Chapter 82: Zachary’s Kingdom

The white walls of the medical room offered no comfort, remaining oppressive after Carmela’s revelation.

Raviah slowly withdrew her sleeve, slipping her arm out of Carmela’s trembling, clammy fingers.

"An army?" Raviah asked, her voice steady despite the weight of the word.

Carmela nodded frantically, her bloodshot eyes wide with desperation.

"He has been gathering survivors for weeks," she stammered, wiping a streak of grime from her flushed cheek.

Rhyder stepped away from the doorframe, his heavy combat boots silent against the polished floor.

"Start from the beginning," he commanded. His voice was calm, but the underlying tension made it sound dangerous.

Carmela swallowed hard, her hand clutching her own wrist as if trying to anchor herself.

"After the first cities fell, Zachary escaped with several of his business associates," she explained, her breath hitching. "They found an abandoned distribution complex outside the western industrial district."

She wiped tears from her cheeks, leaving dark, dusty smears across her pale face.

"There were warehouses there," Carmela whispered, looking up at them. "Food. Fuel. Construction materials. Medicine."

Raviah’s eyes narrowed into sharp slits as she absorbed the details.

"And he took them," Raviah stated flatly, already understanding the trajectory of her ex-fiance’s greed.

"Yes," Carmela nodded, shivering in the room’s warm air.

"At first, they only had a few dozen people," Carmela continued, her trembling voice barely louder than a whisper. "Then hundreds came, and Zachary began controlling who received food and medicine."

She paused, taking a shuddering breath that rattled in her chest.

"He told them that anyone who wanted protection had to follow his rules," she added.

Rhyder’s expression hardened, his jaw setting into a rigid line.

"How many?" He demanded, stepping closer to the examination table.

"I don’t know exactly," Carmela hesitated, flinching slightly under his stern gaze.

"More than two thousand when I left," she confessed, staring down at her worn canvas shoes.

Silence returned to the room, stretching thin across the space.

Raviah’s mind immediately began running calculations, organizing numbers and logistics with practiced precision. Two thousand people was not merely a band of refugees clinging to life. It was a fully functioning, organized faction.

"What kind of weapons?" Rhyder asked, his tone crisp and analytical.

"Guns," Carmela replied, looking up at him with dark circles surrounding her sunken eyes. "Hunting rifles. Military weapons taken from abandoned checkpoints, and some civilians were former soldiers."

She shifted her position on the gurney, her fingers knotting together in her lap.

"They also have armored vehicles," Carmela added, her voice dropping an octave.

Rhyder’s dark eyes sharpened instantaneously, locking onto her.

"How many?" He pressed, demanding absolute clarity.

"I saw at least six military vehicles," Carmela answered, her voice breaking slightly.

Six heavy vehicles were not enough to launch a full front-line assault against a fortified military installation. Yet, it was more than enough to threaten surrounding civilian encampments and cause catastrophic casualties.

Raviah crossed her arms over her chest, tapping one finger against her forearm.

"What does Zachary want?" She asked, watching Carmela’s face closely for any sign of deception.

Carmela raised her eyes, meeting Raviah’s direct gaze with a look of raw, unvarnished fear.

"He doesn’t want you anymore," Carmela admitted softly.

The blunt words struck the room strangely. They carried no emotional sting, nor did they evoke any lingering heartache. Raviah had expected bitter hatred, obsessive possession, or a desperate attempt to reclaim what he had lost.

Carmela shook her head slowly, watching the absence of hurt on Raviah’s face.

"He talks about you sometimes, but not because he misses you," Carmela clarified.

"Then why?" Raviah asked, her tone entirely devoid of warmth or curiosity.

"Because of Sol Haven," Carmela whispered, looking around at the solid walls of the medical bay.

Raviah’s stomach tightened into a hard knot, a cold sensation washing over her skin.

"How?" Raviah demanded, taking a step forward.

"He has scouts." Carmela lowered her voice, darting a nervous glance toward the closed door.

