Chapter 102: The Electrical Expedition [1]

I was the one driving the car to the building Mark had told me about, my hands gripping the steering wheel with perhaps more tension than necessary.

Liu Mei had taken the passenger seat next to me, her nose buried in yet another book despite the bumpy ride through the debris-strewn streets. Elena and Cindy occupied the seats behind us, their own weapons ready but their conversation subdued. The morning’s events seemed to hang over our small group like a cloud—Cindy’s unexpected kiss, the emotional weight of unspoken feelings, and now this impromptu expedition that had somehow transformed from a simple solo mission into a group undertaking.

How had things ended up like this? I’d wanted to handle this alone, probably on my bike for speed and stealth. Taking three additional people felt like I was multiplying the risks unnecessarily, not just for myself but for everyone involved.

“Drive while thinking about driving, otherwise we’ll all die in a miserable car accident in a city where nobody drives cars anymore,” Liu Mei said sarcastically, not bothering to look up from her book as she noticed my thoughtful expression.

I shot her a sideways glance. “How about you drop your book first? Anything could happen out here, and you need to stay alert.”

“I won’t die in such a mundane place unless you truly mean to kill me, Abraham Lincoln,” she replied with that particular brand of dry wit that somehow managed to be both insulting and oddly reassuring.

“If I haven’t killed Rebecca yet, you risk nothing. Don’t worry,” I replied just as dryly, navigating around an abandoned delivery truck that blocked half the intersection.

Cindy giggled from the back seat, the sound bright and unexpected. “Rachel won’t be happy if she hears you talking about killing her little sister.”

I caught Cindy’s reflection in the rearview mirror and felt something loosen in my chest. It had been far too long since I’d seen such a genuine smile and laugh from her. The kiss from this morning had left things complicated between us, but hearing her laugh reminded me why I’d thought to bring her that sapphire necklace in the first place.

“Rachel will be understanding,” I said with a small smile, though I wasn’t entirely sure that was true.

“What are we looking for exactly?” Elena asked from the back seat, leaning forward between the seats.

I glanced at her in the mirror, slightly incredulous. “You guys chose to come along without even knowing why I was leaving in the first place…” I trailed off, sighing inwardly at the absurdity of the situation.

“Just tell us,” Elena said.

“It’s Mark,” I began, slowing down as we approached what had once been a busy commercial district. The storefronts were dark now, most with broken windows or doors hanging off their hinges. “He’s been working on expanding their electrical grid—trying to set up a more reliable power distribution system for the community. Right now they are running everything off individual solar panels and battery banks, but Mark thinks he can create a centralized system that would be more efficient and easier to maintain.”

I paused to maneuver around a cluster of abandoned shopping carts that had somehow ended up in the middle of the street. “The problem is, he needs specific components that aren’t exactly lying around in your average hardware store. Industrial-grade electrical switching equipment, high-capacity transformers, power regulation modules—the kind of stuff that was only used in commercial electrical installations.”

“And this building has that?” Cindy asked.

“According to Mark’s research, yes. Before the outbreak, this place was Henderson Electric Supply—they specialized in commercial and industrial electrical components. Mark found their old inventory records online before the internet completely collapsed, and they were carrying exactly the type of equipment he needs.” I turned left onto what the street signs claimed was Industrial Boulevard, though the signs were barely visible through the overgrowth that had begun to reclaim the roadway.

“Think about it,” I continued, warming to the explanation now that I had their attention. “If Mark can get a proper grid system running, they could potentially power the entire Jackson Township community from a central source. More reliable electricity means better food preservation, consistent lighting, the ability to run more sophisticated equipment. Hell, they might even be able to get some of the old municipal systems working again—water treatment, communications equipment, maybe even some basic manufacturing.”

Liu Mei finally looked up from her book, her interest apparently piqued. “That would represent a significant improvement in our quality of life. A centralized electrical grid is one of the foundational elements of modern civilization.”

“Exactly.” I felt a surge of enthusiasm for Mark’s project and obviously if it really works, Mark would also install the same thing for us. “Right now we’re living like we’re camping. Mark’s system could let us actually start rebuilding something that looks like a proper community for both them and us.”

The building came into view as we crested a small hill, and I slowed the car to get a better look at what we were dealing with. Henderson Electric Supply had been housed in a large, single-story warehouse with attached office space. The structure looked intact from the outside—no obvious structural damage, though the parking lot was choked with weeds and the loading docks were standing open like dark mouths.

“Doesn’t look too bad,” Elena observed, checking her crowbar and adjusting the pack on her shoulders.

“Appearances can be deceiving,” I reminded her, pulling into what had once been a customer parking space. “This place has been sitting empty for two months now. No telling what might have moved in.”

