Chapter 70: Fleeing on the Road 1

"Is there a doctor? Is there a doctor?"

The convoy had only been on the road for ten minutes when it suddenly stopped again. The same thugs who collected the protection fees were now running through the convoy, whips in hand, shouting for a doctor. Seeing the blood on one of their arms, Evelyn Ford thought of the girl from before.

She watched out the window in silence as the men went from car to car, interrogating the occupants. After a moment, they dragged a middle-aged man to the front of the convoy. Everyone else waited where they were, confused and anxious.

Meanwhile, inside the RV, the girl, now cleaned up, cowered in a corner. She clutched a dagger dripping with blood as the man on the bed glared at her with a chilling, murderous gaze.

"Mr. Holloway, the doctor’s here." The thugs dragged the doctor into the RV. The panting doctor saw the knife wound on the man’s arm and immediately composed himself.

"The wound needs to be sutured. He’ll also need antibiotics to prevent infection and inflammation. Where are the surgical tools?"

"You’re the fucking doctor, don’t you have your own tools?"

The doctor sounded aggrieved. "I may be a doctor, but I don’t have those kinds of tools on me! Without suturing equipment, the best I can do is administer a hemostatic and a painkiller, then clean and bandage the wound."

"Go find someone else. I refuse to believe there isn’t another doctor in a line this long. Get him out of my sight."

At Mr. Holloway’s command, the doctor was dragged away.

"You’ve got some nerve, daring to injure me," Mr. Holloway said. "Find her family. Teach them a lesson. As for her... let’s give Blackie a treat." Blackie was the ferocious wolf-dog he kept in an SUV in the rear, a violent beast that was fed nothing but raw meat.

The girl trembled with fear. When one of the men came to drag her away, she swung the knife, trying to fend him off.

BANG! The girl collapsed, a pool of blood spreading beneath her. The shooter stepped forward, picked up the fallen dagger, and used it to dig the bullet out of the wound in her chest.

She was dragged to the SUV in the rear. The caged dog, Blackie, smelled the blood and instantly grew excited.

Back in Evelyn’s vehicle, a thug banged on their window. He jammed a gun against Officer Graham’s head, demanding to know if there was a doctor. Everyone in the car shook their heads in unison. Undeterred, the thug wrenched the door open and began to drag Quincy out.

"I’m really not a doctor, man."

The thug kicked Quincy in the stomach, then stomped on the back of his hand, grinding his boot down hard several times.

"Damn it."

After venting his frustration, he immediately moved on to the next vehicle. Evelyn Ford got out of the car and pulled Quincy back inside. The atmosphere within the car was heavy; no one spoke a word.

After a long silence, Roy Henderson started to cry softly. He helped Quincy wipe the boot print from the back of his hand. The print was gone, but the wound was still bleeding.

"Shh, don’t cry. Don’t make a sound." Officer Graham quickly covered Roy Henderson’s mouth and shook his head sternly.

Owen Chapman was also crying silently nearby. Everyone’s spirits were low.

It wasn’t until the thugs grabbed a few more people from the cars behind them and dragged them to the front that everyone’s taut nerves finally eased.

"Quincy, does it hurt a lot?"

Quincy grimaced but shook his head. "It doesn’t hurt. I’m fine. I’ll be all right after a little rest."

"Stop trying to fool us. It must hurt a lot."

Evelyn Ford handed Quincy a painkiller. He didn’t refuse, taking it and immediately tossing it into his mouth.

"Now, listen to me," Officer Graham began. "I’m going to say this one more time, and everyone needs to remember it. We have to do our best to keep a low profile. Don’t let those people up front remember us, don’t make eye contact with them, and don’t go near them. We don’t know how many weapons they have, but one thing is certain: those people are ruthless. The reason they’re tolerating us following them, besides collecting protection fees, is likely for another reason. They probably want to expand their manpower within their own faction once we get to the base."

Evelyn Ford and Quincy both nodded in agreement with Officer Graham’s assessment.

"This Wyrmrest Base might not be the great sanctuary everyone thinks it is. I’m afraid it’s going to be a political snake pit. The higher-ups will be busy fighting for power and profit, and the people at the bottom will just become pawns in their game."

Quincy nodded. "We can’t be the nail that sticks up. The most important thing is to protect ourselves. That’s why I’d rather get beaten up than go treat one of those people."

The principle of survival through discretion was once again carved into the very marrow of their bones.

An hour later, the other doctors they had taken were released. It seemed the matter had been successfully resolved.

The convoy started moving again. It wasn’t until six in the morning that it finally stopped to let everyone rest.

"Everyone, out of your vehicles."

Hearing the shout, everyone hesitated for a few seconds before opening their doors and getting out one by one.

"Our convoy has a total of over a thousand vehicles, including motorcycles and three-wheelers, and our numbers exceed four thousand people. Those of you following on foot can also come with us to Wyrmrest Base. To all pedestrians, as long as you follow our convoy, the magnanimous Mr. Holloway will waive your protection fees. However, since all of you have been following us from Corinth, that makes you one of us. When we reach Wyrmrest Base, you must all remember Mr. Holloway’s kindness in clearing this path for you."

Just then, a young man surrounded by several bodyguards made his way to the center of the crowd.

His clothes were clean and tidy, his hair was styled with mousse and slicked back, and his right hand was wrapped in gauze.

When he took off his sunglasses, he revealed a pair of narrow, triangular eyes with the sclera visible beneath the iris. His features weren’t ugly individually, but they looked discordant together.

"We’re already more than halfway to Wyrmrest Base; we should arrive in a few more days. Because of the natural disasters, everyone has suffered. Like all of you, I’m eager to reach the base as quickly as possible. However, from what I understand, accommodations at the base are currently tight. But don’t worry. With me here, I guarantee that every single one of you will be able to get in." After speaking, he swept his gaze over the crowd and left, surrounded by his bodyguards.

"What’s he trying to say?"

"What else could he mean? He might as well have said that you’ll need to use his name to get into the base. It looks like if we want to get in, we’ll have to work for him."

"No way. Have you forgotten? Last night his men came looking for a doctor and pressed a gun to your head, demanding to know if you had medical skills."

"Then what should we do? You need a powerful backer no matter where you go. If we don’t follow him, what if we get into the base and are assigned to some broken-down, rotten corner?"

...

"Mr. Graham was right again," Quincy said, his mood sinking. "Even in the wake of a natural disaster, there are still people playing political games. Those of us at the bottom, without power or influence, can never escape our fate as stepping stones."

"Didn’t they say the military was stationed at Wyrmrest Base?"

"Can we still trust the authorities?"

Evelyn Ford rubbed her temples. Compared to the others, she was much calmer.

’In her past life, something truly absurd had occurred,’ she thought. ’There was a squad that specialized in capturing people with Abnormal Pupils. It was said that those with Abnormal Pupils possessed Divine Power, and that their blood and flesh were as coveted as Monk’s flesh.’

’In the fourth year of the apocalypse during her previous life, Evelyn had heard that a base captured someone with an Abnormal Pupil. Needless to say, their end was tragic.’