"They’ve been watching the surrounding roads," Carmela explained, leaning in closer. "They know you have greenhouses, livestock, underground storage, independent power, medical facilities, and clean water."

Raviah exchanged a swift, silent glance with Rhyder, reading the same grim realization in his eyes. Their worst fear had finally materialized from the ashes of the old world. Sol Haven was no longer seen as a safe refuge for the innocent. It was a prize waiting to be taken.

"Zachary believes whoever controls Sol Haven controls the food supply for the entire region," Carmela continued, her hands trembling once again.

Rhyder let out a short, humorless laugh that held no warmth at all.

"And he intends to become king," Rhyder remarked, his voice icy.

Carmela nodded silently, her gaze darting between the two of them.

"He calls his settlement a new government," she murmured.

Raviah’s expression turned frigid, her pulse steadying into a dangerous rhythm.

"He’s building a kingdom from starving people," she said, her voice dropping to a low growl.

"He says civilization is already dead," Carmela whispered, bowing her head. "He believes whoever controls resources should control everyone else."

Raviah briefly recalled the Zachary she had once loved in that distant, peaceful life before the world burned. He was the man who had smiled while promising her a bright future, only to abandon her when survival became inconvenient.

The apocalypse had not changed him into a monster. It had simply stripped away his comfortable disguise. A young communications officer suddenly burst through the double doors, his face flushed and sweating.

"General!" The officer gasped, saluting hastily as he caught his breath.

Rhyder turned abruptly, his military bearing taking over instantly.

"What?" Rhyder barked out.

"We’ve detected multiple unidentified vehicles approaching the western perimeter," the officer reported rapidly.

Raviah’s eyes narrowed as she shifted her stance, immediately preparing for a confrontation.

"How many?" She asked sharply.

"Too far to confirm," the officer hesitated, tapping a sequence into the wall terminal. "But we’re receiving an encrypted transmission directed straight to this terminal."

A holographic display flickered to life above the central console, casting a blue light across the room.

A man’s face materialized within the static projection, sharp features cutting through the light. He looked noticeably older than Raviah remembered, his face worn by dust, harsh sunlight, and ruthless ambition.

It was unmistakably Zachary Taylor.

Raviah stared at the ghostly blue projection without a single trace of emotion, her heart steady.

Zachary’s image sneered slightly, his eyes focusing on the receiver.

"Raviah," he said, his voice synthesized through the speaker.

Rhyder stepped up right beside her, his broad shoulders casting a shadowed presence on the blue light. Zachary’s projected eyes flicked away from Raviah, sizing up the uniformed man beside her.

"So that’s the General," Zachary chuckled, his tone dripping with condescension. "I’ve heard a lot about you."

Rhyder offered no response, staring down the projection with unblinking, lethal eyes.

"You have something I need," Zachary continued, leaning toward his own camera far across the district.

Raviah folded her arms over her chest, standing firm beside Rhyder.

"This isn’t yours," she stated, her voice slicing through the static of the feed.

"No," Zachary replied, his smile widening into something hollow and predatory. "Not yet."

The transmission flickered wildly, the holographic view expanding to reveal the background behind him. Stretched out in the distance were rows of heavily armed men, dark military transport trucks, and massive stacks of stolen supplies.

A ragged makeshift flag bearing a newly painted, harsh emblem hung prominently over the industrial complex behind him. Zachary leaned closer to the lens, his face filling the glowing space between them.

"Think carefully, Raviah," he warned, his confident smile vanishing into a flat line. "You can either cooperate and become part of the new order..."

The screen suddenly cut out, going black for several agonizing seconds.

Then, stark white letters flashed across the dark terminal interface.

[INCOMING PRIORITY MESSAGE]

Raviah stepped forward and read the text line, her facial features remaining motionless. Beside her, Rhyder reached down, his gloved hand moving steadily toward the holster at his hip.

The message displayed only one final sentence:

Give me the fortress, or I’ll bring an army.