As we climbed out of the car, the silence hit us immediately. This part of the city had never been heavily residential, and the industrial area felt particularly abandoned. No birds sang in the scraggly trees that lined the street, and the only sounds were the whisper of wind through broken windows and the distant groan of settling metal.

I checked my weapons one more time, making sure the steel spike was loose in its sheath and the hand axe was secure but accessible. The spike was my preferred weapon for close-quarters work—long enough to keep infected at a distance, sharp enough to penetrate skull bone, and weighted perfectly for quick, precise strikes. The black leather wrapping on the handle provided excellent grip even when wet with blood or sweat.

Elena hefted her crowbar gripping it hard . The tool had served her well in a lot of scavenging runs, equally effective for prying open doors and caving in infected skulls. Cindy carried a steel rod she’d modified with grip tape, while Liu Mei remained still weaponless.

“Okay, listen,” I said quietly as we approached the building. “I take point, Elena covers the rear, Cindy and Liu Mei stay in the middle. If we encounter infected, don’t be reckless and overconfident. Quick, clean kills, then we keep moving.”

The main entrance was a set of glass double doors, one of which stood slightly ajar. I could see into the reception area beyond—overturned chairs, papers scattered across the floor, but no obvious signs of infected presence. Still, appearances could be deceiving.

I pushed the door open slowly, wincing at the creak of hinges that hadn’t been oiled in months. The smell hit us immediately—the musty scent of abandonment mixed with something else disgusting….

“Something died in here,” Cindy whispered, covering her nose with her sleeve.

“Question is whether it stayed dead,” I murmured back, stepping carefully over the debris that littered the reception area floor.

The building’s layout was typical for this type of business—a front office area that opened into a much larger warehouse space where the actual inventory would be stored. Mark had been specific about what he was looking for: three particular models of industrial switching units, at least two high-capacity transformers, and a selection of power regulation modules that could handle the load he was planning.

We made our way through the office area without incident, past cubicles where computers still sat on desks, their screens dark and silent. Personal items were scattered everywhere—family photos, coffee mugs, small plants that had long since withered and died. It was a snapshot of normal life interrupted, frozen at the moment when the outbreak had turned everything upside down.

The door to the warehouse was propped open with a rubber wedge, and beyond it lay the heart of Henderson Electric Supply. The space was massive, filled with towering shelves of electrical components, spools of heavy-gauge wire, and industrial equipment that looked like it belonged in a power plant rather than a supply warehouse.

“Mark’s list is somewhere in all this,” I said, gesturing to the organized chaos that surrounded us.

That’s when we heard it—a low moan that seemed to come from somewhere deep in the warehouse, followed by the shuffle of feet dragging across concrete.

I held up a closed fist, and everyone froze. The sound came again, closer this time, and I could see movement in the shadows between the shelving units. At least three infected, maybe more, shambling toward the sounds we’d been making.

“Here we go,” I whispered, drawing the steel spike from its sheath.

The first infected appeared around the end of an aisle stacked with electrical conduit. It had once been a man in coveralls—probably an employee who’d been caught here when the outbreak began. His skin had the characteristic pallor of the infected, and dark veins spider-webbed across his exposed arms and neck. His eyes were clouded white, and he moved with that distinctive infected gait—purposeful but unsteady, driven by hunger rather than conscious thought.

I moved to intercept him before he could alert any others to our presence. The steel spike slid between his ribs with barely a whisper, finding his heart with precision. He dropped without a sound, the virus-driven animation leaving his body as his circulation stopped.

But his fall had apparently been heard. Two more infected emerged from different directions—a woman in a business suit and another man in work clothes. The woman was closer, and she’d already begun that characteristic infected growl that served as a dinner bell for any others in the area.

I spun toward her, the spike coming free from the first victim with a wet sound. She lunged at me with the unnatural speed that made infected so dangerous in close quarters, but I’d been fighting these things for months now. I sidestepped her charge and brought the spike up in a diagonal thrust that entered just behind her ear and scrambled the brain tissue that housed whatever remained of her consciousness.

The third infected was almost on top of me by the time his companion hit the floor. He was bigger than the others, probably a warehouse worker, and his infected state had done nothing to diminish his physical strength. His hands reached for my throat with grasping fingers, but I dropped low and swept his legs out from under him. As he fell, I drove the spike down through the top of his skull, feeling it pierce bone and brain matter before grinding to a halt against the concrete floor beneath.

The entire fight had taken less than fifteen seconds, but I could hear more movement in the depths of the warehouse. Our presence was no longer a secret.

“Impressive,” Liu Mei said quietly, studying the three bodies with clinical interest. “Your technique has improved considerably since the last time I saw you fighting these things.”

