The seventh morning after the Prophet's defeat began with an unexpected visitor.
I was reviewing the latest supply reports when someone knocked on the council room door.
"Come in."
A young soldier entered. His uniform was dusty, and he looked as though he had been running.
"Sir, we have a situation at the northern checkpoint."
I raised my head.
"What happened?"
"An unidentified group approached the checkpoint. They're carrying weapons, but they haven't attacked. They requested a meeting with the coalition's leadership."
I closed the report.
"How many?"
"Approximately twenty people. Two vehicles, one of them damaged."
"Any infected?"
"None that we've identified."
I exchanged a glance with Valeria.
"Have they been searched?"
"Not yet. Our people are keeping their distance."
"Good. Nobody approaches them until Sofía arrives. I want their weapons secured before they enter the settlement, and make sure nobody points a rifle at them unless there's a clear threat."
The soldier nodded and left.
Valeria folded her arms.
"That didn't take long."
"What?"
"Our first unexpected visitors after establishing the northern route."
I smiled faintly.
"Perhaps the road is already doing its job."
---
Sofía arrived twenty minutes later.
She listened to the report, gathered six armed escorts, and accompanied me to the northern checkpoint.
The visitors were waiting behind a makeshift barricade.
There were eighteen adults and two teenagers.
Most carried backpacks. Several had visible injuries, and their clothes suggested they had spent considerable time traveling through the ruined city.
A tall man stepped forward.
"Are you the people responsible for the new patrols?"
"That depends. Who are you?"
"My name is Daniel. We come from a settlement east of the river."
He gestured toward the damaged vehicle.
"We heard about your coalition. Someone told us your people were rebuilding roads and establishing supply routes."
I studied him.
"What do you want?"
"To talk."
"About what?"
He hesitated.
"Trade. Protection. Perhaps something more."
Sofía remained beside me, observing the group.
I noticed that several people were watching the surrounding buildings instead of looking directly at us.
They were cautious.
Understandably so.
"Tell me about your settlement," I said.
Daniel took a breath.
"There are approximately two hundred and thirty people living there. We have a small agricultural area, a workshop, and a functioning water purification system."
That caught my attention.
"How long has it been operational?"
"Almost three months."
"That's impressive."
"It wasn't easy."
He looked toward his companions.
"We've lost people protecting it. We can't keep doing everything ourselves."
I understood that feeling.
A settlement could survive for months and still collapse because of one mistake.
"What kind of agreement are you looking for?"
"Access to your supply routes. Medical assistance when necessary. And cooperation against hostile groups."
I considered his proposal.
"Those are reasonable requests. But joining the coalition isn't simply receiving protection."
Daniel nodded.
"I expected that."
"Every member community must contribute according to its capabilities. We share information, coordinate emergency assistance, and respect one another's independence."
"And if we refuse?"
"Then we remain neighbors."
He looked surprised.
"You wouldn't force us to join?"
"No."
I glanced at the people behind him.
"We're trying to rebuild civilization, not create another dictatorship."
For the first time, Daniel smiled.
"Then perhaps we've finally found the right people."
---
We invited their representatives to the settlement that afternoon.
Before the meeting, our medical personnel examined the newcomers and treated their injuries.
Lucía personally inspected the damaged vehicle's passengers.
Meanwhile, Carla became interested in their water purification equipment.
"You're telling me you managed to maintain a filtration system using salvaged components?"
Daniel nodded.
"We had a technician before the outbreak. He taught several people how to maintain it."
Carla immediately began asking questions.
I watched her enthusiasm with amusement.
She could discuss machinery for hours without realizing that everyone else had stopped following the conversation.
The actual negotiations took place in the council room.
Daniel introduced his community's representatives, including a woman named Rachel who managed their agricultural production.
Rachel was direct.
"We can provide vegetables, seeds, and some preserved food. But we cannot afford to give away half our production."
Marta nodded.
"Nobody is asking you to."
"Then what exactly do you expect?"
Valeria answered.
"Contributions based on available production and actual needs. We don't want to weaken one settlement to strengthen another."
Sarah added:
"We also need accurate records. If a community has a poor harvest, its contribution should reflect that."
Rachel seemed satisfied.
The discussion continued for another hour.
By the end, we had agreed to establish a temporary trade partnership.
It wasn't membership in the coalition yet.
It was a beginning.
And beginnings mattered.
---
Not everyone was happy with our direction.
The following morning, Vasquez brought me a report concerning the eastern communities.
Three representatives had expressed concerns about the proposed coalition agreement.
Their main objection was simple.
They believed the larger settlements would eventually dominate the smaller ones.
One representative had even suggested that the coalition should be dissolved before it became a political threat.
I read the report twice.
Then I placed it on the table.
"Are these concerns legitimate?"
Vasquez nodded.
"Some are. Others come from people who don't trust anyone outside their own communities."
"Can we arrange a meeting?"
"Yes, but I wouldn't expect them to agree easily."
"I don't need them to agree immediately. I need them to understand what we're proposing."
Valeria entered just as he finished speaking.
"Then we should invite them to help write the agreement instead of presenting them with something already completed."
I looked at her.
"That's better."
Vasquez nodded.
"I'll arrange it."
After he left, Valeria sat across from me.
"You can't expect people to trust a system simply because we believe it's fair."
"I know."
"They've survived by protecting their own interests. Some of them have probably lost entire families because they trusted the wrong people."
