On the ninth day of the summer harvest, the three scavenging teams brought back another batch of water totes, seventeen across various sizes, estimated to hold roughly twenty thousand pounds of grain.

That same day, the second batch entered the warehouse. Around thirteen thousand pounds.

Day ten, scavenging continued, but the returns visibly dropped. Eight totes. Twelve to thirteen thousand pounds, maybe.

That same day, the third batch went into the warehouse. Around eleven thousand pounds.

Day eleven, the scavenging stopped.

Lin Feng accepted reality and shifted tactics, designating the barn on a farm seven miles out as the secondary storage site. Shane took a crew over to clear the place, then ran a full inspection and patched what needed patching, stringing a perimeter of wire mesh to keep the rats out.

Hershel went along too, looked the barn over, and came back with a nod.

Lin Feng let out a quiet breath. Grain theft was a real risk. But there was nothing else to be done.

Passive acceptance. Regular patrols. That was the plan.

The horizontal metal fuel tanks Tolga and Fatin had mentioned did exist out there, they just weighed too much to haul back, so those got written off entirely.

The harvesting itself never stopped. Two combine harvesters kept circling and cutting through someone else's... their own wheat fields.

Hershel had read the sky and pulled Lin Feng aside about it: speed things up. The rainy season was coming.

No firm date, but once it started, it would run at least a week. Any wheat still standing in the fields when that happened was done, rotting where it stood.

The camp's rhythm didn't change, though. There was no pushing harder; capacity was capacity. Over ten thousand pounds of wheat a day was already the ceiling.

Andrew's temper had been fraying for days now, and nobody blamed it. Things had been fine early on, but lately it was one breakdown after another, a belt snapping on one side, an engine acting up on the other.

The hit to harvest efficiency was real. And with Hershel's rainy season warning hanging overhead, Andrew was practically climbing the walls.

Lin Feng had tried offering some reassurance. Completely useless. If anything, it made things worse, Andrew only sank deeper into guilt, moping through the days convinced that every mechanical failure was a personal failure dragging Lin Feng down.

Out of ideas, Lin Feng passed the problem off to his father-in-law and Dale Horvath. Let the two old-timers sit Andrew down after dinner and talk some sense into the kid.

That hadn't even fully resolved before Marcus jogged over with news: Kyle Crane was awake.

Rahim heard it too, and quietly slipped into Crane's tent, administered a shot of Antizin, and slipped right back out.

Getting jabbed in that condition, body already on the mend, left Crane worse off than before. Even speaking came out low and strained.

When Lin Feng and Marcus stepped inside together, Crane's instincts kicked in immediately. Eyes moving, reading the room, landing on Lin Feng.

First time meeting the man, but Crane placed him immediately.

That face. That bearing. There was no mistaking it.

"Lin?"

"Yeah. How are you holding up?"

"Terrible. Like I've rusted solid. Everything's stiff and wrong."

"Then rest. You're safe here—better than Harran, at least. But I'm curious." Lin Feng settled back slightly. "How did you all get out?"

Crane's eyes shifted. "Uh... Jade didn't tell you?"

"Camp's been running flat-out. Haven't had the headspace to ask."

Crane went tense. "Has someone targeted us?"

"No. We've been harvesting wheat. Drying it, sealing the bins, tracking down containers to hold all of it."

A strange feeling moved through Crane's chest. Harvesting wheat. In this world. There were still actual working farmlands to harvest from?

Wasn't everyone supposed to be penned inside dying cities, surrounded by Virals, Volatiles, Toads, and Bombers, burning through whatever was left just to see the next morning?

Lin Feng sounded less like a survivor and more like a farmer.

"Uh... that's good. At least it means we're safe..."

"So. Can you talk now?"

Crane's eyes shifted again. "It was Demolishers. To be specific—Demolishers unlike anything I've ever seen."

"Every single one, three meters tall. Muscles like knotted rope. Red eyes. Berserk. Unreal strength." Crane paused. "And they weren't just mindless—they had some level of intelligence. They'd rip up streetlights and road signs to use as weapons."

"The route we escaped through? Those things punched it open. Smashed straight through a high wall."

Lin Feng listened, and knew immediately that Crane was leaving something out.

What was being described tracked too closely with a Tyrant, something engineered by the Umbrella Corporation. Or not just close to one.

It was a Tyrant.

And Tyrants weren't a product of natural mutation. They were biological weapons, purpose-built by Umbrella.

"Those Demolishers," Lin Feng said, "were wearing black trench coats, weren't they."

Crane stared. "How did you know... Have you fought them?"

The corner of Lin Feng's mouth curved. "No. Just a guess."

Crane had nothing to say to that. Staring at Lin Feng's expression, there was a distinct, nagging sense that this person already knew exactly what was going on.

