Chapter 31- Plea
The atmosphere in the shelter’s conference room was heavy with urgency. The founding members of the shelter had gathered around a large, worn wooden table. Gabriel stood at the head, his expression stern as his eyes swept over everyone present.
"Where is Derrick?" Gabriel asked, voice calm but edged with concern.
One of the members, a middle-aged woman with a tired face, answered quietly, "Derrick is resting, sir. He exhausted himself using his skill."
Gabriel exhaled, nodding firmly. "Let him rest. He’s done more than enough."
He straightened, his voice ringing with authority as he opened the meeting. "We are here to discuss what happened to group expedition." He paused, eyes darkening. "Ken returned alone, severely wounded, and reported that his team was ambushed by a group of mutated zombies. The others... they were either killed or captured."
Murmurs spread around the table, faces grim.
Gabriel continued, "Those survivors are still out there, injured, terrified, and at the mercy of those monsters. We cannot leave them."
Brandon, who sat with his arms crossed, leaned forward, a false smile flickering across his lips. "Then let’s send a rescue team right away," he said smoothly. This is perfect, he thought. If Randoff leads, maybe he won’t come back. One less obstacle.
Several other founders nodded in agreement, but one of them voiced concern, "We’re short on skilled fighters."
Gabriel looked around the table, then his eyes fell on Julian, who stood silently at the back of the room. "Julian... you’ve seen firsthand what we’re up against. Will you lend us your strength in this mission?"
Brandon seized the moment, his voice sharp. "If you hadn’t beaten Cris senseless, he’d be joining this expedition instead of lying in the infirmary. This mess is partly your fault!"