Seeing Jack's gloomy face and his continued refusal to acknowledge her, Jessie's expression gradually turned to despair, her eyes dimming. The others fell silent, and the car fell into quiet, save for the grating creak of the dilapidated trailer.
Back at the gas station, Jack signaled Carly not to turn off the engine. All three remained in the car, while he, alone, got out with his pistol and surveyed the surroundings.
The old man's corpse was still there, its splattered brains attracting flies and other carrion-eating insects. Jack circled the area, finding nothing amiss, and waved to the three to indicate it was safe.
He then went to the broken public phone and carefully examined it, confirming it was completely beyond repair.
Jack had initially thought that as long as the wiring wasn't broken, he could salvage so parts from the many wrecked cars in the ditch to piece together a makeshift phone. But with the wiring dead, there was nothing he could do; his skills weren't up to the level of manually operating a radio.
The three of them got off the trailer and kept a safe distance from the corpse. Watching Jack busy himself, Jessie seed to have finally cald down a bit, though she looked at him hesitantly.
Carly and Scott, seeing the filthy old man's body and rembering the sudden arrow wound, had long since given up on verifying whether there really was cannibalism in the house; they just wanted to get as far away as possible.
Jack deliberately ignored Jessie. Whether it was due to upbringing or cultural tradition, Aricans seed to have a particular fondness for individual heroism. It was as if, in the face of disaster or danger, as long as a hero appeared, all the responsibilities and obligations fell on that person.
Therefore, Jack had no interest in being a hero. He had done his duty. He'd seen plenty of beautiful won; he wasn't about to risk his life for one. Taking an arrow to his head to test the effectiveness of healing techniques was not part of his travel plans.
Picking up the old double-barreled shotgun from beside the old man's corpse, Jack checked it; it should still work, but he didn't intend to risk his life against a bunch of fearless enemies with it.
He tossed the shotgun to Scott and went into the tin shack to see if there were any extra bullets. He wondered if these deford creatures might ambush them on the dirt road they'd left on; having extra weapons was always good.
In a dark corner against the wall was a simple wooden shelf piled with odds and ends. He found a box of buckshot in a rusty biscuit tin. Just as Jack was about to leave the stench-filled shack, his eyes suddenly widened, drawn to a yellow stone on the shelf.
He picked it up and tossed it; it felt incredibly heavy. This small, nearly cylindrical piece probably weighed three or four kilograms. Suppressing his excitent, he moved to a brighter spot.
It was a natural gold nugget. Its surface was almost entirely free of impurities, radiating a srizing golden glow in the sunlight.
Jack was overjoyed to find that defeating enemies could actually yield loot. He quickly continued searching the wooden shelf and found a small cloth bag. Opening it, he discovered it was full of gold dust.
The question that had been nagging at Jack was now answered. He wondered how these ugly, deford people had managed to hide in the mountains undetected. It was impossible for so many people to survive solely on cannibalism and hunting.
They needed a constant supply of supplies, plus so many powerful hunting crossbows far more expensive than ordinary firearms. Ordinary crossbows couldn't possibly keep you pinned down at a distance of a couple hundred ters.
The Raven crossbow Hannah had given him had an effective range of only 200 ters and cost at least three thousand dollars. That would buy three or four ordinary AR-15s, or even double the number of cheaper AKs.
The reason? These guys were guarding an undiscovered gold mine.
Jack fell into deep thought and then made a decision. Aricans love heroes, right? He was going to be the hero today.
Jack picked out an empty gasoline can from a pile of handheld gasoline cans inside the house, poured in the bag of gold dust, filled it with gasoline, and stuffed the natural gold nugget into his pocket. He then carried the can out of the house, casually handing Scott a box of buckshot as he passed the three.
"Co with , I have a plan."
Jessie, whose face had been pale, suddenly looked up at him, her eyes seeming to regain so light. But seeing Jack's still stern face, she opened her mouth but didn't dare speak.
Jack walked to his Firebird, which was covered by a tattered tarpaulin, pulled his backpack from the back seat, removed the magazine from his gun, and handed it to the three along with the empty magazine from his waist. He then handed them a box of hollow-point bullets.
"Help load these bullets, replace them all with these."
He still didn't believe that even if these deford people weren't afraid of pain, if they could still be alive and kicking after being hit in the torso by a hollow-point bullet, he started to suspect they were human.
[A/n: They move, they shoot, they have gold.....henceforth they are human.]
The three of them worked together and quickly completed the simple task. Jack then retrieved Hannah's Raven crossbow and a bag of bolts from the trunk.
There weren't many bolts, only 20 in the bag, but the rich girl always played with the most expensive things. The aluminum-coated carbon shaft paired with heavy tungsten steel arrowheads was not only extrely powerful, but also reusable as long as the fletching wasn't damaged.
"Who knows how to use this?" Jack asked, picking up the box containing the crossbow.
"I do. I learned from my father." Jessie took the box and assembled it with practiced ease, seemingly genuinely skilled.
Jack casually and naturally stuffed the gasoline can, containing the gold into the trunk and closed the lid.
"Alright, let explain the next plan."
Jack's expression was grave. Under his sharp gaze, the three of them held their breath, quickly becoming alert.
"Evan is dead, but Francine might still be alive. If you want to rescue her and don't want to beco part of those corpses in the refrigerator in that house, you must strictly follow my orders."
The three nodded frantically.
"Give both your phones," Jack said to Scott and Carly.
He entered the sa phone number into both phones and returned them to them.
"Scott, take that shotgun for self-defense. Take Carly, get in the trailer, and head back to the highway towards Las Cruces. Don't make contact with anyone along the way. Once you get a signal, call this number for help imdiately."
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