The Hummer was loaded with supplies from the truck, and the trunks of both Porsches were open, already holding dozens of stacks of canned food and several large bags of dog food.
Danny and Ethan, left guarding the entrance, held guns and stood coldly by the cars, looking menacing.
No one would be foolish enough to covet their vehicles and supplies.
As Callista and the other two just finished emptying their backpacks, Turner walked over carrying several boxes of water, sweat on his face.
"Damn it, the food section was packed, people were grabbing instant noodles like they were free. Dealing with small trouble wasted some time." Turner put down the water and went to get compressed biscuits and instant noodles.
"Where's Leah?"
"Watching the biscuits over there!"
Catching a glimpse of fresh bloodstains on his hem, Callista knew what he meant by "dealing with it."
After collecting supplies from a few more waves, Callista finally couldn't hold it in and pointed towards the restrooms: "You guys go ahead, I need to clean up."
Unlike the mercenaries, she wasn't experienced and had drunk a lot of water during breakfast and lunch, so she was in a hurry. Plus, she'd only had time to change her clothes in the villa earlier, and the walker's brain matter on her collarbone had congealed into dark purple hardened lumps, emitting a nauseating odor.
Mike glanced at the relatively calm northwest passage: "Five minutes, Carver and I will get the last few bags."
Callista darted into the second-floor restroom. It wasn't smelly or bloody inside, and apart from a faint sobbing from the adjacent baby room, it appeared safe.
She calmly finished her business and walked out of the stall, holding her knife reversed in her right hand. With her left hand, she suddenly yanked open the door to the baby room, startling the occupant.
Three women were huddled behind the changing table, looking at her in terror. Among them, the dark-haired woman in yoga pants had her right leg wrapped in a blood-soaked Lululemon headscarf.
Seeing that the newcomer was just a young girl in athletic wear, they visibly relaxed, even though she still held a knife.
"Hey, what's it like outside?" the dark-haired woman asked first.
"It's pretty chaotic, everyone's grabbing things." Callista tucked her knife back into her waistband, her attention pausing on the wound on the woman's leg.
The two dark-haired, dark-eyed Asian women both had tear streaks on their faces. One was constantly comforting a baby, while the other trembled as she dialed her phone.
"All hospital calls are busy. The only one that connected said they're full, and it's all bite victims today..."
It was clear they were friends, perhaps they had just come shopping or to look for supplies.
However, bringing a baby was clearly not a wise choice.
Callista could only remark that the Americans were indeed daring; if it were Chinese people, they'd likely be staying indoors on the first day of the riot.
Danger averted, Callista turned to leave. Before going, she glanced at the dark bite marks on the dark-haired woman's calf and said seriously: "Bites transmit the virus. If the wound is fresh, you need to amputate immediately."
The Asian woman on the phone clearly wasn't listening, while the one holding the baby subtly shifted away.
Callista shrugged. She had only offered a kind reminder; whether they listened was not her concern.
"You crazy bitch! Get out!" The Black woman's eyes were red. Hearing this, she suddenly collapsed, pulling a box cutter from her pocket and pointing it at Callista.
"My husband is a surgeon! He said it's just a normal infection! As long as we go to the hospital and get a rabies shot, we'll be fine."
Callista spread her hands and moved outside the ladies' restroom, leaving the Black woman's curses behind her: "Ok, ok, I'm going out, don't get excited."
It seemed she wouldn't turn for a while.
The washbasin was in the corridor outside the women's restroom, which was adjacent to the men's.
The smooth mirror reflected her disheveled appearance: light blonde strands of hair, matted with sweat and blood, clung to her face. Dark red scabs and suspicious white solids had congealed on her collarbone.
She did look like a little crazy bitch.
Callista pushed her hair behind her ears and cupped water with both hands to wash her face and neck.
The cool water washed away the sticky brain matter and sweat, revealing her delicate, alluring face again. She felt a bit more comfortable.
Just as she turned off the faucet, footsteps and a few lewd whistles suddenly sounded from behind her. Callista spun around abruptly.
Three thugs in sagging pants blocked the corridor exit. Behind them stood a young white man.
The leader of the thugs grinned, his gold tooth gleaming obscenely: "Sweetheart, need some help washing up?"
Callista's gaze grew cold as she looked past them. The passage was blocked, and Mike and Carver hadn't returned yet.
Her brow furrowed, and she said in a low voice, "Stay away from me!"
"Callista Norton?" The white young man's eyes lit up for a moment when he recognized her face, and he hesitantly called out her name.
The others, however, clearly had their eyes light up with lecherous glints, staring directly at her. The leader even adjusted his waistband.
Callista's face turned instantly cold, and she subtly reached behind her lower back.
"Whoa, Billy, you know this chick?" the thug on the left asked playfully.
"She's the prom queen from our school," Billy replied.
Only then did Callista shift her gaze to him.
The white young man, named Billy, did look familiar. Wasn't he the high school bully?
Who would have thought he'd end up with street thugs.
"Since you know her?" the leader asked Billy, his tone suggesting he might let her go.
She remained vigilant, her right hand already inching towards the hilt of her knife. Her body trembled slightly, her left hand, gripping her backpack strap, turned white with force, and she bit her lip, looking pleadingly at Billy: "Billy..."
Billy's expression looked troubled: "How about letting her go?"
The thugs hesitated. Under her pitiful gaze, they slightly shifted aside, as if to make way for her.
Just as Callista thought she might get away, Billy's expression contorted, and he suddenly let out a sinister laugh, patting the leader's shoulder: "Hahahaha, that's hilarious. She actually believed it!"
The few of them exchanged glances and burst into laughter.
Callista's heart sank bit by bit.
"Wow! The high and mighty prom queen, living in a fancy neighborhood, never even looked my way. Now you're giving me a nice look?" Billy narrowed his eyes, shamelessly appraising her face and figure.
Seeing that they were just toying with her, Callista's muscles tensed. In a second, she dropped the pretense of weakness, her sharp gaze sweeping over the four men: "I'm waiting for my friends here. They have terrible tempers. I suggest you don't mess with me."
"Wow, a beauty's expression changes so fast!"
"Don't fool us, sweetheart. With how chaotic it is outside, that trick won't work now!"
The thugs lost their patience, eager to have this tender and delicious blonde beauty beneath them.
The leader's hand reached directly for her waist, the smell of tobacco mixed with marijuana heavily spraying onto Callista's face.
His accomplice watched, hitting a baseball bat against the wall, his face flushed with excitement: "This chick is hotter than a Victoria's Secret model! After you're done, we want some fun too!"
The moment he made physical contact, Callista's left hand delivered an elbow strike, fiercely hitting the gold-toothed man's nose. Blinded by lust, he hadn't expected such fierce resistance from the beauty, and he let out a howl: "Damn blonde bitch!"
Her right hand quickly drew the knife from her lower back, but her wrist was seized by a vice-like grip just as she was about to stab. Another thug slammed her hand heavily against the washbasin.
The intense pain made her drop the knife, and her only weapon was knocked away.
She had stuffed the gun in her backpack earlier because it was cumbersome while moving supplies, and now it was too late to get it out!
It's over!