Then again. Crane was keeping secrets too, so.

Lin Feng patted Crane on the shoulder. "Get some rest. Focus on recovering. I'll have someone bring dinner in later."

A quiet acknowledgment from Crane, and Lin Feng and Marcus stepped out.

Marcus turned it over before speaking. "Crane seemed to be holding something back."

"Let it go. When the time comes and Crane wants to talk, it'll come out."

And if it never came out, that was fine too. Lin Feng already had a decent picture of the situation.

Lin Feng stood there, hands on hips, expression thoroughly unbothered. When it came to people who'd dropped in from other worlds...

Marcus caught that look, calm, unhurried, completely certain, and left it alone. Footsteps easy, Marcus headed off to bring Cathy back to camp for dinner, and to check in on Lori's condition while at it.

No choice there. The whole camp had been running nonstop, so daily supervision of the three kids had defaulted to Lori. And honestly? The constant company seemed to be doing Lori good, better energy, better spirits than in the days before.

The three of them weren't the chaos-and-destruction type either. The only real conflict brewing was the ongoing debate between Carl and Cathy over whether a baby brother or a baby sister was the superior option.

Cathy, being the youngest, was firmly pro-brother. Carl was unimpressed by this and held out just as firmly for sister.

The back-and-forth volleys had apparently been loud enough to draw a laugh out of Abraham, up on watchtower duty...

Jade visited Crane's tent after Lin Feng's visit, stayed a long while, and came out with the quiet remnants of grief still showing.

Lin Feng was passing by with a meal tray and let it go unacknowledged. For someone like Jade, sympathy would land wrong. That kind of weight got carried inward, worked through in private.

Maggie did drift over, though. And Andrea came along too, having heard from Maggie how capable Jade was, Andrea wanted to pick up a few things. Wanted to be able to protect Amy properly.

After dinner, everyone moved out to the threshing ground and packed the day's dried wheat into the totes. Another twelve thousand pounds into storage.

Day eleven of the summer harvest, done.

Less than a third of the territory marked on Maggie's map had been touched. But the camp's stored wheat had already crossed fifty thousand pounds.

➤ Next: Camp Free-for-All — Steel and Blood

Chapter 98 - Camp Free-for-All — Steel and Blood

Day twenty-one of the summer harvest. Mid-June, early morning. The rain came without warning.

Lin Feng watched fat raindrops fall from the sky outside the canopy, hammering into the grass, bending the blades flat before they sprang back up.

He crouched at the edge of the oversized canopy, brow tight, cigarette pinched between his fingers burning down to nothing until the heat bit into his skin and snapped him back.

Hershel stood off to one side and let out a quiet sigh, eyes full of regret.

Once rain like this settled in, it wouldn't let up for at least a week.

Which meant the fifty-thousand-plus pounds of wheat stacked at the threshing floor, grain that hadn't fully dried, would all go to waste.

Lin Feng rubbed his face, stared up at the dark clouds hanging over the sky like an iron curtain, and exhaled slowly.

He could understand it. He could even accept it. It still felt like hell.

Fifty thousand pounds of wheat. Enough to feed the camp for three or four years. And now all he could do was watch it rot.

At the main gate, Rick, Glenn, and a few others came riding back on horseback. After returning the horses to the stables, Rick walked over in a raincoat, face streaked with something that could've been sweat or rain, impossible to tell.

"Barn Two's holding up fine. No problem getting through this stretch."

Lin Feng gave a small nod. "All right. Get a patrol rotation set up for that barn too — check on it regularly. That's eighty thousand pounds of grain. Nothing can go wrong with it."

Rick nodded, wiped the water from Rick's face, flicked it onto the ground, and asked offhandedly, "What's the plan for today? Day off?"

Even saying it, Rick felt the words belonged to a different world entirely.

Walkers everywhere, and they were talking about days off. Absurd...

Marcus stepped over and handed Rick a towel. "Carol brewed some ginger tea. You all should go drink some before long — don't want anyone catching a cold."

"Thanks, Marcus."

Marcus waved it off and walked away.

Lin Feng pulled his attention back and looked at Rick. "Let's take the day. Starting tomorrow, have Abraham and Orion set up weapons training. Especially the runners, every single one of them needs to learn."

Rick dried off and nodded. "Got it. I'll go tell them."

Inside the camp, people were already going stir-crazy.

Hard to blame them. Life had been running like clockwork gears up until now, constantly turning, and this sudden stop left everyone feeling off-balance.

Eyes open, eat and work. Eyes shut, sleep and repeat. That had been the rhythm.

Rick gave the gathered crowd a quick rundown, and most scattered immediately, retreating to their tents.

Rain outside, nothing to do. Lying down and sleeping was about all that was left.

