Chapter 200: Preparations for the Trip

Chapter 200: Chapter 200: Preparations for the Trip

Signs of a massive biological explosion were becoming increasingly obvious. Over the past few months, survivors had gradually discovered that the meat of some mutated snakes was firm and edible. As a result, many took desperate risks, trying every possible method to catch snakes to fill their stomachs.

Aside from mutated snakes, base patrols had also frequently spotted mutated hares and rats four to five times their pre-apocalypse size. They were lightning-fast and extremely vigilant. Many of these rabbits, snakes, and rats were even slaughtering each other, purely to devour one another.

While searching abandoned buildings near the safe zone, some survivors had encountered attacks by hundreds, or even thousands, of mutated sparrows. These sparrows had beaks as sharp as iron and pecked with tremendous force. Several unwary survivors were eaten clean on the spot, terrifying countless others into never daring to venture out alone again.

With only half a day left until the departure for the migration to Kensington Base, the safe zone was a scene of bustling yet oppressive activity. All the survivors were completely engrossed in packing their meager supplies. Their fingertips were stiff from the bitter cold. Some of the supplies were frozen so solid that they had to repeatedly rub them with their frost-reddened palms just to force them into their backpacks or vehicles.

The nearly forty thousand official military and political personnel were already on full alert. They were the core security force for this migration.

At the edge of the safe zone, soldiers wore thickened winter camouflage uniforms with their collars and cuffs tightly secured. A fine layer of white frost condensed on the edges of their helmets. The white puffs of their breath quickly dispersed before their eyes, rapidly swallowed by the biting cold.

Every fifty meters stood a temporarily erected watchtower. The sentries in the towers held binoculars with eagle-eyed focus, constantly monitoring the surroundings. Occasionally, they would fire warning shots into the sky. The gunfire sounded somewhat muffled as it traveled through the damp, cold air, but it was enough to drive away or eliminate the low-level flying mutated birds trying to approach.

Meanwhile, engineering troops were rapidly overhauling military trucks, armored vehicles, and other transport equipment. The crisp sound of wrenches striking metal rang out clearly amidst the clamor. They repeatedly checked the tires, engines, and fuel lines, not daring to overlook a single detail.

Crowds gathered in front of the bulletin boards outside each command tent. People hunched their necks, tucked their hands away, and squeezed together for warmth, their exhaled breaths weaving into a hazy white fog.

Several soldiers held megaphones, repeatedly announcing the precautions for the migration. A layer of fine ice shards coated their uniforms. Their voices were hoarse from prolonged use and the invasive chill, yet they remained powerful.

Every word was wrapped in the icy air: "Attention, all personnel! Departure time is 8:00 AM tomorrow! Anyone failing to assemble by the deadline will be deemed to have automatically forfeited their right to migrate! Private vehicle convoys, please ensure you inspect your antifreeze and anti-skid devices in advance! You must closely follow the lead vehicle at all times! Unauthorized departure from the convoy is strictly prohibited!"

On the day of departure, at 5:00 AM, the sky was still pitch black. The night air continued to carry a heavy chill. Right on schedule, Luna Dawson flashed out of her spatial domain with the four little ones.

She thought she was already early enough, but to her surprise, everyone in the family except for Hector, who was still asleep, had already gotten up. They were gathered in the living and dining area on the first floor, quietly discussing the movements of the survivors outside. Their words were filled with a mix of anxiety and anticipation regarding the upcoming migration.

As soon as Luna opened the door, Lynn Shelby was the first to notice. She immediately rushed forward in excitement and scooped Little Tiger into a hug, her tone incredibly affectionate. "My sweet baby! Why does it feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!"

Beside them, Rollo enthusiastically dashed toward the crowd, wagging his tail crazily around everyone. He sensibly and evenly nudged each person, sharing his longing in his own special way. The others smiled and petted the dog, temporarily dispelling the heavy tension in the air.

Luna looked with amusement at the unconcealable anticipation and anxiety in everyone’s eyes, then slowly announced, "Purple Bean and Little Tiger have both reached the Fourth Rank!"

No sooner had she spoken than Purple Bean nimbly curled around Grandpa’s wrist, cheering excitedly, "Grandpa! Grandpa!"

