sigh.
"Don't ask."
Carley raised her eyebrows, looking mildly amused. "That bad?"
"Worse. Apparently, he's found himself someone to talk to."
"Someone?"
"Her name's Mary. I think she works around here, helping with the settlement. He's been talking to her whenever he gets the chance."
Kenny glanced up from his plate, a faint grin appearing on his face.
"Well, good for him. Didn't think Larry was the type to make friends so quickly."
"That's not exactly what I'd call it," Lilly muttered.
Carley tried to hide her amusement. "Oh?"
"He keeps finding excuses to talk to her. Yesterday, he was asking her all sorts of questions about what she does around here. Then he started telling her about himself."
"Maybe he's just being friendly," Mark suggested.
Lilly gave him a look.
"Trust me. You'd know if you heard him."
Kenny chuckled. "Sounds like Larry's keeping himself busy, at least."
"Yeah, well, I wish he'd find something else to keep him occupied," Lilly replied, shaking her head.
Carley smiled into her coffee, clearly finding the situation rather amusing.
The conversation continued for a little while longer, with Carley occasionally glancing towards Lilly whenever the subject of her father came up. Lilly seemed eager to move on from it, and eventually the discussion returned to the settlement and what everyone might do once they had settled in.
A little movement near the entrance caught Kenny's attention.
He looked up from his plate and noticed a familiar man walking into the dining hall. Shane was dressed in his police gear, wearing a tactical vest with his sidearm secured at his hip and a rifle slung over his shoulder. He looked around the room, apparently searching for someone.
"Hey, isn't that the guy who was with the soldiers when they found us?" Kenny asked.
Lee followed his gaze and recognized him immediately.
"Yeah. Shane, I think his name was."
"What do you suppose he wants?" Mark wondered, watching as Shane continued looking across the dining hall.
They soon got their answer. Shane spotted their table and began walking towards them.
As he approached, the conversation gradually died down. Lilly looked up at him, while Kenny leaned back slightly in his chair.
"Morning," Shane greeted them when he reached the table.
"Morning," Lee replied.
"Sorry to interrupt your breakfast," Shane said, glancing briefly around the table. "I've been asked to speak with Mark and Lilly. Shouldn't take too long."
Mark looked up at him. "What about?"
"Robins Air Force Base. I understand you both used to work there."
"Yeah, I was stationed there," Mark confirmed.
"I worked there too," Lilly added. "I was an Air Force Administrative Officer."
Shane nodded. "That's actually why I'm here. The military is looking into the possibility of retaking the base, and before they make any decisions, they want to know if there might still be survivors there. People who managed to find somewhere secure and barricade themselves inside."
Mark thought for a moment before answering.
"When the base was overrun, a few of us managed to get into the commissary storage area. We barricaded the entrance and stayed there for a while. Eventually, I decided to leave, but the others wanted to remain inside. They thought it was safer than trying to get through the base."
"How many people were there?" Shane asked.
"Several. I don't remember the exact number, but there were more than just two or three. Some military personnel, and I think there were civilians too."
"Do you remember where that storage area was?"
"Yeah. I could probably point it out on a map. I remember the commissary pretty well."
Shane nodded, taking in the information.
"Were there any other places people might have gone? Barracks, offices, maintenance buildings?"
"Possibly," Mark replied. "There were plenty of buildings on the base. Some had secure rooms, others had reinforced doors. If people had enough warning, they might have managed to barricade themselves inside."
Lilly leaned forward slightly.
"The administrative offices were in a separate building. There were offices, records rooms and other secured areas. I can't say whether anyone made it there, but there were plenty of places where people could have taken shelter." She paused, thinking back. "There were also personnel facilities and buildings that weren't open to the public. If anyone knew the layout, they might have been able to find somewhere relatively secure."
"Do you remember any particular locations that might be worth checking?" Shane asked.
