Mount Lao Survivors

Three Northeastern Provinces War Zone, Mount Lao Safe Zone.

Several Awakened wearing work-safety uniforms lay atop the cargo truck, listlessly scanning the area around the convoy.

At the front of the truck, inside a section enclosed with crude sheet metal, an old machine gun that looked like it had been salvaged from a museum was mounted there.

Bullets were precious. The Awakened responsible for guarding the machine gun repeatedly wiped the white broadsword in his hands.

This was his only piece of equipment.

"Grrr—"

Their stomachs growling, the few people on watch idly joked around, but the hunger in their bellies kept making them glance at the several bags of rice loaded inside the truck.

I'm so hungry.

Pots, bowls, pans—anything that could be used had been loaded onto the truck. As a result, the inside of the cargo truck looked just like a garbage dump.

The journey was smooth. The Zombies along the route had long since been swept away by the convoys coming and going, while large, dangerous Zombie Tides had been lured away by designated personnel.

Once people had nothing to do, the enticing hunger felt like a venomous snake burrowing through their bellies, occasionally tying itself into knots and churning their insides until their eyes glazed over.

In the apocalypse, even Awakened often went hungry one meal and ate their fill the next.

"We brought too little food this time. I wonder how much we'll have left after deducting the share we need to trade for gasoline."

"If this keeps up, our Gathering Place is probably going to fall apart."

An older Awakened, a rag hanging around his neck, gave a bitter laugh and looked at his companions.

The Gathering Place he spoke of consisted of several sheet-metal rooms built near the Mount Lao Safe Zone.