Chương 65: Walkie-Talkies

"Claire! You must be Claire!" Zoe suddenly darted in front of Claire, grabbing her hand and calling out with profound, immediate affection.

"Uh..." Claire smiled politely and greeted her, then turned her head toward Vince. Her eyes flashed frantic SOS signals, practically screaming: Who is this filthy, mud-caked little girl? Aren't you going to introduce us...? But Vince didn't panic in the slightest. Knowing Zoe, he didn't need to introduce her. Give it a few seconds, and she would spill her entire life story completely unprompted.

"Claire! My name is Zoe! This is my brother... (200 words omitted)... Oh my god, Claire, you're so pretty! No wonder Dage kept calling out 'Claire' while he was unconscio—Mmph!" Hearing the conversation veer into incredibly dangerous territory, Vince instantly lunged forward, grabbed her by the collar, and physically shut her down!

"Don't spout nonsense..." Vince threatened quietly.

"Got it, Dage!" Zoe: [Obedient. jpg] Catching the hidden implication in the girl's unfinished sentence, Claire immediately realized Vince wasn't as perfectly healthy as he appeared. She reached out and pulled Zoe away from Vince and to her own side.

"Zoe, tell me everything your Dage did..." As she spoke, she shot Vince a piercing, venomous side-eye. Seeing the situation spiral entirely out of his control, Vince decided to just let it burn. He was fully healed now anyway; he had just wanted to save her the unnecessary worry... Seeing Cody and Seth currently hauling cases of water from the van into the clinic, he called the two boys over and led them east down the street.

Thirty to forty corpses lay haphazardly across the eastern stretch of the avenue—a mix of the zombies Vince had just slaughtered and the previous casualties of the thugs' reign. The bolder survivors had already ventured out of their apartment buildings, slipping into the south-facing storefronts to scavenge for whatever supplies might remain. Among them was Ben's group. Their numbers had grown to seven or eight men. However, they weren't rushing to scavenge the storefronts.

Instead, they were crouching by the side of the road, methodically looting the corpses on the asphalt one by one.

"Ben, looks like your squad has expanded..." Vince called out casually from a distance.

"Vince, you're finished with your business... They're all friends. We're just checking to see if there's anything useful left..." Hearing the voice, Ben turned around. Seeing Vince approaching, he hurriedly stood up, hastily wiped a black-and-yellow object on his pants, trotted over, and offered it to him.

"... This is a walkie-talkie we looted off that stuttering thug and his crew. We don't really have any use for it..." While driving the convoy today, Vince had just been thinking how incredibly useful two-way radios would be. He had scoured the gas station earlier but found nothing. He hadn't expected them to fall right into his lap here. Vince's gaze swept over the radio, then shifted up to Ben's face. He didn't stand on ceremony and reached out to take it. This wasn't just a gift; it was a "token of allegiance."

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work. Ben was using this gesture to clearly declare his faction's stance and submission. Besides, these radios were likely about to run out of battery anyway. Even if Ben kept them, he didn't have anywhere to charge them.

"Perfect timing. I was just trying to figure out where to scavenge a few of these. How many are there in total?" Vince casually handed the radio to Cody trailing behind him, gesturing for him to stow it in his backpack, before asking Ben with an amiable smile. Prompted by Vince's question, Ben quickly turned and asked the men behind him. They gathered five more walkie-talkies and handed the entire bundle over to Vince.

Vince had no idea what that stuttering thug's crew used to do for a living to possess so many radios. They were roughly the same size but all different models. However, after a quick glance, Vince noted they all used Type-C charging ports, meaning he could easily charge them in his vehicles. Vince tilted his head. Stepping up flawlessly, Cody opened his backpack and dutifully collected all the radios from Ben's hands.

"Um... Vince, should we go check out the back of the supermarket now?" Seeing Vince accept the radios, Ben immediately tried to close the social gap. Although the young man in front of him was definitely younger than his own forty-odd years, given the man's terrifying, lethal skills, Ben treated him with absolute respect. Vince, however, wasn't quite used to the sudden shift in dynamics. Having a burly, middle-aged man acting so deferential was slightly awkward.

But people could call him whatever they wanted; Vince had no intention of getting too deeply entangled with them anyway. The more people there were, the more of an administrative nightmare it became to manage them. As long as he had enough hands for his daily operations, he was satisfied. Ben seemed like a smart, capable guy; he could figure out his own limits. For Vince, selling a favor in exchange for some convenience was more than enough.

"Ben, right before that stuttering idiot died, he screamed that he had food and water stashed in his apartment. Ask around and find out where he lived. Don't forget to grab it..." Since Ben was being so cooperative, Vince decided to return the favor. He currently had enough food and water to cram three vehicles full to bursting; he had zero interest in more basic rations.

Even if he didn't mention it, these survivors would definitely try to track the stash down anyway, so he might as well just toss them the intel as a freebie.

"Right, right, okay. I'll have them ask around immediately. If we find anything good, I'll have it sent straight to your clinic..."

"Uh... sure..." Vince was about to casually refuse, but on second thought, if they wanted to offer tribute, he should let them. Acting completely disinterested in loot might make him look a little too suspiciously wealthy... Glancing at the men behind Ben, Vince suddenly spoke up:"Ben, lend me a few hands. Let's move those three wrecked cars to the side of the road. They're blocking the middle of the street, making it a pain for the RVs to get through."

Vince didn't expect the two boys trailing him to exert any real force. Even the most malnourished of Ben's men still had 50 or 60 Max HP. The two students behind him were still hovering in the 30s. He needed to let them rest and fatten up for a couple of days first. Besides, he had free manual labor right in front of him; why not use it?

"Done. You just wait here, we'll handle it. Let's go, boys, we're moving some cars..." Ben had been wondering what Vince was going to ask. In this apocalyptic world, the most terrifying thing wasn't being used; it was having absolutely zero value to be used in the first place. Hearing it was just a menial physical task, he enthusiastically waved his men forward and jogged over to the three wrecked cars blocking the center of the avenue.

These three cars had been blocking the road since the day Vince woke up from his coma. Although the keys were still in the ignitions, the windows were shattered, and the interiors had been soaked by torrential rain for days. The engines were completely dead. The convoy had barely managed to weave around them earlier. The cargo van was fine, but the RVs were wide and long; Cody had actually scraped the side of his RV while maneuvering past.

If they needed to drive the RVs to the supermarket entrance later to provide power, Vince didn't want them risking a blown tire on the jagged wreckage. Since he had the manpower right now, he might as well clear the obstacle. Ben and six other survivors lined up along the side of a wrecked sedan. He stood in the middle, with three men on either side. At his shout, they all heaved together. With a loud creak, the two wheels on their side lifted steadily off the asphalt.

Flipping a car was undeniably easier than lifting and carrying it. Under normal circumstances, seven grown men could easily roll a standard sedan onto its side. But over the past few days, these men had been severely sleep-deprived and starving. Their physical conditions had deteriorated drastically. They only managed to lift the car a few dozen centimeters into the air before their strength gave out, unable to push it past the tipping point.

Seeing this, Vince quickly stepped forward, found an empty spot on the chassis, gripped the metal, and unleashed an explosive burst of force. The other men instantly felt the crushing weight vanish from their hands. Even Ben couldn't help but gasp internally. With that single heave, Vince was practically lifting half the car's entire weight by himself!