Chương 162: Dumb Luck

"Evelyn, isn't going all-in like this a bit too extreme...?" Marcus asked with a hint of concern, looking at Evelyn, who was resting with her eyes closed against the side of the truck bed. Before Evelyn could speak, Holden—who was currently squatting by Marcus's leg, deeply studying his leg hair—looked up and answered for her.

"Extreme?... After you Awakened, I actually feel like it isn't extreme enough. Clint and I already talked it over. When this 'Vince' guy shows up, the two of us are gonna drop to our knees and kowtow on the spot to leave a good impression... Right?" He wiggled his eyebrows at the other young man.

"Cut the crap..." Marcus gave Holden a light kick, knocking him onto his butt. As their captain, he didn't usually joke around with them. But waking up to these massive changes—both in the tactical situation and within his own body—left him feeling involuntarily tense. He could feel that his Constitution and Strength stats had surged significantly, and his five senses had sharpened. It was almost identical to how Raven had described her own Awakening—that feeling as if the whole world had been wiped clean...

He clenched his fist. A dense, solid layer of blue light instantly coated the surface of his hand, forming a kind of energy armor. It was incredibly tough. He hadn't dared to test it against a gunshot yet, but at the very least, a bayonet couldn't pierce it. The catch was that the larger the surface area the armor covered, the shorter he could sustain it. If he coated his entire body in the blue light, it would last for less than a minute.

But if he kept it restricted to just his fists or arms, he could easily hold it for ten minutes with energy to spare.

"This power... did Vince really give this to me?" Marcus still couldn't wrap his head around it. A complete stranger popping out of nowhere had somehow turned his half-dead self into an Awakened.

"When Wyatt gets back, I'm going to ask him again... Where's Raven?"

"Raven deployed. The supply run squad got into a standoff with a survivor community up north earlier. They've got a ton of people, and they're stubborn as hell. Forced Chester to deploy all his heavy hitters..." Clint, the young man Holden had cued earlier, picked up the explanation.

"Otherwise, this would've been a huge headache. Now, it's a cakewalk. That idiot is a complete amateur, treating troop deployment like a street gang brawl. Leaving just a handful of guys here at camp to guard us..." Before he even finished speaking, the walkie-talkie next to Evelyn—tuned to a specific frequency—crackled to life.

"Dinner is served, come down and chow..."

"Pfft— Ugh, your sense of humor..." Holden snorted with laughter upon hearing Wyatt's code phrase. He turned, caught sight of Evelyn's entirely expressionless face, and sighed to himself.

"Sometimes I really envy you. When will I ever be able to hear these awful code words and keep a straight face..." He then hunched over and moved to the edge of the truck bed. Lifting a corner of the tarp, he reached his arm out and slapped the side of the truck— slap, slap, slap —drawing the attention of the two men in the standoff outside.

"Chuck, dinner... dinner is served..."

"Phew, took them long enough." Chuck, the soldier standing guard outside the truck, let out a long breath. Without even glancing at the sentry assigned to watch them, he casually set his rifle on the ground, looking thoroughly lazy and relaxed. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. A dozen meters away, the sentry watching him tensed up, confused by his actions. He nervously grabbed his walkie-talkie, ready to report in.

His orders were to keep a tight leash on the people in the truck. Any movement in or out, or any strange behavior, was to be reported immediately.

"Bro, we've been staring at each other for an hour now. Let's make a deal, yeah?" Chuck stripped off his utility belt and Kevlar vest. He started stretching his body, doing calisthenics like an old man doing his morning exercises in the park, as he called out to the guard.

"We're heading out, and you're not going to report it. You weren't even in Chester's squad originally, right? They tossed you here on guard duty. If we actually made a move, you'd be the first one to die. That's a pretty raw deal for you, don't you think?"

"Big bro, I don't know anything about the beef between you guys and Chester. I wouldn't dare try to stop you no matter where you go. I'm just here for a meal ticket, so please don't make this hard on me..." Seeing Chuck drop his gun and body armor, the guard relaxed slightly and gave a bitter smile.

"You guys can go wherever you want. I just have to call it in. Aside from that, it's out of my hands..."

