"Actually, this is my dad's vineyard. When I was little, we used to come stay here for a while every now and then." Calista shrugged.
In truth, the property still belonged to old Mr. Norton. She had simply taken advantage of the fact that he was far away to make a few quiet modifications, planning to turn Twilight Manor into her base when the apocalypse came.
At the very least, Mr. Norton wouldn't be coming back before the apocalypse. Whether he'd even survive afterward was another question.
"What a dreamlike place," Leah murmured, staring at the surroundings as if lost in thought.
Calista quietly placed her hand on Leah's forearm, leaning a little closer as she spoke softly.
"This will be our home from now on. We can come stay here whenever you're on leave."
This time, Leah didn't pull her hand away.
"Except for one thing—the transportation's a bit inconvenient," Turner suddenly said from behind them in a carefree tone. "I thought we'd be resting at Blackberry Ranch down the mountain!"
As if he had the right to be picky.
Calista replied casually, "That's true. The only road connecting this place to the outside world is the one we came in on. It used to be used by logging workers, but it's been abandoned for years. Still, it's perfect for you guys to rest and regroup. No one will disturb you. I picked it on purpose."
She curled her lips and added, "If you'd rather stay at Blackberry Ranch, that's fine too. It's also my dad's property. But this time of year it's packed with vacationers. As long as you don't mind everyone staring at you."
She had carefully chosen this place from among the properties under her name and Mr. Norton's. Quiet, remote, far from the city. Once the apocalypse arrived, there probably wouldn't be many walkers around here.
And at the foot of the mountain sat Blackberry Ranch, fully equipped. If they ever had more people in the future, they could set up a secondary base there.
"This is Mr. Howard," Calista said, pointing to the elderly gardener who had come forward to greet them. "Mrs. Howard is preparing dinner for us right now. Her cooking is amazing!"
Howard had once been a professor of agricultural science at the University of Tennessee, Knoxville (UTK). After retiring, Mr. Norton had hired him with a high salary to cultivate new grape varieties.
A stocky middle-aged white man walked over slowly, his gait slightly stiff. He nodded to Calista.
"Miss Norton."
Calista waved cheerfully.
"Evans, don't be so formal."
She turned and introduced him to Leah and the others.
"This is Dr. Evans."
He had been one of Margaret and Calista's family doctors, a retired military medic.
After reviewing the backgrounds of several doctors, Calista had quickly invited the unattached Evans to move to Twilight Manor.
After all, in the apocalypse, doctors were as valuable as medicine.
Carver let out a whistle, flipping his shoulder-length black hair.
"Does the young lady still need more men around here?"
The remark carried a hint of teasing innuendo.
It was only 2010. The Reapers were still young. The oldest among them was just over thirty, while Leah was twenty-eight.
By the time Daryl met them in the original timeline, more than a decade had passed.
Back then, the Reapers had already been thoroughly brainwashed by The Pope, becoming fanatical and extreme in their faith. Compared to the cold, ruthless group they would later become, the current Reapers still had a bit of youthful energy and carefree attitude.
Calista's goal right now was to build a bond with Leah and survive the early stage of the apocalypse. She had no intention of developing any other relationships with them.
Those things could wait.
Besides, this was their first meeting. She needed to maintain the image she had established in front of Leah: a proud, wealthy heiress.
So Calista simply ignored the comment.
The atmosphere turned slightly awkward as the mercenaries looked over.
Only when Leah slammed her military canteen against Carver's chest and told him to get lost did the tension break, and the group turned their attention back toward the manor while chuckling quietly.
Three Victorian-style main buildings stood among the oak trees of Twilight Manor.
The main structure was a three-story stone castle containing sixteen guest rooms and a medical room.
Each guest room was arranged like a standard twin room, accommodating two people.
Calista lived in the central building. For safety reasons, she had deliberately arranged for the mercenaries to stay in the same building as her.
The Howards and Dr. Evans lived in another building.
Around the estate were stables, a sunlit greenhouse, wine cellars, barns, and a golf course.
The golf course had already been turned into a training ground, piled with shooting targets, sports equipment, and obstacle course gear.
She couldn't rely entirely on others. Physical training had to start now.
This body had been pampered for too long. Calista seriously doubted her resistance to the walker virus.
...
"Lower your wrist three degrees. Slow your breathing."
Turner lightly tapped Calista's back with the scope mount.
Her training vest was already soaked with sweat, and several fresh bruises had appeared along her shoulder blades.
She quickly adjusted her stance, narrowed her eyes, and curled her index finger around the trigger.
Bang!
Bullseye.
Calista looked pleased with herself. She flicked her hair and copied the mercenaries, giving Turner a loud whistle.
"So, Instructor Turner? Pretty impressive, right?"
She didn't notice that when she stood up and raised the rifle, her shirt rode up slightly, revealing a strip of pale skin and several bandages around her waist.
Turner tried to keep a serious expression, but his face slowly turned red and his gaze wandered.
"Pretty good…"
Then, with the straightforward bluntness of a typical guy, he added seriously,
"But you've been practicing for three weeks. If you still couldn't hit that level by now, I'd have to start questioning my teaching ability."
Calista immediately protested.
"I had never even touched a gun before!"
"I hit the target three days after I first held one," Turner replied proudly.
"You—!"
At that moment, Carver walked over lazily, tossing a throwing knife in his hand. Without ceremony, he cut off their argument.
"Calista. Time for knife training."
Oh.
The most terrifying man had arrived.
...
To improve her physical condition, once she became familiar with everyone, Calista shamelessly clung to Leah and asked her to guide her training.
Although Leah didn't understand why a pampered rich girl who had never lifted a finger suddenly became interested in these things, she still responsibly arranged several instructors for her.
After all, they were idle here anyway.
Turner, the team's machine gunner, taught her how to use firearms.
Ancheta, formerly a combat engineer, taught her how to identify traps.
Bossie, skilled in stealth and tracking, taught her survival skills in the forest—at the very least, how not to get lost.
Carver, the most skilled fighter among them, specialized in cold weapons and hand-to-hand combat.
Calista listened with excitement as Leah made the arrangements.
Turner was Leah's "adopted younger brother."
Ancheta had created a walker-killing device.
Bossie was the "unlucky guy" who once carried the injured Turner through six miles of forest, only to be executed by The Pope after returning.
Carver excelled at interrogation and throwing knives. His most famous moment was the classic one-versus-three fight, where he was finally taken down only after Negan tricked him.
All of them were Reapers who had names in The Walking Dead.