I leaned back.
"Then we'll have to earn their trust."
She smiled.
"That's the answer I wanted."
---
Three days later, the first formal meeting with the eastern representatives took place.
It wasn't pleasant.
One man, whose name was Harold, repeatedly questioned our intentions.
"Today you offer cooperation. Tomorrow you demand soldiers. Next month you decide how much food every settlement must surrender."
I let him finish.
Then I answered.
"If that's what you fear, we should write protections against it into the agreement."
He frowned.
"What protections?"
"Every community retains ownership of its local resources. No settlement can be forced to provide supplies beyond an agreed emergency contribution. Major decisions require representatives from multiple communities. And every member has the right to withdraw from the agreement."
Sarah began writing.
I continued.
"We also establish transparent records. Nobody should have to guess where resources are going."
Harold looked toward the other representatives.
"And who enforces these rules?"
"All participating communities."
"That's not an answer."
"It is. If we create a system where one person can decide everything, then eventually someone will abuse it."
The room became quiet.
Marta finally spoke.
"I support that."
Rachel nodded.
"So do I."
Harold didn't look convinced, but he stopped arguing.
It wasn't a complete victory.
But it was progress.
---
That evening, Carla requested an urgent meeting.
I found her in the engineering workshop surrounded by maps and radio equipment.
"What's wrong?"
She pointed toward a small device.
"We received a transmission."
"From where?"
"That's the interesting part."
She adjusted the radio and played the recording.
At first, there was only static.
Then a voice emerged.
"...Northern relay station... this is the eastern regional settlement network. We are requesting identification from any operational community receiving this transmission..."
The message repeated.
I looked at Carla.
"How long have you been receiving it?"
"About forty minutes. We've tried responding, but the signal keeps disappearing."
"Can you determine the source?"
"Not precisely. But it's farther east than any settlement we've contacted."
I listened again.
The transmission continued.
"...We currently maintain multiple protected settlements. Medical facilities, agricultural production, and independent defense units remain operational. Any surviving communities interested in establishing contact should respond..."
I remained silent.
Multiple protected settlements.
Medical facilities.
Agricultural production.
Independent defense units.
This wasn't a small survivor camp.
Someone had organized an entire regional network.
"Can you answer them?"
"I'm trying."
"Keep working on it. I want a reliable communication schedule established."
Carla nodded.
"There's something else."
"What?"
She showed me a handwritten frequency log.
"The transmission included a designation."
I read it.
Eastern Regional Authority.
I frowned.
"Authority?"
"That's what they called themselves."
I looked toward the radio.
For months, I had assumed that most organized survivor groups would eventually collapse or become hostile.
Perhaps that assumption had been wrong.
There were other people rebuilding the world.
And some of them might have been doing it much longer than we had.
---
I returned home later than expected.
Valeria noticed immediately.
"Something happened."
"We received a radio transmission."
She put down the book she was reading.
"From another settlement?"
"Something bigger. An organization calling itself the Eastern Regional Authority."
Lucía looked up.
"How many people?"
"We don't know."
Carla's earlier estimate came to mind.
"Possibly several settlements. They claim to have medical facilities, agricultural production, and independent defense units."
Sofía crossed her arms.
"Could be propaganda."
"Could be."
"Or a trap."
"Also possible."
Valeria studied my expression.
"Do you want to contact them?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
I thought about it.
"Because if they're genuinely rebuilding civilization, they're potential allies. If they're hostile, we need to know what we're dealing with before they become a threat."
Sofía nodded.
"Then we prepare carefully."
I looked around the room.
Our little family had survived too much to take unnecessary risks.
But avoiding every risk would eventually leave us isolated.
And isolation was dangerous.
---
The next morning, Carla finally established a stable connection.
The radio crackled.
A different voice answered.
"Unidentified station, identify yourselves."
Carla adjusted the microphone.
"This is the Northern Coalition. We are an alliance of independent survivor communities. We received your previous transmission."
There was a brief pause.
"How many settlements are under your administration?"
Carla looked at me.
I stepped closer.
"We don't have an administration controlling all settlements. We currently coordinate twelve communities through a mutual cooperation agreement."
Silence followed.
Then the voice returned.
"Twelve?"
"Correct."
"Interesting."
I frowned.
"Who am I speaking with?"
"This is Commander Elias Ward, communications officer of the Eastern Regional Authority."
"What do you want from us, Commander?"
"We would like to establish diplomatic contact."
I glanced at Carla.
Diplomatic contact.
Those were words I hadn't expected to hear again.
"On what conditions?"
"An initial exchange of information. Population estimates, available resources, security arrangements, and territorial boundaries."
I considered the request.
"Some of that information can be exchanged. But we won't disclose sensitive military positions or detailed security procedures."
"Understandable."
The commander paused.
"One more thing."
"Go ahead."
"How long has your coalition been operating?"
I looked at the people around me.
"Several months."
Another pause.
Then Elias spoke again.
"Then I believe we have much to discuss."
The transmission ended.
I remained beside the radio.
Several months.
That was how long our coalition had existed.
But somewhere beyond the horizon, another organization had apparently survived long enough to build something comparable, perhaps even larger.
For the first time in weeks, I felt genuinely uncertain about what awaited us.
I looked at the map.
The northern roads were only the beginning.
There was an entire world beyond them.
And we had barely scratched its surface.
End of Chapter 24