When it was Tara's turn, she gave an honest account of her situation.
Tara Chambler, twenty-two years old. Before the apocalypse, she had been a police academy student. After it began, she stayed holed up at home with her father, her older sister Lilly, and her niece.
They remained there until her father died from an asthma attack. After he turned, he attacked his own granddaughter. The incident devastated Lilly, and Tara eventually fled with her sister.
Later, they came across Pete and Mitch's camp and were taken in. That was where Tara met her girlfriend, Alisha.
Oak raised an eyebrow when he heard "police academy student," but didn't ask any further questions.
Later, during the physical examination, a nurse noticed a prominent, ugly scar on Lilly's arm. It had already healed, but it looked very much like a scratch wound.
"How did you get this?" the nurse asked sternly, pointing at the scar.
Lilly had been following silently behind Tara, her eyes vacant. She showed no reaction and seemed to have no intention of explaining.
Tara tensed and hurried to answer. "It was... our father. He scratched her, but he hadn't turned into a walker yet! My sister isn't infected! She's been fine this whole time!"
She looked anxiously at Lilly, hoping her sister would say something, but Lilly merely lowered her head and stared at her toes as though she hadn't heard a word.
The nurse studied Lilly's condition, then glanced at Tara's anxious expression. She didn't press the issue, merely making a note on her clipboard.
"Go wait in the room over there. Someone will take you to the temporary holding area. Remember, you're not allowed to wander around during quarantine. Follow instructions."
At first, Tara thought "holding area" meant a prison cell, but being kept alive was already more than she had expected.
As it turned out, the accommodations were much better than she had imagined.
The temporary holding area was an open barracks-style room. It was basic but reasonably clean, with simple cots and thin blankets.
The prisoners were housed there under guard, with sentries stationed at the entrance.
Their food consisted of rationed mush and clean water. It certainly wasn't good, but it was enough to fill their stomachs.
Over the next few days, the prisoners were separated into different groups and gradually subjected to more detailed questioning.
The three military prisoners, Mitch, Pete, and Alisha, were handled by Defense Force interrogators.
The interrogation rooms were located deeper inside the compound, so Tara had no way of knowing exactly what happened there. Still, whenever Alisha came back, she looked tired but had no new injuries, and her eyes remained steady enough. That eased Tara's worries somewhat.
In private, Alisha told her that the questioning mainly focused on their military backgrounds, details about the camp, where the tank had come from, and whether they knew where the military had gone.
The interrogator was professional, a tall, broad-built man with such an imposing presence that he seemed like someone who had done this kind of work even before the apocalypse.
Since they answered everything openly and held nothing back, he didn't deliberately mistreat them, though the pressure of the interrogation was still considerable.
The civilian prisoners, meanwhile, underwent more conversational evaluations conducted by Gwendolyn and Oak.
It felt less like an interrogation and more like an assessment.
Gwendolyn was a gentle-mannered middle-aged woman with sharp eyes, while Oak was a somewhat scholarly young man who knew how to listen.
They asked about more than just the prisoners' experiences. They were also interested in their mental state, their skills, what they wanted for the future, and whether they still felt any loyalty or resentment toward their former group.
When Tara met with Gwendolyn alone, she explained her experiences as clearly as she could. She didn't hide her concern for Alisha, and she also mentioned Lilly's mental condition.
Gwendolyn listened carefully, occasionally asking a question, her manner calm throughout.
At the end, she told Tara, "You've had some training, and you have the instinct to protect your family. That's a good thing.
As long as you follow the rules here and prove that you can contribute, you'll have a chance to go from prisoner to full member and receive better treatment.
As for your sister... we'll need to continue observing her, but the base does have basic medical care."
Those words gave Tara a great deal of hope. At the very least, this place seemed orderly and civilized.
But the calm didn't last long.
One afternoon, two Defense Force soldiers came for Alisha again, saying they needed to "verify a few final details."
Tara's nerves immediately returned, and she paced restlessly around the barracks.
Just as she was about to ask the guard at the entrance what was happening, a brief commotion broke out outside, followed by shouting.
Tara rushed out and saw Alisha in the corridor outside the interrogation rooms, flanked by two soldiers.
