The Price of Survival

Rushing all the way, Jason and his team finally made it out of the city, carrying the precious medicine.

This time, in addition to anti-toxin drugs, they had secured anti-toxin serums and several commonly used medications.

Fortunately, they had also found a small refrigerator, and the house they raided had a working generator—enough to keep the medicines viable for now.

"Bro, slow down! I'm scared!"

Moore, sitting in the back, was trembling from head to toe.

His eyes were wide with terror as he clutched the artillery shell tightly in his arms, afraid it would jolt loose during a bump and blow them all to pieces.

Jason pretended not to hear him and floored the gas pedal.

There was no time to waste—the kids needed those medicines as soon as possible.

Meanwhile, Dale, keeping watch from the top of the RV, spotted smoke rising in the distance.

He grabbed his binoculars, peered closely, and shouted excitedly,

"They're back!"

Hearing the shout, Rick ran outside immediately, standing anxiously at the intersection, waiting.

Moments later, Jason's car screeched into view and pulled up steadily at the entrance to the camp.

"Did you find the medicine?!" Rick rushed over, barely able to contain himself.

Several children had already fallen unconscious, and without any real medical knowledge in the group, Rick had been wracked with worry.

Jason handed him a small box.

"This is the anti-toxin, this is the serum, and here's the nutrient solution.

Use all of them together."

He had read the pharmacy's instructions carefully.

Because the anti-toxin and serum rapidly drained the body's nutrients, they had to be administered alongside nutrient fluid—or else the children's bodies might not withstand the treatment.

"Thank God!"

Rick, overwhelmed with relief, pulled Jason into a tight hug—and then embraced the others as well, gratitude shining in his eyes.

The only person in the camp with even basic medical knowledge was Carol, who had studied surgical nursing.

Without hesitation, she took charge, starting IV drips for the children with steady, practiced hands.

Meanwhile, in the car...

"Hey, you guys forgot about me!" Moore whimpered.

His legs were completely numb, and his arms were frozen around the artillery shell.

He didn't dare move an inch, afraid any sudden motion might set it off.

T-dog (T) walked over, planning to help Moore out.

But when he got a good look at what Moore was holding, he was so shocked he dropped onto the ground, his eyes nearly popping out of his head.

Being a big guy, his exaggerated reaction was both hilarious and alarming at once.

"What's going on?"

Rick, having just checked on the children, walked over to investigate.

T, still too scared to speak properly, just pointed frantically at Moore.

Rick stepped closer to the car—

—and immediately recoiled, swearing loudly.

"Holy shit! Where the hell did you get that?!"

After a tense few minutes, they managed to safely secure the shell.

It would be kept as an absolute last resort—and only if they had no other options left.

The events of the day felt surreal.

First, they'd found an abandoned tank.

Then, they stumbled across signs for an evacuation zone—only to discover charred corpses lining the streets.

But despite everything, Jason's mind kept circling back to one thing:

The man with the tattoo.

It wasn't the burned city that worried him.

It wasn't even the collapsing society.

It was the existence of an unknown organization—one that was clearly armed, organized, and ruthless.

And that was a far greater threat than any zombie horde.

Later that night, after the children had stabilized, Shane gathered everyone around.

"We need to talk about relocating the camp," Shane said grimly.

"Today I saw it with my own eyes—the zombies are leaving the city.

Out here in the wild, there's nothing to stop them.

It's just a matter of time before they find us."

Silence fell over the camp as the weight of his words sank in.

They had survived another day.

But tomorrow was far from certain.