Elena nodded approvingly. “As expected since he spend every mornings outside.”

That sounded clearly not a compliment, she was giving me quite a stare.

Cindy was staring at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read—part admiration, part something else that I didn’t quite understand. “I’ve never seen you fight like that before,” she said softly.

I wiped the spike clean on the coveralls of the first infected and resheathed it. “Practice makes perfect, unfortunately. And we’re going to get more practice if we don’t find what we came for and get out of here soon.”

We moved deeper into the warehouse, following the aisle markers that divided the inventory into logical sections. Mark had given me specific part numbers and descriptions, and the warehouse’s organization system was still mostly intact. We passed sections devoted to residential wiring, commercial lighting fixtures, and heavy industrial equipment that looked like it belonged in a power plant.

The sounds of infected were growing closer, multiple sets of shuffling feet converging on our location. Whatever nest had made this place home was stirring to life, drawn by the sounds of our passage and the scent of living human beings.

“There,” Elena said, pointing to a section marked “Industrial Controls & Switching.” “That should be where Mark’s shopping list lives.”

We hurried toward the indicated section, but the infected were getting closer. I could see shapes moving in the shadows between the shelving units, and the characteristic moans were coming from multiple directions now. We’d walked into a nest, and they were beginning to surround us.

The first of Mark’s required components was exactly where the inventory system said it would be—a Siemens industrial switching unit still in its original packaging. The thing was heavy, probably fifty pounds, but Elena hefted it without complaint.

“Two more switching units, the transformers, and the regulation modules,” I said, checking Mark’s list again.

But we were running out of time. The infected were closing in from multiple directions, and I could hear more of them stirring deeper in the building. Whatever had brought them here—probably the climate-controlled environment and the abundance of hiding places—they’d made this their home, and they didn’t appreciate visitors.

Or maybe simply they were just attracted by me…

A crash from somewhere behind us suggested that our route back to the entrance might already be compromised. We needed to find the rest of Mark’s components and find them fast.

The transformers were in the next aisle over, massive units that looked like they belonged in a electrical substation. Elena and Cindy each grabbed one while Liu Mei gathered up the smaller regulation modules that Mark had specified.

“Exit strategy?” Elena asked, shouldering her pack and checking her crowbar.

I pointed toward the back of the warehouse, where emergency exit signs glowed faintly in battery-powered illumination that had somehow survived the past two months. “Loading dock. Should get us out faster than trying to fight our way back through whatever’s blocking our entrance route.”

We moved as quickly as the weight of our salvaged equipment would allow, but the infected were converging on our position with increasing urgency. I could see them now—at least a dozen, maybe more, shuffling between the shelving units and calling to each other with those haunting moans that served as their primitive communication system.

The loading dock was a raised platform at the back of the warehouse, accessible through a wide doorway that had obviously been designed for moving large equipment. But as we approached, I could see that our exit wasn’t going to be as simple as I’d hoped.

The area around the loading dock was filled with electrical equipment—not the consumer-grade stuff from the main warehouse, but serious industrial hardware. Banks of switch boxes lined the walls, their metal housings connected by thick cables that disappeared into the building’s electrical infrastructure. And in the center of it all, behind a metal grill that looked like it had been installed for security purposes, was a main control panel that still showed signs of electrical activity.

Sparks occasionally arced between the connections behind the grill, and I could hear the irregular crackling of electrical current jumping across damaged insulation. The panel had clearly been running when the outbreak began, and two months of abandonment had taken their toll. Wiring had deteriorated, connections had corroded, and what had once been a sophisticated electrical control system was now a fire hazard waiting to happen.

“That doesn’t look safe,” Cindy observed, staying well clear of the sparking equipment.

“Nothing about this place looks safe,” I replied, eyeing the control panel with concern. Whatever electrical supply this building had been connected to was apparently still active, at least partially. The switching equipment behind the grill was clearly malfunctioning, sending random surges through systems that hadn’t been maintained since the world ended.

Elena set down her transformer and studied the electrical hazard with professional interest. “Looks like the main disconnect is behind that grill. If we could shut down power to this section, it would be safer to move around back here.”

But the infected weren’t giving us time for electrical repairs. The first of them appeared in the loading dock doorway—three figures silhouetted against the brighter warehouse beyond. They’d found us, and more were coming.

I drew the steel spike again. The crackling electrical panel behind us limited our maneuvering room, but it also meant the infected could only approach from one direction.

“Stay back and let me work,” I said, moving toward the advancing infected. “And whatever you do, don’t touch anything electrical.”

The sparks behind the metal grill cast dancing shadows across the loading dock, turning the confrontation into something out of a nightmare. But I’d fought in worse conditions, and these infected were no different from the hundreds I’d put down over the past weeks.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep