Brian had always felt a deep sense of guilt about the body he was in. After all, he had taken over the life of someone else's son. That was one of the reasons he always wanted to get to Washington. He hoped to let the parents of his host body know that their son was still alive. It wasn't just about seeking shelter; it was about giving them some peace of mind.
He knew that if he didn't try to get to Washington early in the disaster, he might never make it. Once the infection spread across the entire country, it would be nearly impossible to get there. As he was lost in these thoughts, the staff member behind him suddenly let out a soft "Huh?"
"Huh? What do you mean?" Brian snapped back to reality and walked back to the counter.
"Well... there's just been a dispatch order for a quarantine zone," the staff member said, scrolling through her computer. "It's for Atlanta."
But as she read further, her expression froze. She hesitated for a moment, then looked up at Brian and said, "I don't recommend you go there."
"Please, can you tell me why? I need to find my parents!" Brian could tell this information was crucial. He quickly thought on his feet, leaned on the counter, and looked at her with pleading eyes.
The woman hesitated, her heart tugging at the sight of the boy's desperation. After a moment of internal struggle, she glanced around to make sure no one was listening, then leaned in and whispered, "Atlanta is surrounded by heavily infected areas. The new government is forcing some quarantine zones to send military escorts to move civilians there to boost the population and military presence. That's why I don't suggest you go. And please, don't tell anyone I told you this, okay?"
Brian's face turned serious. He knew this was important information, and the woman was taking a risk by sharing it. He looked at her gratefully and said, "Thank you. I won't say a word."
After thanking the woman again, Brian turned and left the management office.
As soon as he stepped off the stairs, the group of people who had been waiting outside swarmed around him, bombarding him with questions.
"Hey, what did they tell you inside?"
"Did they lie to you?"
Brian frowned, feeling a bit annoyed. He didn't want to cause any trouble, so he patiently explained what had happened and tried to push through the crowd to leave.
"Hey, we're asking you a question! Where do you think you're going?" One of the guys, a young man in his early twenties, grabbed Brian's collar and yanked him back hard.
The guy had been waiting impatiently outside the office and was already in a bad mood. He didn't dare mess with the soldiers, but seeing Brian's annoyed expression had set him off. He didn't hold back when he grabbed Brian.
Some people are like that—they respect those stronger than themselves but take out their frustrations on those weaker. Brian hadn't expected this. He was caught off guard and fell backward with a thud, landing hard on the ground.
The crowd fell silent, and everyone took a step back. The soldiers at the entrance frowned in disapproval, clearly not happy with the young man's actions.
As one of the soldiers was about to say something, Brian struggled to his feet. He felt the pain in his back and was pretty ticked off. He looked up at the young man and said coldly, "You'd better apologize, or you'll regret it."
The young man hadn't meant to pull Brian down, but he was used to getting his way. He didn't take the kid seriously. When Brian demanded an apology and threatened him, the guy's anger flared up again.
"Fine, I'll apologize!" The young man grinned menacingly and stepped forward, raising his hand to slap Brian across the face. He wanted to see how the kid would make him regret it.
The onlookers gasped. No one expected the guy to hit a kid, and some turned away, unable to watch.
Brian didn't flinch. When he first arrived in this world, he might have run, but he'd learned that running away didn't solve anything. He'd faced infected people and killed them; he wasn't about to back down from some punk.
As the slap was about to land, Brian stepped back, easily dodging it. The young man, caught off guard and having swung with all his might, stumbled forward, losing his balance.
Before the guy could recover, Brian moved quickly to his side, kicked him in the side of the knee, and then punched him in the face. The young man's head buzzed, and he collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
The crowd was stunned into silence again. They had expected the kid to get beaten up or at least run away. The two soldiers on the steps exchanged glances, impressed by Brian's moves. They could tell he'd never used that kick on a living person before, and it seemed more like something he'd learned fighting the infected.
Brian dusted himself off, shook his leg a bit to get the numbness out, and looked down at the unconscious guy. He snorted and muttered, "So weak, and all that talk."