Fear is usually responsible for making us aware of the external dangers that can threaten us as individuals, and the body interprets it in a very specific way. First, the senses detect the source of danger, which is then processed by the brain's reasoning based on the information received, and from there, the limbic system takes over.
Since they were facing an unknown situation in a deadly risk zone, everyone was lost and terrified. It was normal—even someone like Alan had once trembled when in danger.
What's happening outside my environment? That's the first question people ask themselves in these kinds of situations. Will I live or die?
No one wants to end up like the infected—that was the worst possible outcome.
Alan recognized the fear in people's eyes, the panic, and of course, the persistent shock. When fear becomes extreme, it paralyzes, emotionally blocks people, and makes reasoning difficult.
When facing accusations from more than a dozen people at that moment, Alan didn't show the slightest hint of surprise.
That's why he needed to step back, move aside, and wait.
"So, will you talk now?" Claire sat next to Alan and waited for him to speak.
"If you're looking for answers, all I can give you is the kind of information that only those who've survived alone know." Alan began talking to Claire about many things she didn't know.
How is this virus transmitted?
Alan knew that, like bacteria and viruses, it could spread in various ways. But most can be classified under four main transmission routes.
The most common form of infection is indirect contact, which hasn't yet been confirmed. But it seemed unlikely in this case, as the woman had been holding the child while screaming. If she wasn't infected, that meant her son probably wasn't either.
That didn't make sense, though—being together for any amount of time should have resulted in both being infected. But so far, only the child was sick, indicating the mother had no idea what her son was going through.
However, direct contact was a confirmed transmission method, which could include saliva or blood. That's why, under no circumstances, should anyone get injured by the infected.
Now then, it was obvious that many people had been infected somehow, and all at once. Since it was a fungus, the answer Alan could give was that the fungus had somehow reached a food supply and infected everyone who consumed it.
Was the drinking water contaminated? If so, that meant they had to be careful with what they ate or drank, as they could ingest germs through it. These are the most common routes under what's called common vehicle transmission. This mechanism allows many people to get infected from a single source.
Claire was surprised by all this information—some of it hadn't even crossed her mind.
"Are you listening, woman? You need to understand that you and your son are putting all of us in danger. That includes those two over there. Have them come out now and be quick so they don't infect us."
Alan smiled coldly as he held a knife, which he then sheathed. Then, as if he had changed his mind, he drew a pistol from his waist and pointed it at the men in front of him.
"You're kicking us out now? It's obvious everyone is scared, but you need to judge rationally and not include me on the list of infected. Without medicine, anyone can fall ill from anything."
As soon as Alan said those words, the people in the hallway and nearby areas were shocked—even Claire, who had thought Alan was a reserved man.
When Alan raised his weapon, he had no qualms about shooting to protect himself, as well as those who genuinely wanted to survive. Claire, seeing that the situation was deteriorating, said:
"They won't trust you, but I do. But let's be realistic, that child looks like he's in trouble. If something unexpected happens now, we need a safe way out."
A woman in a work uniform spoke in an almost pleading tone:
"Miss, my husband was bitten while he was out bringing my dinner, and in just minutes, he turned into a monster. If I hadn't run back quickly to this storage room, he would've bitten me. So, for our own safety—and I hope you understand—you can't stay here."
"So you're saying we're infected?" Alan removed the safety from his pistol, and his tone turned ice cold.
"You're covered in blood, you can barely walk, and you've got cuts on your arms… How do you expect us to think otherwise? We're not idiots—it's your word against ours."
"Huh?" Alan only then realized he really did have glass cuts on his arms.
"You're right… these cuts are from broken glass…"
Claire looked at Alan and said, "They're not bite wounds."
"You expect us to believe that?"
"Please don't kick us out with the infected! My son is fine—he just has a fever."
"Lady, get a grip. I don't care if his fever is from a cold or spoiled milk. You still need to leave—no matter what you say."
Alan saw this and lowered his weapon—he wouldn't be foolish enough to speak on behalf of the child and his mother in this situation. He was sure they weren't infected, but he couldn't vouch for people he didn't know.
"What if we tie them up and leave them here?" Claire asked, slightly shaken by the situation.
"Miss, don't try to be a hero in this kind of situation, or you'll end up infected… Want to tie them up like dogs? Fine, but you do it yourself—just make sure once they're tied up, they stay in the storage room. But if you do that, you'll have to isolate yourselves from us too, for several hours or until tomorrow," a man in a suit said loudly.
Claire went silent, but Alan shook his head.
"Fine, but you're tying them up. You need to understand that if you throw them out, you're basically killing them—and it won't be the virus doing it. Do you really want to do this?"
Immediately, the situation froze, and the few people on the opposing side didn't dare come closer to forcefully remove them. After all, Alan and Claire were armed, so they had no choice but to follow their lead and brought ropes to tie up the woman and her child.
"Damn, this better not be transmitted through touch…" muttered a man grumpily as he tied up the woman, who cried silently. Looking at Alan, she expressed her gratitude with just a glance.
Claire, meanwhile, kept her hand on her pistol holster while eyeing the people not far from her, deciding whose side to take at that moment.
Then, a man around forty sitting on a metal chair stood up and said:
"Listen, both of you. This place belongs to our delivery company, and I'm the team manager, so technically, this place is ours—and you're just outsiders. No one has the right to kick anyone out."
As the company manager spoke, eight people stood behind him. It was now obvious that the delivery company workers outnumbered the outsiders who had arrived that day. None of them, besides the employees, had the authority to remove anyone.
Upon hearing this, the man in the suit looked furious, but Claire felt a wave of gratitude. She hadn't expected someone to speak up for them in that moment. This same old man had helped them get in, so it was clear he was a good person. Of course, with his help and that of the employees, they could all stay there.
However, what the manager said next made Claire feel awful:
"But I must protect my people and our safety. As the woman with the child suggested, they'll be locked in the storage room, and you two will go into the women's bathroom. You can leave if you don't agree with the terms. If you're not infected by tomorrow, we'll forget about it. But if you turn while locked up, no one will be in danger. How does that sound?"
The people nearby quickly agreed:
"No problem, really not a problem being locked up in a bathroom."
The manager smiled and said:
"Everyone deserves a chance, so it's best we isolate those we suspect of being infected. That's how it'll be. Anyone have a problem with that?"
Alan entered the room with the woman and her son and saw how they were tied by the legs.
"This medicine will help your son with the fever. I'm leaving two bottles of water and some canned food."
"Thank you so much…" the woman murmured, eyes filled with sadness.
"Don't worry, we'll get out of here alive." After saying that, Alan walked out and looked at the manager, who nodded in gratitude.
"Then we'll go in."
A flicker of helplessness appeared in the manager's eyes as he said,
"Then there's no other way. For everyone's safety, we'll have to lock you both in the women's bathroom. If you think about it, you might end up sleeping there."
"Screw you," Claire said, clearly not in the mood to be polite anymore.