"I'd need to see a map. It's been a while, and I wouldn't want to send anyone to the wrong building. But I could probably identify the administrative section and some of the other facilities."
"That would be helpful," Shane replied. "The idea is to check the base for survivors before anything else. If there are people still alive in there, we want to find them."
Mark nodded. "Then I'll help however I can. If those people are still in the commissary, they might be running out of supplies by now."
"That's exactly what we're trying to find out," Shane said. "I'll let the others know what you've told me. We may come back to you both for more details once we've got a map."
He gave them a brief nod.
"Thanks for your time. Enjoy your breakfast."
With that, Shane stepped away from the table and headed back towards the entrance, leaving Mark and Lilly exchanging thoughtful looks.
Carley watched Shane disappear into the crowd before turning her attention back to Mark.
"Do you think those people are still alive?" she asked. "The ones who stayed in the commissary?"
Mark shrugged slightly, looking down at his plate.
"I honestly don't know. They had supplies when I left, and the storage area was pretty secure. But that was a long time ago." He paused. "I hope they made it."
"Hopefully the soldiers will find them," Katjaa said.
"Seems like they've got their hands full already," Kenny remarked. "First the bandits, now an entire air force base."
"That's probably why they're asking for help," Mark replied. "If they know where people might be hiding, it'll make things easier."
Ben glanced towards the entrance where Shane had disappeared.
"It'd be good if they found more survivors," he said quietly. "People who've been waiting for someone to come looking for them."
Lee nodded. He understood what Ben meant. There were still people out there who might have spent weeks or months wondering if anyone else had survived. If the soldiers could reach them, perhaps they wouldn't have to keep waiting.
Before anyone could say anything else, Duck leaned forward, his attention suddenly caught by something Mark had said.
"Wait, so there's airplanes at that place?"
Mark looked at him. "Well, yeah. It's an air force base."
"Real airplanes? Like the ones that fly really high?"
"That's usually what they do," Kenny answered with a faint grin.
Duck seemed impressed by that. "Do you think they still work?"
"Some might," Mark replied. "But I wouldn't count on getting a ride in one."
Duck looked a little disappointed, then turned his attention back to Clementine and her stuffed rabbit.
Lee smiled faintly at the exchange before picking up his fork again. The conversation slowly returned to breakfast, although the thought of the people still possibly waiting inside Robins Air Force Base remained with him.
••••••
"Copy that. We don't have a map of the base, but we'll manage with the drones. Mercer out."
Andrew released the push-to-talk button and placed the radio handset back in its cradle inside the Humvee. He stepped away from the vehicle, adjusting his jacket as he looked towards the base.
It has been a little over four months since the outbreak began. The chances of finding anyone still alive inside are extremely slim. Most people who had managed to survive the initial chaos would have either found somewhere else to go , like Mark or run out of supplies by now.
Still, the commissary was worth investigating. If Mark's account was accurate, the people who had barricaded themselves inside its storage area had started with a considerable amount of food and other supplies. Depending on how many had remained, they might have been able to last for quite some time......If the dead hadn't reached them already.
Andrew glanced towards the base, thinking about the thousands of walkers scattered across its grounds.
Even with the information Mark and Lilly could provide, navigating the buildings and locating potential survivors would be difficult with that many of them wandering around.
And there was the matter of retaking the base itself.
Anyway. With the winter approaching, there's little reason to rush into an operation that could cost us a considerable number of soldiers and supplies. The cold would eventually immobilize a large portion of the walkers, making them far less of a threat and allowing us to clear the base with considerably fewer resources spent.
It wouldn't eliminate the danger entirely, but it would make the operation much more manageable.
For now, it's for the best to continue using the drones to survey the area, identify important buildings and look for any signs of survivors. Once we have a better understanding of the base's layout and the condition of its facilities, we can begin preparing a proper plan of action.
Andrew turned towards the drone operators.
"Keep surveying the area. I want a closer look at the commissary and the surrounding buildings. See if you can spot anything that might indicate survivors."
