Chapter 206
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 206
Chapter Title: Survivors (9)
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The CIA agents showed off their exceptional skills on the table with nine balls racked up. Even Winter, with his sharpened senses, could only manage a decent showing against them. Joanna looked baffled.
“You guys eat, sleep, and just play pool or what?”
She had started with her usual fiery spirit, but the skill gap was massive. In the end, she stepped back to watch. It was entertaining enough just observing.
Half of it was a deliberately created relaxed atmosphere. Kowalski seemed to sense that this gathering was a gesture of consideration toward her. She hesitated at times but tried to enjoy the game. When her eyes met someone else's, she gave a shy smile. It was hard to recall her initial confident demeanor.
Just a few days, yet fear and loneliness could weaken a person so much.
That very fragility could be the turning point for change. If she cooperated sincerely, she might even end up as a spy within the CIA's secret faction.
The evidence Joanna had secured was limited to matters related to human experimentation. It would deal a blow, but rooting out every member of the "True Patriots" would be difficult. They were likely seasoned figures in intelligence circles. They wouldn't have failed to prepare for the worst case.
Thus, assuming the need for an inside collaborator, it was better to delay public disclosure and conduct a covert investigation. It was all to eradicate one destabilizing element in the world from its roots.
To that end, it was wise to sway Kowalski's heart while the opportunity lasted.
A vibration snapped him out of his thoughts.
Clack-clack. The glass on the table rattled. The light fixture swayed lightly, and the balls shifted from their spots. Even untouched ones began rolling slowly. Tucker raised both hands.
“Well, damn. An earthquake right when we're almost done...”
This area, close to the bay region, was prone to tremors. People often overlooked them, but distinct ones like this weren't rare. Joanna began clearing the table.
“That's it for today. There are people waiting, anyway.”
Even lounge use followed a queue. There was only one green table.
Business was business, and games were games. The agents grumbled in disappointment as they dispersed. Their stay here would end tomorrow anyway. The long journey to Yuba City ahead would be days without much diversion.
Amid the scattering agents, Kowalski spotted Winter's gesture and hesitated. Talbot and Joanna pretended not to notice and walked away.
Winter stepped outside first. He'd ensured no light leaked, so beyond the building lay clear starlit darkness. Shadows paced atop the watchtower.
Creak. The door opened behind him. After the sliver of light from the gap vanished, quiet footsteps approached the railing. The breeze between them felt like an invisible curtain.
After waiting long enough, Winter asked.
“Tired?”
“......”
Kowalski burst into tears. She tried to hold them back, but to no avail. Lonely droplets like beads of water fell one by one. Each hot and heavy.
It felt like seeing a prisoner locked in solitary for days. Her guilt was the iron bars.
Of course, some rationalization and self-justification likely lingered. People without other ways to affirm themselves struggled to accept their wrongs in their hearts, even if they knew better in their heads.
Pushing her wouldn't change anything. Not unless he intended to kill her.
So Winter tried to affirm her, even if just a little.
“Agent Kowalski. You helped with something truly horrific.”
Kowalski, her throat tight, barely nodded.
“You probably didn't directly conduct the human experiments, but even as a liaison, the responsibility is grave.”
“Yes......”
“No excuse or justification can forgive that kind of wrongdoing. That's how I see it.”
“......”
There was room for mitigation, though. In a situation where the organization's reach was unknown, becoming a whistleblower wasn't an easy choice. In the worst case, she'd have been executed.
That was Joanna's conclusion after an interrogation-like interview.
In secretive intelligence agencies, some autonomy and corruption were commonplace. She seemed to have accepted it mechanically as part of that. Why else would the FBI dispatch overseers to the CIA? The CIA had even systematically tortured U.S. citizens on U.S. soil.
In other words, a passive accomplice.
Joanna had joked bitterly about whether it was pity or witness protection, but if she truly saw Kowalski as irredeemably vile, she wouldn't have arranged today's gathering.
How much was true? Winter decided to trust the overseer's judgment.
“What I'm saying is, your punishment won't end the matter.”
He paused for breath before continuing.
“Suppose I tore you apart and killed you in the most agonizing way possible. What comfort would that bring the victims? They're already dead......”
Revenge was for the living. Claims of doing it for the dead were ultimately just the grief and rage of the survivors. Legal punishment was the same.
“Make sure nothing like this happens again. You know better than anyone what you can do and what the real best course is. If this incident is properly exposed, it'll greatly improve conditions for the refugees. That's the only reason we're keeping you alive. Carry that guilt to your grave.”
“......Lieutenant. Do you despise me, by any chance?”
Winter gazed at her steadily before replying.
“Cry it out. I'll be right here.”