"Fair enough. We won't make it hard on you, then..." Chuck bent down to stretch his leg muscles. When he looked back up, his expression suddenly contorted into extreme shock, as if he'd just seen something horrifying. He stared dead at the sky behind the guard.

"Holy! Shit!" The guard had already dropped his guard, seeing Chuck disarmed, doing morning exercises, and casually chatting with him. Suddenly hearing the man scream while staring at his back—which happened to be the exact direction of the massive explosion last night—he instinctively jerked his head around to look... Halfway through the turn, he realized something was wrong. He squeezed his walkie-talkie and tried to snap his head back, but a vicious gust of wind slammed into him.

His vision blurred, and he instantly lost consciousness.

"Clench the right fist, swing hard, strike right between the jaw and the earlobe..." Chuck rubbed his reddened knuckles. Bending down, he hoisted the unconscious guard onto his shoulder, flipped up the tarp, and casually tossed him into the truck bed. He jerked his chin at the others inside.

"Clint, tie him up... Let's go. Time to chow down..." He quickly geared back up and reached out a hand to steady Evelyn as she hopped down from the truck.

"Not bad, Chuck. Blunt and effective..." Holden hopped out after tying up the guard and patted Chuck on the shoulder.

"Oh, please," Chuck chuckled, scratching his head.

"Compared to shameless bastards like you guys, I still need more practice..." With this guy neutralized, they avoided any potential messy complications. Evelyn and her group of seven moved briskly toward the gas station lobby. The convoy had originally boasted an armed force of forty-six personnel. Fighting their way through the Outer Ring Road had cost them one APC, one assault vehicle, and ten men. Of the remaining thirty-six, six were under Evelyn's command. The other twenty-nine fell under Chester.

These twenty-nine men were divided into three squads. Two of the squad leaders were Chester's cronies. The third was a former police officer named Travis, who also happened to be one of the only three Awakened in the convoy. Within Chester's two squads, only about eight or nine could truly be considered his trusted inner circle. The rest were just like the guard they'd knocked out—guys who knew how to shoot, wanted a meal ticket, and figured they'd at least have a fighting chance this way.

It was certainly better than cowering on the buses, waiting for the inevitable day the entire vehicle got buried under a zombie horde. The survivors on the buses were split into two teams. Every time they set up camp, if the environment permitted, two armed soldiers would lead them out to scavenge for supplies. That morning, the distress call from one of the scavenging teams was broadcast over all the military walkie-talkies. Evelyn and her team naturally heard it too.

Seeing the deputy leader take a total of ten men out for backup, they immediately decided to execute the plan they had been formulating all morning. With those ten gone, only fifteen men remained at the gas station. One standing guard at Chester's door, six scattered on perimeter watch duty against zombies, one manning the generator, and the remaining seven organizing gear and performing maintenance on the vehicles.

It wasn't until Evelyn's group reached the lobby entrance that the guards performing vehicle maintenance off to the side spotted them and moved to intercept.

"Colonel Ye, is there a problem?" Most of these men belonged to Travis's squad. Even though Chester was calling the shots now, they still showed Evelyn a degree of respect. However, even with that respect, they weren't about to just let her storm into Chester's tent. Although he had no idea why the guard at Chester's tent was missing, it wasn't his job to worry about it. All he could do was report the situation up the chain. Evelyn's primary objective was simply to draw everyone in.

As long as they weren't boxed in at the truck, the plan was working. So, she naturally let him pull out his walkie-talkie and report to Travis. A few moments later, a slightly chubby, middle-aged man appeared at the front of the gas station lobby.

"What's going on?" He threw a confused glance toward the command tent in the lobby. The guard was missing, and the tent—which was supposed to be the nerve center of the camp—was completely dead silent. Not a single sound leaked out. This eerie atmosphere immediately put the ex-cop Awakened on high alert. He narrowed his eyes, staring at Evelyn.

"Captain Zhao isn't answering his radio. Captain Xu isn't answering his radio. Does Colonel Ye know something about this?" As he spoke, his hand slowly drifted to the grip of the rifle slung around his waist, while pulling out his walkie-talkie to call for backup. Before long, aside from the two men left guarding the southern perimeter against zombies, the remaining twelve armed personnel had all rallied at the front of the gas station lobby.

They stared at the motionless flap of the command tent, yet not a single one of them dared to step forward and lift it.