Meanwhile, Little Sweet Potato stood obediently on the sofa, helping to translate Purple Bean’s words for everyone. The living room instantly erupted into joyous chatter.

"My baby is so amazing!" Lynn enthusiastically planted loud, smacking kisses all over Little Tiger’s head. The intensity of it made even Luna think it looked a bit unhinged.

Grandpa’s face was full of relief. He specifically aimed a smug remark at Evan Olson. "See? Bean is already at the Fourth Rank now. You can stop worrying about me being in danger at the Academy of Agricultural Sciences. Against anything at or below the Fourth Rank, it is an Absolute Defense."

Evan looked utterly helpless. He just hadn’t been able to stop himself from repeatedly giving instructions on what to do in case of danger. Seeing this, he could only compromise. "I know, I know. I never said I wouldn’t let you go."

Wayne Dawson chimed in at the right moment to reassure everyone. "Alright, now we have an extra layer of security! Those of us falling behind need to work even harder. We can’t let the little ones leave us too far in the dust!"

At this moment, Mrs. Dawson withdrew her gaze from the window. Outside, soldiers had already started bustling about, preparing for the various logistical details of the migration. She sighed softly. "I wonder how many dangers we’ll encounter on this journey."

Blake Blue quickly patted Mrs. Dawson’s back to comfort her. "Don’t worry, Auntie Lynn. We have plenty of firearms, plus nearly two thousand Superpower Users traveling with us!"

Miles Dawson also spoke up with a face full of confidence. "Rest assured! I will definitely do my absolute best to carry out this escort mission!"

Last time, neither Miles nor Aaron Palmer got to face off against that gigantic Fourth Rank zombie. Over the past couple of days, they had been constantly whining about it to Luna and Kevin Keane. Left with no other choice, the two had to promise several times that they would definitely bring them along next time, which finally got them to quiet down.

Kevin looked at Luna and asked, "What time are you going to distribute the supplies?"

Luna had just finished setting out breakfast and motioned for everyone to take a seat at the table. "No rush. I’ll go hand them out right after breakfast."

She knew very well that the reason Thomas Dalton insisted on waiting until right before boarding to distribute the one kilogram of grain per person was to ensure that everyone would still have emergency rations on the road to keep them alive. If they had been distributed any earlier, the food of countless people would have likely been stolen overnight. That would have triggered endless violent conflicts over food, creating nothing but unnecessary trouble.

The weather on the day of departure was clear, with bright sunlight illuminating the path that people would take toward Kensington Base. The people who had woken up early to wait, in accordance with the rules, actively sought out sunny spots to bask in the sunlight, greedily absorbing the rare warmth.

The temperature had risen by another five or six degrees compared to yesterday. For the officials, this was a rare opportunity, yet it also concealed endless anxiety.

Previously, hundreds of people in the safe zone had frozen to death every day due to the bitter cold. With the rising temperatures, this tragic situation was finally somewhat alleviated. However, what worried the leadership was that the temperature was increasing much faster than anticipated. They had to rush back to Kensington Base as quickly as possible. As the warmth grew stronger, the zombies’ movements would become increasingly agile, and the mutated animals around the city would roam more frequently. These were all deadly, unavoidable threats along the journey.

The sky had just barely begun to lighten with the pale glow of dawn. Though it was only 6:30 AM, the survivors in the safe zone had already gathered together, naturally dividing themselves into two distinctly separate groups.

One group consisted of survivors who owned private vehicles. They were busy performing their final checks on their cars and fuel tanks, silently calculating whether the fuel in their trunks would be enough to sustain them all the way back to Kensington. Most of this fuel had been scavenged at the risk of their lives, making every single drop extraordinarily precious. Nearby, quite a few military and police personnel were assisting with inspecting the vehicles’ conditions, specifically checking whether there was sufficient antifreeze and whether the tire chains were secure.

The survivors with private vehicles were free to decide how many supplies they wanted to carry, as long as their vehicles could handle the weight and keep up with the main convoy. Many had packed their backseats and trunks full to the brim with rice, flour, cooking oil, medicine, and clothing.