"Yes, sir," one of the operators replied, returning his attention to the controller.
Andrew looked back towards the air base.
There was no need to waste lives and ammunition if waiting a little longer could make the difference between a costly assault and a manageable operation.
As Andrew ordered the drone continued its slow survey of the air base, passing over abandoned military vehicles and rows of damaged tents. Its camera moved from one building to another, recording the surrounding area while the operator watched the feed on his controller.
Andrew remained nearby, studying the images whenever something caught his attention.
Then the operator leaned closer to the screen.
"Lieutenant?"
Andrew turned towards him. "What is it?"
"I think we've got something."
The operator adjusted the controls, slowing the drone as it approached one of the larger buildings. Its camera tilted down towards the roof.
At first, there was little to see beyond the weathered surface and scattered debris. Then something moved near a raised access structure.
"Hold on," the operator muttered.
He zoomed in.
Three figures had emerged onto the rooftop. They were dressed in dirty, worn-out clothing, their appearances suggesting they had been surviving under difficult conditions for quite some time. One of them was standing near the access hatch, while the other two had moved closer to the edge of the roof.
They were looking directly at the drone.
"Those are people," the operator said.
Andrew stepped closer to the screen.
"Survivors?"
"Looks that way, sir."
The three figures were waving their arms, trying to get the drone's attention. Their movements were hesitant at first, almost as though they weren't sure whether it was safe to approach. One of them pointed towards the drone, then gestured urgently towards the building beneath them.
They weren't shouting. From their movements, it seemed they were deliberately avoiding making noise.
The operator adjusted the camera again, taking a closer look at the rooftop.
There was something painted across the surface, though most of it had faded away. The remaining marks were barely distinguishable from the discoloured concrete, but they appeared to form a message. Whatever it had originally said, the paint had been exposed to the elements for months.
"They've been trying to signal someone," the operator observed.
Andrew studied the image.
"Can you make out what it says?"
"Not from this angle. Most of it's washed out."
The camera shifted back towards the survivors. One of them was now pointing repeatedly towards the access hatch, then making a gesture towards the inside of the building.
Andrew understood what they were trying to communicate.
"There could be more of them inside."
"Possibly, sir. I've only spotted these three."
Andrew continued watching the feed. The survivors looked exhausted. Their clothes were filthy, and even from the drone's distance, their movements suggested they were in poor condition.
Andrew watched the live footage for a few more seconds before turning towards the operator.
"Does the drone have audio?"
The operator shook his head. "No, sir. There's no microphone or speaker installed. We can see them, but they won't be able to hear us or us them."
Andrew looked back at the screen. The three survivors were still gathered near the rooftop access, occasionally waving towards the drone.
"Should I bring it down a little closer? Maybe they could understand that we're trying to help."
Andrew considered the suggestion. He watched as the drone hovered above the building.
"No. Move it higher."
"Sir?"
"The noise is already attracting the walkers nearby. I don't want them gathering around the building while those people are still inside." Andrew pointed towards the screen. "Keep it high enough that they can still see it, but don't bring it any closer. Keep watching them and let me know if you spot anyone else."
"Yes, Lieutenant."
The operator adjusted the controls, gradually raising the drone above the rooftop. The three figures continued watching it, though their movements became less frantic as it moved away.
Andrew stepped back and turned towards the second operator, who was still surveying another section of the base. He approached just as the man moved the camera across a row of buildings.
"Anything?"
"Not much, sir. I've checked several of the buildings that could potentially have survivors, but most of them are surrounded by walkers. A few entrances are visibly open, too. I haven't seen anyone moving inside or around them."
Andrew studied the footage for a moment. There were simply too many walkers crowding the buildings. Even if survivors had managed to barricade themselves inside, there was no easy way to determine if any were still alive.
"Bring that drone back."
The operator looked up. "Yes, sir."
"We'll attach a radio to it and send it back out. The first drone will stay with the survivors and keep monitoring the area. Once we're ready, we'll use it to draw the nearby walkers away from the commissary."
Andrew glanced towards the other operator's controller.
"There's no point sending a radio directly to them while those things are gathering around the building. If we bring the drone down close enough for them to retrieve it, the noise could draw the walkers straight towards their entrance. We need to give them some breathing room first."
"Understood, sir."
The second drone began its return flight towards their position.
Andrew was still studying the drone feed when Sergeant Hale approached him.
"What's the plan, sir?"
Andrew glanced towards him before looking back at the monitor.
"We need to get those survivors out of there. And I don't want them having to fight their way through thousands of walkers just to reach us."
Hale followed his gaze towards the screen.
Andrew turned to the first drone operator. "Take a look around the area behind the commissary. I want to see what's there and how far the dead are spread out."
"Yes, sir."
The operator adjusted the drone's position and began guiding it around the building. The camera feed shifted, revealing the area behind the commissary.
An open airfield stretched out beyond it. Only a few abandoned vehicles were scattered across the tarmac, but the area was far from empty. Hundreds of walkers wandered between them, with many more visible farther out.
Andrew leaned closer to the screen, studying the layout.
"There's our way out," he said after a moment. "We use the drones to draw the walkers away from the airfield and the area around the commissary. Once most of them have moved off, the survivors can make a run for the perimeter fence."
He pointed towards the fence line on the monitor.
"We'll send a team with bolt cutters to open a section of it. Give them a clear route through, and they won't have to cross the entire base."
Hale considered the plan, his eyes moving between the airfield and the surrounding buildings.
"The drones should be able to pull most of them away, but there'll still be some left behind. We can't count on clearing every last one."
"I know."
"We could send an LMTV with two sniper teams. There's a small ridge overlooking the area. If we position the truck properly, they'll have a good vantage point and enough elevation to cover the survivors as they make their way to the fence."
Andrew looked back at the feed, considering the suggestion before giving a nod.
"That'll work. Have the teams cover the escape route from there. But I also want a squad to move in and meet the survivors halfway. We can have them guide everyone out and bring them back to the extraction point."
Hale nodded, already thinking through the deployment.
The next hour was spent preparing for the extraction.
Both drones had been brought back and their batteries recharged. The operators checked their equipment and reviewed the planned routes, making sure they could draw the walkers away from the commissary and the open airfield without leading them towards the survivors' escape route.
Meanwhile, the LMTV and two sniper teams had taken up positions on the small ridge overlooking the area. From there, they would have a clear view of the airfield and the approach to the perimeter fence, allowing them to provide overwatch during the extraction.
The rescue team was also ready. Equipped with bolt cutters, rifles and additional ammunition, they would move towards the fence as soon as the drones had drawn most of the walkers away. Once they had opened a section wide enough for the survivors to pass through, they would advance towards the commissary and meet them along the way.
Andrew stood beside the Humvee, looking over the preparations while Sergeant Hale checked in with the teams. Everything was in place. They had a plan, the necessary equipment and enough personnel to carry it out.
All that remained was to establish contact with the survivors and make sure they understood what they needed to do.
••••••
An hour had passed since the drone disappeared.
The three survivors were still on the rooftop, watching the area around the commissary. They had spent most of that time waiting, occasionally exchanging a few quiet words, but none of them had been willing to leave. After everything they had endured, the drone had been the first real sign that someone might have found them.
Staff Sergeant Daniel Brooks stood near the rooftop access hatch, his faded uniform stained with dirt and sweat. Beside him was Corporal Evan Miller, whose trousers were torn at one knee. Both men looked exhausted, their faces unshaven and their clothes worn from months of use.
A few feet away, Mike Turner kept his eyes on the distant buildings. He had once been a pilot, but these days his main concern was keeping himself and the others alive.
"Think they'll come back?" Evan whispered.
Daniel glanced towards him. "I don't know."
"They saw us. I'm sure they did."
"Maybe," Mike replied. "But we don't know who was controlling it. Could've been someone scouting the base."
"Then why leave?"
Mike didn't answer immediately. He looked towards the commissary's rooftop access hatch. Below them, four other people were waiting inside the storage area: Daniel's wife and their young daughter, along with Evan's mother and younger sister. They had all taken shelter together when the base fell, and the commissary's supplies had kept them alive far longer than any of them had expected.
They had enough food to survive, but that didn't mean they could stay there forever.
"Sarah keeps asking when we're getting out," Evan said quietly. His eyes remained fixed on the surrounding buildings. "I told her we'd find a way."
Daniel looked at him. "We'll get them out."
"Yeah. I know."
But neither man sounded particularly convinced.
Mike rubbed his tired eyes. "We should go back inside. There's no point staying up here if they're not coming."
"Give it a little longer," Daniel replied.
They continued waiting.
The three had grown accustomed to speaking quietly over the past four months. Even when the dead were far enough away that they couldn't possibly hear them, raising their voices felt unnatural. They had learned to keep conversations short, avoid unnecessary noise and never take their surroundings for granted.
Now, with the drone gone, the same old uncertainty was beginning to settle over them.
"Maybe they didn't see us properly," Evan whispered.
"We were waving right at it," Mike said.
"Maybe they couldn't get close."
"Or maybe they just left."
Daniel turned towards him. "Don't."
Mike looked away. He didn't want to say what all three of them were thinking. The drone might have been their only chance. If whoever controlled it had left the base, there was no guarantee anyone else would come looking.
A familiar buzzing suddenly reached them.
All three looked up.
"Wait," Evan whispered. "You hear that?"
The sound grew louder as the drone appeared in the distance. It was flying much higher than before, gradually descending as it approached the commissary.
"That's it," Daniel said, stepping closer to the edge of the roof.
Several walkers in the surrounding area stopped wandering. Their heads turned towards the buzzing, and soon they began moving in the drone's direction.
Mike watched as it passed over the open area behind the building.
"It's drawing them away," he murmured.
The drone continued across the airfield, leading the walkers farther from the commissary. More of the dead followed, gradually thinning out the crowd that had surrounded the building.
"Maybe they're clearing a way for us," Evan whispered.
They watched until the drone had moved a considerable distance away. Then another buzzing sound approached from a different direction.
A second drone appeared.
It flew directly towards the rooftop, moving more slowly as it descended. This time, the survivors could make out something attached beneath its body: a small handheld radio secured with tape.
"Is that a radio?" Mike asked.
Daniel leaned forward, trying to get a better look.
"Looks like one."
The drone hovered just above the rooftop, its rotors stirring dust and loose debris. Evan stepped forward cautiously and reached up, carefully removing the radio from its underside.
Once the device was free, the drone began climbing again, moving higher into the air.
The three survivors gathered around the radio, staring at it in disbelief.
After four months of waiting, they finally had a way to contact someone outside.
Evan held the radio in both hands, his fingers trembling slightly as he pressed the transmit button.
"Hello? Can anyone hear me?"
He released the button and waited, listening to the faint static.
A few seconds later, a voice answered.
"This is Lieutenant Andrew Mercer. We can hear you. Do you hear me?"
Evan stared at the radio, momentarily unable to respond. Daniel stepped closer, his expression tense as he waited for him to speak.
Evan pressed the button again.
"Yes, yes. We hear you."
"Good. We've been surveying the base and looking for survivors. We spotted you on the commissary rooftop. How many people are with you?"
Evan glanced towards Daniel and Mike before answering.
"Seven in total. Three of us are up here, and the other four are inside the commissary storage area."
"Understood. Does anyone require immediate medical attention?"
"No immediate emergencies. We're all exhausted, but nobody's seriously injured."
