The Town of Greenwood.
Not far from Vascom, where the convoy had stopped, lay the small town of Greenwood. Nestled close to Shreveport, Greenwood was unlike other towns. It was overrun with infected, so many that just looking at them made one's skin crawl.
In the center of the town, inside a church, a dozen haggard men and women lay or sat on the pews, their eyes lifeless as they stared blankly ahead. Their faces were etched with despair. Food scraps littered the floor, and in the corners, several barrels overflowed with human waste, the stench of which was impossible to mask despite the covers placed on top.
In a corner away from the others, a father and daughter stood out. The father, a burly man in his forties with a rugged face and muscles rippling beneath his skin, peered through a crack in the boarded-up windows, his eyes filled with a determination to survive.
The daughter, a pretty teenager with brown hair, held a shotgun, her gaze wary as she watched the despondent group across from them.
These people were all trapped inside the church, and judging by the piles of food on the floor, they had been here for at least a month.
Suddenly, a man with tattoos covering his body and a mohawk hairstyle sat up in one of the pews. His eyes scanned the room listlessly until they landed on the father and daughter in the corner.
A sneer twisted his lips as he addressed the burly man, "Waverly, you've been staring out there for over a month. Haven't you given up yet? The infected are gathering more and more outside. We're not getting out, and no one's coming to save us. I suggest you just give up and enjoy what's left, like the rest of us."
He then turned his gaze to the pretty teenager, his eyes filled with lust, and said with a lecherous grin, "Your daughter is still a virgin, isn't she? Why not enjoy her before she leaves this world... Ah! Damn it!"
Before he could finish, the girl stood up, dropped her shotgun, picked up a slingshot from the ground, and shot a stone at the mohawked man. He had seen her move but was too lethargic from days of despair to dodge. The stone hit him square in the face, causing him to cry out in pain.
"Only a coward like you would be willing to die here," Waverly said coldly, turning away from the window to face the man. "And Ogden, if you ever speak to my daughter that way again, I'll cut your tongue out."
Then he turned to his daughter, who had a frosty expression on her face, and said, "Anna, you keep an eye on things."
"Sure, Dad," Anna replied, giving Ogden the finger before taking her father's place and focusing her attention on the outside world.
"You... you!" Ogden, holding his now bruised face, pointed at the father and daughter who completely ignored him.
If it weren't for the gun in their hands, he would have already taught them a lesson. His anger was futile, and all he could do was glare at them with venom in his eyes. He then dragged a middle-aged woman, who was half-dressed and lying on the floor, into the prayer room to vent his frustration.
In no time, sounds of Ogden's satisfied shouts and the woman's pained moans came from the prayer room.
Waverly paid no attention to the commotion. He sat down where Anna had been, leaned back against the wall, and closed his eyes, thinking of a way to escape.
He and his daughter Anna were not residents of this town. They had been trapped here during the Cordyceps outbreak.
Originally, a hundred-man military squad had come to the town, planning to escort everyone to the quarantine zone in Shreveport using their vehicles.
But just as they were about to leave, countless infected suddenly burst out from somewhere. It was the first time he had seen those monsters. They stormed into the town, slaughtering people on the streets. Even now, he could recall the terror and despair on the faces of those who tried to flee.
The soldiers tried to fight off the infected, but their rifles were no match for the overwhelming numbers. Most died at the hands of the infected, with only a few soldiers who had the sense to flee to the trucks managing to escape.
The town's residents retreated to their homes, but he, his daughter, and a dozen other workers had narrowly made it to the church in the town center, escaping the infected's grasp.
Although most residents had fled to their homes, the infected broke windows and stormed inside. Only those who had barricaded their doors and windows in time survived. But with the streets filled with infected, they couldn't escape.
The next day, those who had been bitten at home turned into infected. With no knowledge of how to protect themselves, friends and family members were also bitten and turned. Waverly had even seen a young boy, in a panic, open his front door and run into the street, forgetting that there were even more infected out there. He was brutally beaten to death by the horde.
Even those who hadn't been bitten faced a more brutal crisis—starvation. As food supplies dwindled, some tried to venture out to find more, but the infected outside gave them no chance. Most didn't make it far before being killed.
As time went on and food became scarcer, people began to shed their moral constraints. They fought over the remaining food, beating their family members who tried to take some. Some, driven mad by hunger, even turned their gaze to their loved ones, becoming monsters themselves.
In just a month, most of the town's residents either became infected while searching for food or were brutally killed by their own family and friends, becoming food themselves. Waverly knew all of this because he had seen it all through the windows over the past month.
If it weren't for the fact that they had been packing food before the outbreak and had brought a good amount with them when they fled to the church, they might have become one of those monsters or infected outside...
But their situation wasn't much better now. Food was running out, and the infected outside showed no signs of leaving.
The dozen or so men and women who had fled into the church with them had given up hope of escape and gradually succumbed to despair. They indulged themselves without restraint, enjoying their final moments before death.
As Waverly sat there, lost in thought, a series of distant explosions from outside the church jolted him awake. He quickly stood up and asked, "What's going on out there?"
Anna, who was also unsure, replied uncertainly, "It... it sounds like explosions. They're coming from the west, but they seem pretty far away."
"Who's in the west?" Waverly turned to the despondent group, hoping someone could shed light on the situation. They weren't locals and didn't know much about the area.
The dozen or so people had also heard the explosions and stood up. A young black man spoke up, "The west is Vascom. It's not far from here, just a 10-minute walk."
"Is someone coming to rescue us?" A blonde woman stood up, her face lighting up with hope. The despair that had clung to her heart was replaced by a will to survive.
Even Ogden, who had been in the middle of his lewd activities in the prayer room, tumbled out, his pants still around his ankles, his face equally excited.
Ah——!
As they talked, the infected in the town, drawn by the explosions from the west, turned their attention that way. They hadn't seen any prey yet, so they just stood there, unmoving.
But the successive explosions caught their attention completely. With a roar, the horde of infected began to move, slowly making their way along the highway toward the west.
"Hehe..." Waverly watched the scene outside with barely contained joy. He said excitedly, "The infected are moving. Even without rescue, we can leave now!"
At his words, everyone's spirits lifted. They all began to celebrate, as if they had been given a new lease of life.
No one noticed that after Ogden's initial elation, his gaze drifted toward Anna, who was silently watching by the window. He unconsciously licked his dry lips, and a strange smile spread across his face...