Maggie and Andrea latched onto Jade again. The two had become Jade's shadows at this point, the moment there was no work, there they were. Jade, worn down past the point of resistance, had no choice but to nod along and start teaching them hand-to-hand.

Watching from nearby, Glenn felt the itch too. But the target Glenn had fixed on was Orion, the quietest person in the entire camp.

Daryl didn't talk much, sure, but when something went sideways, at least a string of curses would come out.

Orion just handled it quietly, and went back to being quiet.

Orion looked up and glanced over at Glenn, catching the earnestness in those eyes. He stopped wiping down his gun.

"To what level? Subduing a captive and killing someone are two entirely different things."

Glenn took a breath. "The second one. I want to keep up with everyone else."

Orion raised an eyebrow, mildly surprised, and looked past Glenn toward Lin Feng. Lin Feng gave a small nod. Orion looked back.

"Fine. But you're going to take a lot of hits. You sure about that?"

Glenn nodded without hesitation. "I'm sure."

Orion's mouth curved slightly. In a few practiced moves, the Beretta M9 on the ground was reassembled and slid into its holster.

"Then let's go. Show me your foundation first. Come at me full force."

Glenn looked at Orion standing two paces away, loose and unhurried, and settled into a basic fighting stance. Then threw a right hook with everything behind it.

Orion caught it one-handed. Didn't even shift his weight. "Speed's decent. Power's average. Accuracy's lacking."

He gripped the fist, gave a short push outward, and sent Glenn stumbling two steps back.

"Good. I've got what I need. From here, don't blink. Watch my movements. Keep attacking."

Glenn unclenched the fist, shook out the hand where Orion had squeezed it, and clenched it again.

Eyes on Orion's jaw. A step forward, full swing.

Orion leaned back slightly, just enough, and planted a kick into Glenn's gut. Not brutal, but enough to send Glenn staggering sideways.

Orion watched Glenn hunch over clutching the abdomen and said, low and even, "Learn to aim further back on your strike. Move the impact point. Otherwise it's easy to slip you like that."

"That was the first time. Next time you hunch over holding your gut, I'll follow it with a kick straight to the back of your head. Turn you into a complete idiot."

"Now get up. Keep going."

Glenn caught the breath, muttered an apology, pushed through the pain, and pressed the attack again.

Not far off, Abraham, Shane, Merle, and the others had been watching. They didn't usually take much interest in this kind of thing, but one by one they drifted closer, forming a loose ring.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Merle grinned, clearly delighted. "Is this the good-little-boy fight club?"

The next second, Glenn took a fist directly to the jaw. Vision went black. Glenn swayed several steps like someone three drinks past their limit.

Orion kept his tone level. "A clean hit to the jaw puts a person into paralysis and disorientation, it's unavoidable. A bit more force and you go out cold."

He gave Glenn time to recover this round. It didn't take long before Glenn was doubled over again.

"Remember where that pain is. That's the liver. One of the most vulnerable points on the human body. In a real fight, land a hit there and you can swing the whole thing around."

"The armpit is packed with nerves. Catch an opening and strike there, you can put half a person's body out of commission on the spot."

"Joints are fragile. Twist them out or break them — either way, massive advantage."

"Fuck! You closed your eyes again! Fine, just remember where it hurts. Remember exactly how much."

Orion's steady voice carried across the clearing between strikes, walking Glenn through the mechanics and logic of each move, burning every lesson into the memory through pain.

What had started as amusement among Merle and the others had shifted. The grins were gone. Everyone watching had gone quiet.

It was obvious now, Orion and Glenn were both completely serious. This wasn't roughhousing. This wasn't a game. This was real instruction, practical and without decoration.

Jade watched Orion from the side, something close to surprise in that expression. The approach was unmistakably military, every technique engineered to end a person in a live fight, not subdue them.

Someone like that had been here the whole time. Hadn't expected that.

Crane had noticed it too. Or more accurately, had already known.

Comes with the territory. People in that line of work always have a nose for it.

The brutal session went until noon before it finally ended.

When Orion pulled back for the last time, Glenn was flat on the grass, breathing hard, body curled in on itself.

Nothing didn't hurt. Face and chest were smeared with blood. Both corners of the mouth were swollen, split, crusted red.

Glenn ran a tongue along the teeth. None loose. That was something, at least.

How much had actually stuck was impossible to say. The head was blank.

But where to hit to make someone hurt, that part was locked in.

The brutal session wound down, and the crowd around it slowly came back to itself, each person drifting off into their own thoughts.

Then Shane turned and looked at Leon.

Leon's stomach dropped.

"C-Captain... something up?"

Shane said nothing. Just smiled, slow, wide, and thoroughly unpleasant.

➤ Next: Camp Brawl 2