Chapter 17: Future plans and Responsibility
After the break, Ryan gathered everyone in the mess hall. The air was heavy with tension, but people listened closely. A sense of seriousness had settled in.
"Listen, everyone," Ryan began. "The plan today is simple. We're not going outside to fight zombies."
That got everyone's attention.
"Today, we'll focus on organizing ourselves. We'll gather and share any information we have. Try to contact anyone you know—family, friends, anyone—and we'll make a record. Names, locations, last known status—anything could be useful later."
He turned to one of the younger guys. "Tony, you're not in the fighting squad, so you're in charge of compiling all this info. If you need help or resources, come to me directly."
Tony nodded. He was a second-year software engineering student—smart and good with tech. He didn't look thrilled to be given the responsibility, but he accepted it without complaint.
Ryan continued. "The next step is forming proper groups. No one is going to be forced to fight, but we're going to start assigning food and supplies based on what work you're doing. Tony, you'll also keep track of fighters and non-fighters."
There were a few murmurs in the room.
"Ms. Martha will be in charge of managing food distribution, under Max's supervision. Make sure to report your group's needs to them."
He paused, letting that settle in. "Also, before dinner, we'll hold a brief gathering. If anyone has equipment—tools, weapons, or gear—they want to trade, that's the time to do it. Maybe you have something someone else needs."
He looked around. "Any questions?"
A few hands raised, and the meeting continued with some back-and-forth. Eventually, the topic shifted to group formations.
The strongest people paired up first, forming the cores of new teams. They all knew the importance of balance—no point having all the best fighters in one group.
The mess hall filled with movement as people shifted around, joining those they trusted.
Sam paired with Max. They had worked well together during the last few runs. Blake teamed up with Garry, Ian grouped with Ryan, and Shanguan Binger chose her friend Martha. Four strong pairs formed the backbone of the main groups.
Once those were set, they began selecting from the remaining members.
Sam made his picks carefully. He took Emmy, Roy, Beth (Max's girlfriend), Sonia, Bella, and Peater for shielding and support. For the frontline, he chose George, Brook, Nathen, and Cloe. Mona, a skilled archer, was also added to round out the group.
He kept his team small and manageable. Better control, less risk of chaos. Everyone he chose had potential or had already proven useful. He knew they'd grow in numbers eventually.
Once all groups were finalized, rooms were assigned. Sam's group got six rooms on the third floor. The rest of the floor went to staff members and people from other groups.
Back in the mess hall, Sam's group claimed two tables for further discussion.
Max immediately claimed a room for himself and Beth—they were already sharing one since she'd arrived. No one questioned it.
Seeing that, Emmy hesitated for a moment before declaring, a blush rising on her cheeks, "I'll stay with Sam."
Sam blinked, clearly flustered, but didn't argue. A few people chuckled, but no one made a big deal of it.
The rest of the rooms were divided—two for Roy, George, Peater, Brook, and Nathen, and two for Cloe, Mona, Sonia, and Bella.
Everyone spent the next few hours collecting their belongings and shifting into their assigned rooms. It was tiring, but it gave them a sense of normalcy.
Later that afternoon, people settled down for a rest.
Sam entered his room and saw Emmy already inside, neatly organizing her belongings into bags they had salvaged earlier. She was efficient, humming softly to herself, trying to make the space feel a bit more like home.
Sam sat on the edge of the bed and released the metal slime. The little creature bounced onto the floor, stretching out its silvery form before gently rolling around, sensing the calm.
Trying to ease the awkward tension, Sam finally spoke. "Emmy… are you sure about this? I think we should slow down."
She paused. "You… don't like me?"
"I do," he said quickly. "I like you. I have feelings for you. But…"
"Then what's the problem?" she asked, her voice low.
"It's just… we barely know each other. We could take things slow. Start as a couple… but get to know each other properly first."
Emmy turned toward him, her eyes slightly glassy. "You know we could die any time, right?"
The room went quiet.
Sam stood up and walked over. Without saying anything, he gently pulled her into a hug. Emmy didn't resist—she leaned into him, quietly holding on.
In that moment, Sam realized he was carrying one more responsibility now—not just a teammate, but someone who trusted him with her heart.
After a while, they sat back on the bed, a little closer than before, but more at peace.
The metal slime had hopped onto Emmy's lap, its gooey body gently massaging her legs. She gave a soft laugh and relaxed.
"This thing is weirdly good at this," she muttered, brushing a hand through her hair.
Sam smiled. "Yeah… it grows on you."