Magic Space: Struggling to Survive in the Apocalypse-Chapter 65: High Temperature, Refugees 3

"N-no." The woman licked her cracked lips and clumsily pulled her clothes together. Seeing a whip mark on the back of her chapped, rough hand, Evelyn Ford’s brow twitched, but she didn’t say anything more.

"Please, help us," the other woman begged, kneeling before Evelyn Ford.

"How?"

Tears welled in the woman’s eyes. "I know you’re all capable people. Just give us a place to stay. We’ll do anything you ask."

"Do you know why so many people died last night?"

The woman stared at Evelyn Ford in terror. "You..."

Evelyn Ford nodded. "I killed them." Then, she made a throat-slitting gesture.

The woman was so frightened she collapsed to the ground. Then she grabbed the other woman’s hand, and they scrambled away. Evelyn Ford slammed the security door shut with a CLANG and watched their retreating figures with a cold smile.

’Could anyone who’s survived this long be weak?’

Officer Graham and the others returned one by one, and Evelyn Ford told them what had just happened.

"There must be a group behind those two women. They’re controlling them, forcing them to use a honey trap to lure men for shelter or food. Or, they just turn the idiots who fall for it into food."

"The way those people were eating last night... that wasn’t their first time eating human flesh."

Officer Graham posed a question. "Are you saying the gang behind them is holding one of the women’s children hostage, and they’re using the child’s life to force them to do this?"

Evelyn Ford frowned. "There’s another possibility. The child might already be gone. I saw a lot of whip marks on both women. They might just be cooperating because they’re afraid of being beaten. When I asked her if she had just given birth, she actually looked terrified."

Quincy rubbed his temples. "I feel like there are hardly any normal people left in this world. It’s just full of lunatics."

The two women returned to the entrance of Building E, hesitating for a long time, not daring to go in. Just then, the door opened. A man stepped out, glanced left and right, and seeing nothing amiss, dragged the two of them inside.

"You failed?" A shirtless man sitting on a chair lifted his eyelids, a leather belt in his hand tapping rhythmically against his palm.

"Mr. Bernard, they wouldn’t even look at us. They had knives, and every one of them was vicious."

"Yara Caldwell, don’t you want your son anymore?" After Mr. Bernard spoke, the man who had opened the door went into a room and dragged out a little boy of about seven or eight.

Yara Caldwell knelt and kowtowed desperately. "Mr. Bernard, please, don’t hurt my son! I’ll go find them again. I’ll go right now. I swear I’ll complete the mission."

Mr. Bernard took a knife and tapped the little boy’s head with it twice. "First, tell me. How many of them are there?"

"Six of them. Three adult men, two teenage boys, and one small child." Apparently, she had mistaken Evelyn Ford for a man.

"Only six people? More than ten people died from poisoning in Building C last night. They must have been the ones who did it. It seems these people have quite a few good things on them. Yara Caldwell, Sheryl Finch, I’ll give you two days. If you can’t take them down... you know what I mean."

Yara Caldwell glanced at her son, whose face was pale with fright, and could only agree through her tears.

Just then, two men came forward and dragged the women into an adjacent room. Mr. Bernard patted Yara Caldwell’s son on the head and gestured for his underling to take the boy away.

"Ms. Caldwell, shouldn’t we try to escape?" Sheryl Finch, now bearing fresh wounds, whispered as she squatted in a corner.

"We can’t escape, Sheryl Finch. They have my son. I can’t escape."

Sheryl Finch looked up at her. "Ms. Caldwell, don’t you want revenge? Don’t you hate these bastards? They killed your one-month-old daughter, and they even..." Sheryl Finch couldn’t bring herself to say the rest.

"I have no choice, Sheryl Finch. I don’t have any better option. Trading her life for my son’s... I’ve wronged her. I hope she doesn’t hate me. I’m useless, powerless."

Sheryl Finch stared at her in disbelief. "Ms. Caldwell, that was your child, too! Just because she was a girl, you just fed her to that monster?"

Yara Caldwell’s eyes were bloodshot as she glared at Sheryl Finch. "What else could I do? They were going to eat my son! He’s my life! Besides, the baby was just born. She hadn’t even seen the world yet. She wouldn’t have felt the pain."

Sheryl Finch looked at her for a long time, her eyes filled with despair.

"You’re insane. You’re just like them—an animal, a bastard, a lunatic."

The number of refugees in the city was growing. The fire in Norcast had already spread to the city center, making it urgent to leave. But how to do so had become the biggest problem.

With so many refugees in the city, if they tried to drive out, they would immediately become a target and would undoubtedly be swarmed.

The survivors who had managed to escape to Corinth all had skills of their own. In the apocalypse, one should never underestimate anyone.

Underestimating your enemies would only lead to a more miserable death.

"I did some scouting. Some people also came here in vehicles—three-wheelers, vans, and motorcycles. When their main group leaves, we can blend in with them and leave without attracting attention."

For the past two days, Quincy had been borrowing Evelyn Ford’s binoculars to survey the situation outside, and the information he brought back was quite accurate.

"They probably want to scavenge for some supplies in the city before moving on, but there’s nothing left to find here. I estimate people will start leaving in a few days."

"Oh, right. I saw those two women downstairs again today. Have they not given up yet?"

Officer Graham, who was distributing sharpened knives to everyone, nodded upon hearing this.

"They probably still want to infiltrate our group. The people behind them likely think we have a lot of supplies."

It had to be said, Officer Graham had hit the nail on the head.

"I’ll say it again: don’t randomly show kindness to anyone you meet on the road, especially children, pregnant women, or the elderly. Often, the ones who look the most harmless are the most dangerous."

"So if we see someone in danger, should we help them?"

Officer Graham patted Owen Chapman’s head and gently shook his own.

"It’s best not to. All we can do is protect ourselves. As for others, we can’t save them. We’re not saviors, and we don’t have the power to rescue anyone else."

As for Wendy, Officer Graham lectured her several times a day, telling her not to shout, not to cry, not to scream, and not to go with strangers. He had hung a whistle around her neck so that if she was ever in danger, she could blow it and he could get to her immediately.

As more and more refugees arrived, the wild vegetables and giant rats outside were wiped out. The group double-locked their security door and holed up inside, waiting for the main refugee contingent to leave so they could blend into the convoy.

Meanwhile, Yara Caldwell and Sheryl Finch, still waiting for an opportunity, were getting beaten every day for their failure to complete the mission.