"We're going to draw the walkers away from the commissary and clear a route to the perimeter fence. Once the way is open, I need all of you to move quickly. A rescue team will meet you halfway and escort you out, while two sniper teams provide cover from an elevated position. Start getting everyone ready to leave now. Don't worry about your supplies or belongings. Just bring yourselves and move as soon as you get the signal."
Evan lowered the radio, still holding it tightly in his hands. For a moment, he simply stared at it, trying to process what he had just heard.
"They're coming," he finally said.
Daniel looked at him. "What?"
"The soldiers. They're going to draw the walkers away and clear a route to the fence. There's a rescue team coming to meet us, and snipers providing cover."
Mike let out a slow breath, looking between the two soldiers. "So they're actually getting us out?"
"That's what he said."
Daniel turned towards the rooftop access hatch. "Come on. We need to tell the others."
They climbed down into the storage area. The familiar smell of old food, dust and stale air greeted them as they entered. Shelves and stacks of supplies occupied much of the room, while a few mattresses and blankets had been arranged in a relatively clear corner.
Sarah Brooks was sitting beside her daughter, Emma, a little girl of five, who was playing quietly with a small collection of toys. Nearby, Evan's mother, Margaret, was sorting through their remaining supplies while his younger sister, sixteen-year-old Rachel, sat against one of the shelves.
All four looked up as the men entered.
"What's happening?" Sarah asked, noticing the expressions on their faces.
Daniel approached her and crouched beside Emma before looking at his wife.
"We made contact with the military. They're outside the base, and they're going to get us out."
Sarah stared at him, seemingly unsure whether she had heard correctly.
"You're serious?"
Daniel nodded. "They found us with a drone. They're preparing an extraction now."
Margaret slowly stood up, her hands resting against the shelf beside her.
"How many soldiers?"
"I don't know exactly," Evan replied. "But they've got enough people to cover the route. They're going to draw the dead away from the commissary, open a section of the perimeter fence and send a rescue team to meet us."
Rachel looked towards her brother. "When?"
"As soon as the way is clear."
Emma had stopped playing and was looking between her parents.
"Are we going home?"
Sarah's expression softened. She reached over and brushed some of the little girl's hair away from her face.
"We're going somewhere safe, sweetheart."
"With other people?"
"Yes. There'll be other people there."
Emma seemed to consider that for a moment before looking back at Daniel.
"Will there be other kids?"
Daniel managed a small smile. "I'm sure there will be."
For the first time in months, the little girl seemed genuinely excited. Sarah pulled her into a hug, resting her cheek against Emma's head.
Meanwhile, Rachel had already started gathering a few belongings. She picked up a small backpack from beside her mattress and began placing a change of clothes and a few personal items inside.
"Don't take too much," Evan told her. "The lieutenant said not to worry about supplies or belongings. We just need to get ourselves out."
"What about the food?" Margaret asked, glancing towards the shelves.
"We're leaving it," Daniel answered. "The military will take care of us once we're out."
Mike looked around the storage area. They had spent nearly four months here, carefully rationing food, maintaining their barricades and doing everything possible to avoid attracting the dead. The supplies had kept them alive, but the room had gradually become more than just a place to hide. It had been their entire world.
"Never thought we'd actually be leaving this place," he murmured.
"Neither did I," Daniel replied.
They began preparing in earnest. Margaret gathered a few essential personal belongings, while Rachel helped her check that they had everything they needed. Sarah made sure Emma had her jacket and a small bag containing a few of her favourite things. Daniel and Evan checked their weapons and equipment, making sure they were ready to move as soon as the signal came.
They didn't have to wait much longer.
The distant buzzing of the drones grew louder, followed by the faint sounds of the dead moving away from the building. The three men returned to the rooftop to check the situation, while the others remained inside.
From above, the change was immediately noticeable. The area behind the commissary, which had previously been crowded with the living dead , was beginning to clear. Most of the dead had followed the second drone towards the far end of the airfield.