Another figure had thrown himself in front of her, arms spread wide to block the soldiers as he shouted, "Don't touch her! Whatever you want to ask, ask me instead!"
It was another civilian prisoner, a fairly young man who had apparently worked as a mechanic before the apocalypse. He and Alisha had gotten along reasonably well back at the camp.
The Defense Force soldiers clearly hadn't expected anyone to interfere. Caught off guard for a moment, they tried to push the man aside.
"Step back! We have orders to take her in for questioning!"
"Questioning? How do we know what you're really taking her away for?" The civilian prisoner's eyes were red. He had probably imagined this place as something far more sinister and feared that Alisha might never come back.
For a moment, neither side backed down.
Several other prisoners who had heard the commotion gathered nearby, their expressions anxious and uneasy.
Then a pleasant female voice came from the other end of the corridor.
"What's going on?"
Everyone instinctively turned toward the voice.
Tara did too, and her breath caught.
The woman approaching looked younger than twenty. She was tall and straight-backed, with graceful curves, dressed in a fitted dark gray training uniform. There were no unnecessary decorations, yet the simple outfit made her look crisp and composed.
Her long, pale-golden hair was tied into a simple high ponytail, with a few loose strands brushing her temples.
She was strikingly beautiful, with delicate features so flawless that she seemed almost unreal compared to everyone around her.
Most striking of all were her eyes, a deep gray-blue, like the frozen surface of a lake in winter.
Those eyes swept across the chaotic scene. Wherever her gaze landed, whether on the agitated prisoners or the stern Defense Force soldiers, people instinctively quieted down.
Tara guessed who she was almost immediately. Only the leader of a place like this could have that kind of presence.
Calista walked closer, first glancing at Alisha, who stood between the soldiers with a complicated expression, then turning her attention to the civilian prisoner blocking their path.
"What happened?"
The soldier in charge immediately reported, "Commander! We were ordered to take prisoner of war Alisha in for a final verification. This prisoner suddenly rushed out and tried to stop us. He's agitated because he thinks we might harm her."
Calista looked at the civilian prisoner.
Her expression wasn't fierce, but there was an invisible pressure in her gaze. The man's earlier anger and courage quickly drained away, leaving only nervousness and unease.
"What is it? You're worried we'll hurt her?" Calista asked, her tone giving away nothing.
"I... I..." He opened his mouth but couldn't form a complete sentence.
"At Rock Fortress, interrogations follow established rules," Calista said, emphasizing every word. "And here, we make the rules.
Pointless resistance will only create chaos and hostility. That won't help any of you."
She paused, then looked at Alisha. "Are you willing to cooperate, or do they need to use force?"
Alisha answered immediately, "I'll cooperate willingly!"
Calista nodded to the soldiers. "Continue with your assignment. If anyone tries to interfere again, remove them."
Then she swept her gaze over the gathering crowd.
"Everyone, return to your assigned areas. Gathering and causing a disturbance without permission violates quarantine regulations. Don't let it happen again."
She never raised her voice and made no threats, but everyone understood the weight behind her words.
The civilian prisoner stepped aside awkwardly, and the others quietly dispersed.
The soldiers took Alisha away without any further interference.
Tara remained where she was, watching Calista. After resolving the minor disturbance, Calista didn't leave immediately. Instead, she quietly gave a few instructions to an officer nearby who seemed to be overseeing the quarantine area.
The lines of her profile looked especially soft in the light, but the focused way she lowered her eyes while listening carried an unmistakable sense of authority.
She had only appeared for a few minutes and spoken a handful of sentences, yet Tara could already feel the absolute confidence and control she carried.
Young, calm, decisive, and naturally commanding.
And Tara had to admit that the woman was incredibly... stunning.
Her heart skipped a beat, and warmth crept into her cheeks. She quickly looked away, silently scolding herself. What kind of time was this to be thinking about something like that?
After finishing her instructions, Calista seemed to sense that someone was watching her and casually glanced in Tara's direction.
Tara immediately lowered her head and pretended to study the floor.
Fortunately, Calista didn't seem to notice her. She soon turned and walked away.
Even after returning to the barracks, Tara couldn't settle her thoughts.
Calista's appearance, and the way she had handled the situation, made Tara realize that this place really was different.