543 C543 Mass release (1/3)

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(🚨A/N: I see what seems to be a small fraction of you guys who are either bored of or don't like the zombie arc, so I've decided to put out three chapters today in order to help speed things along a little. Enjoy the extra chapters 😉ps- Peter and MJ have already moved on to a new universe in the latest chapters on patréon. pps- the GIF/Pic contest is in the third chapter.)

The following day dawned with a renewed sense of purpose as the soldiers, having successfully cleared the entire town, now shifted their focus to the challenging task of gating off the area.

In a meeting room at the hospital, Peter, MJ, Major Lewis, Joel, and Tommy gathered around a table adorned with maps of Georgia, the remnants of a bygone era when paper maps were still indispensable.

Peter, pointing toward the east coast of the map, took the lead in the discussion. "Our next move is to raid the shipping docks," he declared. The others exchanged curious glances, prompting Peter to elaborate. "We're not just going for supplies, although that's a bonus. We need the shipping containers."

Confusion lingered in the room until Peter unveiled his plan. "These containers will be the foundation of our perimeter. But thin sheeted metal won't hold against the infected, so we'll need to fill them with concrete or asphalt, reinforced with rebar if possible. It's the simplest and most efficient way to create a sturdy barrier around the town."

Nods of understanding passed through the group. The idea of repurposing shipping containers not only for their original contents but also for fortifying their newfound home resonated as a practical solution.

The only problem would be getting enough asphalt and concrete, as normal stores wouldn't hold that much at a time. Abandoned construction areas and storage spaces should have exactly what they need though.

Joel raised a practical concern. "What about a gate?" he questioned. "How are we supposed to get in and out while keeping the infected at bay?"

Peter, taking a sip from a water bottle, considered the question. "We might have to fashion our own gate or reinforce an existing one if we find something suitable while we're out. But for now, let's just focus on getting everything that we need."

As he says that, Peter turns to the Major. "We'll be taking some men with us, but only around a hundred. While we're gone, I need you to lead another group to start burning the infected bodies that are lying all over town…" He says as he turns deathly serious. "Listen to me very carefully. You need to make sure that everyone who comes into contact with these bodies are in gloves, long sleeved clothing, and wearing respiratory masks, do you understand?"

The Major nodded his head, "Yes, sir."

"Good, because I don't want to come back and find out that some brain dead idiots got themselves infected." Peter stated before adding, "And the same goes for any fungus or mold growing around town. It needs to be burned and dealt with using extreme caution."

"Don't worry, I'll lead the operation myself." The Major assured him. "We'll do everything as you said."

With the expedition plan in place, as well as the clean up plan, Peter and his usual team geared up for the journey to the shipping docks.

————

As Peter and his team prepared for the crucial expedition to the shipping docks, inside a growing survivor camp outside of Atlanta, a different conversation unfolded. The camp, nestled in an old Quarry base, had become a refuge for survivors, and as the influx of people increased, so did the strain on their dwindling supplies.

In a meeting area at the center of camp, surrounded by the rugged remnants of the Quarry, a group of survivors huddled to discuss the impending need for supplies. Glenn, Lori, Shane, Morales, Andrea, T-Dog, Carol, Merle, Daryl, and a few other key members comprised the group.

[Insert pictures here, if you want.]

The conversation was marked by a sense of urgency as they debated who among them would venture out to gather the necessary supplies. Morales, a calm and measured presence, spoke up, "I'm willing to go. We can't keep relying on what's left. We need more, or we'll be facing a different kind of danger."

Although he was scared to leave the safety of their camp, Glenn nodded in agreement. "I can scout around, find the best places to loot. But we'll need a team, not just one person."

Andrea chimed in, "I'm in. We need to do this carefully, though. No unnecessary risks."

T-Dog voiced his support, "I'll go too. We've got to do what we can for the camp."

Merle, grinning mischievously, seemed unfazed by the collective gaze. "Well, ain't this a merry band of misfits. I'm in, but only 'cause I don't trust y'all to get it done yourselves."

T-Dog raised a questioning brow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

(A/N: Warning: Merle is racist, sexist, and just an all around piece of human trash. So be ready for it. I'll try to keep the truly heinous words out or censored in some way. Mainly because I don't want to get banned, or annoyed by people who don't understand that it's just his character.)

"It means that y'all wouldn't be able to survive without me." Merle states matter of factly, pointing at Glen, Andrea, Morales, and T-Dog, one by one. "Look at you? A chink, a woman, a wet-back, and a ni-"

Instantly, T-Dog jumped out of his seat and swings at Merle. "You racist Motherf*cker!"

Instantly, Daryl stepped in front of his brother and took the hit, whilst everyone else held T-Dog back. Merle, seeing that his brother was punched, tried to retaliate, but Daryl did his best to restrain him.