The sentries patrolling the perimeter froze at a distance, wondering what was happening. Winter pressed a finger to his lips. They hesitated, then returned the way they came. The outpost was small anyway; circling back was quick. With Winter here, no need for extra checks.
Midnight approached, the forest rustling in the wind.
After comforting Kowalski and sending her inside, Winter retired to rest himself. It wasn't true sleep in the full sense—just maintaining his in-world condition.
The "Day after Apocalypse" timeline couldn't perfectly match the physical world's, considering audiences in other realms. Only after they returned to their arduous daily routines would the boy finally get a long break.
A brief rest wasn't bad, though......
Unfortunately, not tonight.
Clang-clang-clang—clang-clang—clang-clang-clang—clang-clang—
The CQ watchstanders blared with harsh metal sounds. It was the battle stations signal, substituting for a siren.
There was a pattern to it. Continuous drumming signaled variant infiltration inside. This wasn't that. The threat was external. Whatever it was, rousing the entire force meant it wasn't ordinary.
Winter had lain down still in his combat gear. He armed up and dashed out the moment his eyes opened.
“Excel!”
The sensitive animal had already woken amid the indoor commotion. Fully tamed via "Mounted Combat," it wasn't tied anymore and came running at its master's call. Winter mounted the black steed. He grabbed the iron bar from the saddle and scanned the surroundings while waiting.
Mobile team members followed. "Mobile team" was the provisional name for the most skilled riders. They mounted hastily and gathered around Winter.
“Heard any situation reports?”
The soldiers exchanged glances and shook their heads at Winter's question. Sergeant Morales answered.
“Nothing yet. Looks like you don't know either, Lieutenant.”
The mystery didn't last. Captain Langford himself came on from the command post.
[Baker Actual broadcasting situation. Local time 01:48, five gunshots from north of primary settlement. Multiple sentries reported it—solid intel. Distance unknown. Possible friendly survivors. Break.]
Baker was the provisional company callsign. Fitting for Fort Baker survivors.
North of the primary settlement meant a small town or large village 3 kilometers out. Point Reyes Station. Over 40 minutes on foot, but quick on horseback. Outer recon had found no threats then. Only traces of variants migrating east in hordes.
After a brief pause, the transmission resumed.
[War Horse, advance along the primary settlement. Prioritize safety and search until support arrives, but if needed, enter the town at Baker 1 Actual's discretion. Over?]
Even indoors and asleep, Winter hadn't heard shots. The incident was at least 20-30 minutes away on foot.
War Horse naturally meant the mobile team. Winter keyed the radio.
"Baker 1 Actual copies. War Horse moving out now."
The disturbed horses snorted irritably. They weren't rolling over, at least—a blessing.
The mobile team exited through the gate opened by sentries. Just days ago, trees obscured views, but the soldiers' hard work creating a defile now left sightlines open all around.
A cloudless, fogless night. Soldiers donned night vision, but Winter saw far with naked eyes. "Environmental Adaptation" might come soon. Day and night visibility would equalize.
Post office, church, and carpenter's shop flashed by as the village ended. Northeast, 100 meters out, a single artificial light flickered. Wires from a pole, deliberately strung. With other directions blocked, light leaked only in the narrow angle toward the outpost. Approaching variants would spot it and veer away. Same trap south of the village.
A map and sign marking company HQ hung where the light shone, so no human would be fooled.
As expected, no variants in the trap.
Winter led the mobile team up the ridge right of the road for better visibility. Sure, their shadow on the ridgeline would be visible to variants. But they could outpace them. Confidence in spotting and evading first. Regular variants— not ghouls—had poorer night vision than humans. Sound was unavoidable, though.
Far off in the moonlit direction, away from the village, ruins of a ranch appeared. Under starlight near the horizon, another ranch—the settlement's gateway.
‘Real U.S. military survivors?’
The approach direction seemed odd for that. Bay Area military footholds clustered at Golden Gate and Angel Island. Escapers would more likely appear south or east of the outpost. Possible they wandered mountains while pursued, veering wrong.
The mobile team reached the town edge in five minutes.
A stream flowing to nearby marshlands formed the south boundary. Morales perked his ears.
“Lieutenant. You hear that now?”
Winter nodded. Amid the stream's rush, town noises carried clearly. Most prominent: variant shrieks. Others: discordant crashes as they bumped and smashed about.
“Whatever it is, means the bastards still have reason to rampage.”
“What's the plan? Risky going in with just us five at this hour, but if survivors, we might miss a rescue window waiting for backup.”
Winter glanced at the team. Soldiers looked concerned. Ample ammo would change that, but they had barely two mags per person.
The settlement required caution even daytime. The safety-first order wasn't idle. Too many obstacles. Permission to enter at Winter's judgment, but Langford urged maximum care.
“Crank the radio power and follow.”
The soldiers followed Winter's decision with grim faces.