Daniel scanned the area for a few moments before looking towards Evan.
"Looks like they're doing it."
Evan nodded, then turned towards the rooftop access.
"Let's get everyone up here."
One by one, the others climbed onto the roof. Sarah kept Emma close, holding her hand as they emerged into the open air. Margaret followed with Rachel and Mike bringing up the rear.
Daniel moved towards the side of the building, where a metal ladder led down to the ground behind the commissary. He looked over the edge, checking the area below before turning back towards the others.
"All right. We'll go down one at a time. Watch your footing, and don't rush on the ladder."
He helped Sarah position Emma, then began guiding the little girl down. Sarah followed closely behind, keeping one hand near her daughter as she descended.
Evan stayed near the top, helping his mother onto the ladder before Rachel followed. Mike waited until the others were safely down, then climbed after them.
When everyone had reached the ground, Daniel checked the area once more. The nearest living dead were now well away from the commissary, drawn towards the distant buzzing of the drone.
He looked back at the others.
"Stay close. We're moving towards the fence."
Daniel took the lead, moving carefully along the back of the commissary. The others followed close behind, keeping their voices down and watching their surroundings. Sarah held Emma's hand, while Rachel stayed beside her mother. Evan and Mike brought up the rear, occasionally looking back towards the building they had called home for nearly four months.
The area was quieter than they were accustomed to. Most of the living dead had followed the drone towards the far end of the airfield, leaving only a few scattered among the abandoned vehicles and along the edge of the buildings.
They had not gone far when Daniel spotted one wandering between two parked vehicles. Its clothes were torn, and its head turned towards the group as they approached.
" living dead," he whispered.
Before anyone could react, a suppressed rifle shot sounded from the distant ridge.
The creature's head snapped backwards, and it collapsed onto the ground.
Everyone stopped.
Another one emerged from behind a nearby vehicle, turning towards the sound. A second shot followed almost immediately, dropping it before it could get any closer.
Daniel looked towards the ridge. Although he couldn't make out much at that distance, he could just about see a truck up there.
"Snipers," Evan whispered.
The two marksmen were equipped with suppressed M110 rifles, each accompanied by a spotter. Their positions on the ridge gave them a clear view of the survivors' route, allowing them to engage any walkers that strayed too close. The suppressors reduced the noise of their shots, but not erased the sound.
"Keep moving," Daniel told the others.
They continued towards the perimeter fence, with the snipers watching over them. A few more living dead appeared along the way, but each was dealt with before it could approach the group.
Eventually, the fence came into view.
A small team of soldiers was already working on it. Two of them were using heavy bolt cutters to cut through the chain-link fencing, widening the opening enough for everyone to pass through. Their weapons were slung close at hand, ready to be brought up if anything approached.
One of the soldiers noticed the survivors and raised a hand.
"Over here! Keep coming!"
Daniel led the group towards the opening. The soldiers finished cutting the last section and pulled the loose fencing aside, creating a passage wide enough for them to get through.
"Come on. One at a time," a soldier instructed.
Sarah guided Emma through first, followed by Margaret and Rachel. Mike went next, with Evan and Daniel bringing up the rear.
Once everyone was through, one of the soldiers approached Daniel.
"Staff Sergeant?"
"That's right."
"Lieutenant Mercer sent us to bring you out. We're going to move towards our position. Stay together, keep your voices down and follow our instructions."
Daniel nodded, glancing back towards the base. The commissary was still visible beyond the fence, and the distant drone continued drawing the remaining walkers away.
"Understood."
The rescue team formed around the survivors, keeping their weapons ready as they began moving away from the perimeter. Their rifles were fitted with suppressors and loaded with subsonic ammunition, allowing them to deal with any remaining threats without producing the louder reports of standard ammunition.
Now, after nearly four months, they were no longer trying to find a place to hide.
They were finally leaving.