Once everyone was separated and calm again, Daryl spoke up. "I'll go too." He said as he eyed his brother, who didn't look happy. "After all, someone needs to make sure he doesn't get killed or left behind…"

Daryl didn't trust any of these people to look out for his brothers well-being, so he would have to it himself. His brother had a knack for getting people to hate him, especially those of other races and genders. He just didn't care and let his mouth run, spewing all sorts of filth on a daily basis.

Suddenly, Shane spoke up. "Maybe I should go as well?"

"No!" Instantly, Lori disagreed. "You're the only one who's keeping this camp together. If you leave, who know's what'll happen…"

Although it wasn't as big of a deal as Lori was making it out to be, everyone couldn't help but agree that Shane was the one keeping this camp together. As a former sheriffs Deputy, he help a position of authority among the many survivors. Without him, things may spiral out of control.

Reluctantly, Shane agreed that he should stay. "Alright, then it's settled, Glenn, T-Dog, Morales, Merle, Daryl, and Andrea will go out for supplies. Remember, don't go deep into the city. Only search the outskirts."

…

As they geared up for their journey, T-Dog took on a leadership role. "We'll need to be quick and efficient. Hit supermarkets, houses, anywhere that might have food. No unnecessary risks. Stay together, and we should be back before anyone misses us."

Soon enough, the group left the Quarry camp, venturing into the uncertain landscape surrounding Atlanta. The importance of their mission weighed heavily on their shoulders, knowing that the survival of the camp depended on the success of their looting expedition.

…

As the Quarry group ventured into the outskirts of Atlanta, their mission to gather supplies took an unexpected turn. Glenn, T-Dog, Morales, Merle, Daryl, and Andrea moved cautiously through the eerily silent streets, their eyes scanning for any signs of useful loot. The city, once bustling with life, now lay in ruins, a haunting reminder of the world they had lost.

As they approached a supermarket, their hopes of finding much-needed provisions were high. The shattered glass doors creaked as Glenn cautiously pushed them open, revealing a dimly lit interior. The group spread out, scavenging for food, water, and any other essentials they could find.

Suddenly, the stillness of the air was shattered by the sound of multiple guns cocking. Panic set in as the group realized they were not alone. Stepping out of the shadows, a group of unfamiliar survivors emerged with hostility in their eyes. A tense standoff unfolded as both groups assessed the threat, weapons aimed at one another.

A burly man, leader of the hostile survivors, sneered at them. "Thought you could just stroll in and take whatever you want, huh?" He brandished his weapon menacingly, and tensions escalated.

Merle, ever confrontational, shot back with a smirk. "Well, looks like we got ourselves a welcoming committee. Ain't that nice?"

Before words could escalate into more violence, a gunshot rang out, hitting Merle in the arm. "Argh! F*cker!"

Chaos erupted as the Quarry group sought cover, retreating into the supermarket. The hostile survivors, continued to fire in their direction, but soon retreated as they saw a horde running over.

Inside the building, the wounded Merle gritted his teeth. "Those sons of bitches are gonna pay for that."

T-Dog, scanning their surroundings, noticed a swarm of infected drawn by the commotion. "We need to find a way out of here before those things reach us."

As the infected closed in, the Quarry group made a frantic dash through the market, searching for an escape route. A door at the back led them to a narrow alley, but the moans of the infected echoed around them.

In a desperate move, they entered an abandoned building, hoping to evade both the hostile survivors and the approaching infected.

With the infected now swarming the area, the Quarry group found themselves trapped inside the building. The once silent streets were filled with the guttural sounds of the undead.

…

Meanwhile, only a few blocks away, Rick, who had just arrived the previous night, heard the gunfire. Suspicious, he stealthily made his way towards the source, wondering if his family might be nearby.

As he approached the supermarket, Rick spotted the Quarry group as they holed themselves up inside the building, locking the door behind them. The tense situation had drawn the attention of the infected, making the environment even more perilous.

Rick, assessing the situation, considered his options. The unknown group was trapped, and the infected wouldn't just leave, not after seeing some tasty food enter the building.

'They might know where Lori and Carl are…' Rick thought as he decided to help them. The only question was how would he do so?

————

On the East Coast, hours away from Atlanta, Peter, unaware of the situation Rick's found himself in, just finished clearing a dock yard, filled with hundreds of shipping containers.

With the help of around a hundred armed soldiers, they were able to clear the place in less than an hour. Now, all they had to do was sort through the containers and transport everything back.

As Peter sat back and watched his men do the dirty work, he could help but think. 'Maybe I should start working on a cure? Possibly an anti-fungus gas or smoke to clear out large areas and some sort of vaccine for survivors…'

After all, he didn't plan to stay here much longer. Once the town was secured, and Rick returned with everyone, it would be time for them to head off to the next universe.

A/N: 1869 words :)

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