In the end, Rick didn't give those soldiers any firearms, but he did lend them a few machetes. Without waiting for him to warn them about how dangerous the red-eyed walkers could be, they entered the dormitory from where the characteristic sounds of walkers had been coming. Soon, the sounds of slicing and bodies hitting the ground echoed through the hallway. After a while, the noise stopped completely.
With a creak, the door to the dormitory—previously filled with walkers—opened once more, and a group of five people emerged with looks of relief on their faces. Upon seeing Rick and his group, one of them took the initiative to speak.
"Thanks for the machetes! We were able to take care of our former comrades."
Derek and the others handed the machetes back, but Rick shook his head and said, "Keep them. We'll be leaving this place once we finish collecting all the supplies. What's your plan now?"
Derek smiled at his words, thought for a moment, and replied, "As I mentioned before, all of us have family. We plan to go home and check on them."
Rick nodded. He also thought that was for the best. If they all returned to their families, there would be no reason to distrust them. Otherwise, he wouldn't feel comfortable letting them stay at the base.
"Then you won't leave empty-handed. You can take a vehicle and keep the machetes. Better than nothing."
As a former cop, Rick still felt a certain sympathy for them. He too had been away from his family, and the first thing he had wanted to do after waking up was to go see them.
Once the base was fully cleared of walkers, it could be considered completely secure. Rick personally escorted Derek's group to the gate.
"I hope you all find your families!"
"Thanks, Rick. You're a good man."
…
As he watched the vehicle leave the base and that group of strangers drive away, Rick suddenly had a gut feeling—like something wasn't quite right. But no matter how much he thought or suspected, those people had always behaved normally from the start. Even before leaving, they shared the location of the weapons and left behind a map with all the important places in the base. Still, something inside him told him that not everything was as it seemed.
With a self-deprecating smile, Rick waved to everyone, turned around, and walked toward the supply warehouse, where the soldiers who had arrived as reinforcements were loading resources onto the trucks.
The guards at the warehouse entrance were checking everyone thoroughly before letting them in. Interestingly, no more red-eyed walkers had been found, so everyone was truly grateful.
Besides securing the landing zone for the survivors Jason had mentioned, what excited everyone the most was the enormous amount of food supplies. There was a storage area that spanned hundreds of square meters, and the inside was completely filled with provisions.
At that moment, at least twenty people were loading boxes onto a truck while celebrating. Everyone was cheerful, and many were even opening the boxes to check their contents.
They were all military rations, exactly like the ones found in the cafeteria. Rick personally inspected them. After seeing the size of each box, he estimated there were at least thirty food bags in each one.
As he observed the warehouse, Rick silently counted the boxes and was stunned by the quantity. He didn't know exactly how many supplies there were, but it was obvious the number wasn't small.
"These days, military food is the best you can find. It has an expiration date years into the future, so we can store it along with the other rations," Jim said as he watched the boxes being loaded.
"You're right. In our situation, it's best to save products with a long shelf life and consume the ones close to expiring first," Rick replied with a nod.
"Thank God you sent us this food!" a man murmured gratefully.
Rick, who was nearby, looked at him and asked with interest, "Your name's Eduardo, right?"
This man, Eduardo, was a survivor Carol had rescued while patrolling the forest, hoping to hunt an animal.
Rick studied him and asked curiously, "What were you studying before all of this began?"
A man beside him chimed in, "Sir, this is Eduardo. He used to help me sometimes in the chemistry department. Thanks to his skills, even after breaking his nose, he became the leader of our group when we went out to contribute to the base."
Rick smiled and turned to the other man. "Maximilian, right?"
"Yes, sir!"
"You're both valuable people. Keep up the good work. The base will need talented young people like you in the future."
After one group handled the food, another found the weapons depot and informed Rick.
When they opened the door, the first thing they noticed was the strong smell of gun oil. Rick entered with the others to inspect the place.
The arsenal was made up of many rooms, each filled with different kinds of equipment. After a quick check, it was clear most of the gear was well-preserved, and the quantity was massive.
There were hard-to-find items: body armor, night vision goggles, gas masks, grenade launchers, and more.
They also found numerous light and heavy machine guns, rocket launchers, standard rifles, pistols, and grenades. They even discovered heavy artillery in the rear warehouse: 76mm, 105mm, and 155mm pieces.
Wait… there was also self-propelled artillery—not a huge amount, but enough—and even anti-aircraft guns, something they had been searching for a long time.
It was estimated the weapons were enough to rearm a squad of a thousand men with no problem. But the most astonishing thing was the sheer amount of ammunition stored—more than enough to make up for losses in walker encounters.
Soon, they found the military camp's fuel depot. There were ten large tanker trucks in a nearby garage—four empty, six completely full. There were also HH60 helicopters and cargo choppers, armored vehicles, and other facilities ideal for establishing a strategic forward base.
"Guillermo will be thrilled to hear this…" Rick commented with a smile that quickly faded.
He looked thoughtfully at the joyful people around him. He hesitated for a moment but said nothing.
He had noticed something strange about Daniel. He turned his head and signaled him to speak privately.
They walked out to the outer hallway, and Rick asked in a curious tone, "What's wrong? You don't look like your usual self."
Daniel hesitated but eventually spoke. "I keep thinking about Derek and the others. There's something off about their story."
Rick frowned. He had wanted to dismiss that concern, but he knew Derek's story sounded too perfect not to question. Even though they had already left, he couldn't shake the feeling.
Daniel looked at him, a bit uncertain. "Rick, I heard a story about some people trapped in a prison cafeteria. I think it could be related."
Daniel explained that if those soldiers had moved the food into the dormitory, how much had they eaten over the course of a year? Two rations a day per person plus water meant they would have needed a massive amount of supplies, so they must have transported a lot before the walkers overran the cafeteria.
"The cafeteria's storage room was empty when we found it. Given its size, it should've had limited food. How could they survive there for a year without going outside because of the walkers?"
Rick thought deeply after hearing that.
"Didn't they say there were more than ten people at first?"
Daniel shook his head and clarified, "If they had time to move food, why did so many of them die? It's obvious the storage room didn't have enough."
"Let's check," Rick said.
They both returned to the dormitory area, inspected the boxes and the floor. The amount of trash wasn't nearly enough to suggest they had survived there for a whole year.
"Even though they looked thin, they didn't seem malnourished. Logically, they should have at least asked for food to satisfy their hunger… but they didn't."
As Daniel finished speaking, a thought flashed through Rick's mind like lightning. They ran to the door where the walkers had been—the former comrades of that group. Rick opened it and shone his flashlight inside.