Leah nodded. This was a good approach.
Calista continued, "You and Rickson can settle the exact amount. From now on, prisoners who haven't committed any major offenses and are willing to submit will be handled by this standard. Their ransom thresholds will vary depending on how hostile their faction was toward us and how serious their past mistakes were."
Then she turned to Wagner. "You heard that, right? This is your only chance. Work hard. Use your skills or your strength, and earn enough to pay your 'ransom money.'"
"I understand…" Wagner nodded, his expression complicated.
Leah stepped forward and unlocked Wagner's cell. "Come out. Follow me."
Wagner slowly walked out and stood silently beside Leah.
Calista gestured at the two corpses and said to Carver and Mike, "Carver, Mike, deal with these two. Before they turn into walkers, tie them to the outer barbed wire. Make sure they're tied securely. Don't let them go to waste."
Her tone was as calm as if she were telling them to throw out two bags of trash.
Once fixed to the barbed wire around the base, they would become part of the wall of walkers after they "activated," helping disrupt and block other wild walkers that tried to approach.
The food spent on André and Marco during this time had finally produced a little remaining value at the very end.
Carver and Mike had no objections.
They answered, found some canvas bags, and efficiently stuffed André and Marco's bodies inside. Then each of them dragged one toward the dungeon exit.
Calista gave the four now-empty cells one last look. The smell of blood still hung thick in the air.
Expressionless, she turned and left.
Leah followed with Wagner. Mikey, who had finished settling Jason after his return, cleaned up the blood inside and locked the dungeon gate again.
There were no prisoners left inside, and no guards were needed anymore.
The night remained deep, and Rock Fortress continued to run in silence.
For Calista, this was just an ordinary night.
...
The Great Smoky Mountains, Tennessee.
Today, Calista drove the Knight XV, the vehicle she had bought at great expense but had never driven since the apocalypse began, to Blackberry Ranch to check on the progress there.
For the residents of Rock Fortress and Blackberry Ranch, this was a season of racing against time.
Although winter's shadow had not yet fully fallen, every clear day was precious and had to be used to store food, reinforce shelters, and build up reserves.
Blackberry Ranch was livelier than ever.
It was no longer just an auxiliary site that provided temporary pasture and a small amount of crops. Under careful planning, it was rapidly developing into a specialized, large-scale agricultural production base.
The expanded livestock pens were now divided much more clearly.
The guard dogs and horses were still at Rock Fortress, personally looked after and fed by Martha and Mira.
The other animals had all been moved down and were being kept at Blackberry Ranch together with the livestock brought back from the prison.
Quite a few animals had been brought back this time. At the moment, they were pacing and lowing uneasily in their new surroundings.
After Calista brought back this new batch of "assets," Mrs. Howard had clearly adjusted personnel quickly.
Duane and Little Jimmy were in charge of feeding the sheep pens and chicken coops.
The two boys moved nimbly among the animals, focused and careful as they fed them and refilled their water.
Right now, a man and a woman, both seemingly in their thirties or forties, were busy in the newly expanded quarantine area.
The man was solidly built, his skin bronzed from years of wind and sun. His hands were broad and rough, and his movements were steady.
He was carefully checking the hoof of a massive dairy cow, expertly clearing mud and debris from the gaps. Every now and then, he murmured a few words to the cow, and the animal seemed to understand him, gradually becoming docile.
The woman wore a plain headscarf and an apron tied around her waist. Her face carried a trace of fatigue, but her eyes were bright.
She was using a crude wooden bucket to feed salted water to several newly arrived goats and sheep that were clearly frightened. Her movements were gentle, and she made soft clicking sounds to soothe them, effectively calming their agitation.
Calista stopped and watched quietly for a while.
The two worked together with remarkable coordination. One held the animal steady, and the other could quickly examine or treat it.
They clearly had real experience, not the kind of armchair knowledge that only worked on paper.
Mrs. Howard had arranged this well.
But as Calista watched, her eyes narrowed slightly. She caught a few details that went beyond the scope of work.
When the man strained to lift a young heifer's hind leg for inspection, sweat beaded at his temple, and the woman very naturally wiped it away with her sleeve.
The man looked up and gave her a simple, slightly embarrassed smile.
The woman's cheeks seemed to flush faintly. She quickly lowered her head and went back to stirring the feed, but the corners of her mouth curved into a small smile.
Clingy.
The word flashed through Calista's mind.
Not in a derogatory way. It was just an objective description.
She understood. This was the apocalypse, and survivors lived under intense tension and pressure to stay alive. It was only natural for them to rely on one another for emotional comfort.
Living standards in the base were improving. Stable food, relatively safe shelter, gradually improving facilities...
Once the most basic needs for survival were secured to a certain extent, suppressed human needs, such as emotion and intimacy, began quietly resurfacing.
This was a good thing. At the very least, it showed that the people in the base were shifting from pure "survival" toward "life," which helped strengthen their sense of belonging and stability.
But along with that came a few small problems.
Calista did not disturb the two as they worked. She turned and headed toward the "Blackberry Ranch Points Exchange Office," which had been converted from the ranch's original tool shed and had recently become Mrs. Howard's usual place to stay.
Mrs. Howard was leaning over an old desk, reading glasses perched on the bridge of her nose.
When she saw Calista come in, she took off her glasses and gave her a gentle smile.
"Calista, this early? Here to check on the new livestock? I recruited two new people, Tommy and Sarah. They're doing very well. They worked on farms around Knoxville for more than ten years and have plenty of experience."
"I saw. They're very professional." Calista nodded and sat down across from Mrs. Howard, getting straight to the point. "Mrs. Howard, I've noticed that situations like theirs, people relying on each other like that, don't seem to be isolated cases in the base."
Mrs. Howard paused, then understood. After all, she had lived long enough to see things more clearly.
"That's right. In times like these, surviving one day at a time is already something. Having someone who cares whether you're cold or warm, someone to support you, is a lucky thing. People always need something to hold on to."
"I understand," Calista said calmly. "Emotional needs are reasonable. But the related physical needs and health issues need to be regulated in advance."
...
...
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