Chapitre 40: [40] Endeavor
Cassidy shifted uncomfortably, clearing her throat before her question floated in the heavy air, "Andy... where's your dad?"
Andy's eyes flickered away for a moment, his body going rigid. The question seemed to echo in the silence that followed, only the quiet hum of a generator and the occasional clink of metal echoing in the background.
"He...," Andy began, his voice surprisingly steady, yet the grimace that crossed his features told of a different story. The silence returned, only to be broken once more by his quiet admission, "He turned."
The word lingered in the air like a ghost, its meaning all too clear in this new, cruel world. To turn - to become one of those shambling, mindless creatures that once were human. It was a fate many had met, and one everyone feared.
Andy's gaze was fixed somewhere far off, the haunted look in his eyes reflecting memories he'd rather forget. He swallowed hard, his throat working as he continued, "Dad... was bitten while we were out scrounging for parts. He thought he could hide it, thought he could fight it off."
His words trailed off into a bitter laugh, a hollow, empty sound that echoed through the garage. "You can't fight it off," he finally added, his voice dropping to a low whisper, an undertone of pain lacing his words.
Andy's father had been a mechanic, just like him. The shop was their livelihood, their sanctuary. But when the world went to hell, it became their fortress. Andy's father had taught him everything he knew about cars, about traps, about survival.
"He was a fighter," Andy said, a distant smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "He fought to the very end."
His voice was thick with emotion as he remembered his father's courage, his determination, even in the face of a fate worse than death. His father had known what was coming, had known what he would become, yet he'd faced it head on, never once succumbing to fear.
"But when it was time… when he turned... I had to..." Andy's voice broke, his chest rising and falling with shaky breaths as he fought for composure.
There was a heavy silence, no one dared to break it. We all knew what had to be done when someone turned. It was a brutal necessity of this new world. A mercy, some called it. But that didn't make it any easier.
As the silence stretched on, Andy's gaze moved to a photograph on the wall - a man with a bright smile, grease smeared on his face, a young Andy standing next to him. His hero, his mentor, his dad.
The silence was eventually broken by Cassidy, her voice soft and compassionate. "I'm sorry, Andy," she said, and though the words were simple, they carried the weight of shared loss and understanding in this apocalyptic world.
Andy gave a tight nod, "Me too, Cass. Me too."
I looked at others with a nod, after they nodded back, I told Andy how the zombies ignored me.
There was a moment of silence as the room absorbed the words that had just tumbled out of my mouth. The quiet was soon broken by Andy's disbelief. "Wait, are you kidding me?" he asked, skepticism narrowing his eyes.
"No, I'm not," I replied evenly. I understood his doubt. It was a claim that defied everything we knew about the undead creatures that now roamed the earth. "They just... don't seem to see me."
"You're saying you're invisible to them?" Cassidy chimed in, her wide eyes flicking back and forth between me and Andy.
I shrugged, knowing how insane it sounded. But it was the truth. "Not exactly invisible, they just don't react to me. It's like I don't register on their radar."
Andy was still eyeing me with a suspicious gaze. He seemed to be weighing up the validity of my claim, no doubt running through every encounter he'd had with a zombie and trying to see if there was any precedent for my seeming immunity.
"That's... incredible," he finally admitted, rubbing his temples as he tried to process the information. "How is that even possible?"
I shook my head, admitting my ignorance. "I have no idea. I didn't believe it myself at first, but I've seen it too many times now to doubt it."
The room fell silent again, each of us lost in our thoughts. It was Cassidy who broke the silence this time, her voice full of excitement and awe. "Do you have any idea what this means? You could just walk into that supermarket and get whatever we need. The raiders wouldn't even see you coming!"
The idea had occurred to me, of course. My unique condition offered a lot of advantages in a world overrun by zombies. But it also came with its own risks. There was no guarantee that it wouldn't suddenly stop working. Or that the zombies wouldn't somehow sense me if I was actively trying to interfere with them.
"I guess that's true," I conceded, considering the possibilities. "But we'd have to be very careful. There's still the issue of the raiders."
Andy looked thoughtful, his fingers tapping a rhythm on the workbench as he mulled over the information. "Well, if you're up for it, I think it's worth a try. We're desperate for supplies and medicine."
Cassidy was already nodding her agreement, the wheels in her mind turning as she started to formulate a plan. "I'm in," she said, determination burning in her eyes.
I took a deep breath, acknowledging the gravity of what we were considering. "Okay, let's do it. Let's raid that supermarket."
"Since you guys have made up your mind, I wanna show you guys something." Andy grinned, then signaled us to follow him. With our own curiosity hanging in the air, we decided to follow him.
***
As the tarp fell away, what stood before us was not just a truck. It was a formidable fortress on wheels, every inch a testament to Andy's mechanical genius. A behemoth of a vehicle, it was outfitted with an assortment of modifications that made it look like it had just rolled off the set of a post-apocalyptic movie. It was clearly meant to handle whatever the end of the world could throw at it.
"Wow," Cassidy was the first to break the silence, her eyes wide with wonder. "This is... it's amazing, Andy."
Andy beamed at the compliment. "Meet the 'Endeavor.' My dad and I started working on it when the outbreak started. Dad was a huge fan of Mad Max and always dreamed of having a vehicle like this. When everything went to hell, we decided to make that dream a reality."
It was a monster of a vehicle, built on the frame of a heavy-duty pickup truck. Thick, reinforced metal plates covered every inch of the body, while the windows were shielded by a steel mesh, allowing visibility but providing protection. A set of large, off-road tires gave it a domineering stance, and the roof held a makeshift turret, equipped with what looked like a heavy machine gun.
"Fully armored, bulletproof glass, modified suspension, four-wheel drive... she can take a hit and keep on going," Andy said, patting the side of the truck with pride. "And with that beast of a machine gun up top, she can dish out some damage, too."
I took a step closer, reaching out to run my fingers along the cool metal surface. "This is impressive work, Andy," I admitted. My eyes wandered over to the engine compartment. "What's under the hood?"
"We've got a V8 engine modified for maximum torque and power. She won't win any races, but she'll get you through a horde of zombies without breaking a sweat. Plus, she runs on diesel. Easier to find and store in large quantities," Andy explained.
I was thoroughly impressed. Not only was the Endeavor a sight to behold, but it was also clearly designed with practicality in mind. It was a beast built for survival, for thriving in a world overrun by the undead.
"Alright, let's gear up then. If we're going to raid that supermarket, we might as well do it in style," Cassidy declared, her eyes glinting with excitement. She was a gun enthusiast, after all, and the prospect of utilizing the Endeavor's arsenal was a thrill she couldn't hide.
Our discussion echoed throughout Andy's garage as we dissected the plan in detail, mapping routes, coordinating timings, and planning escape strategies.
"So, you want us to basically stir up a hornet's nest of zombies and lead them straight to the raiders?" Andy raised an eyebrow, tracing our planned route on a worn city map.
"That's about the gist of it," I replied, folding my arms over my chest. "The raiders will be forced to deal with the zombies. It will give us the distraction we need."
"But there's a catch," Cassidy added, her finger tracing a winding path on the map that led out of the city. "Once we have the zombies tailing us, we have to lead them away from the supermarket. Can't risk trapping him," she pointed at me, "inside with the raiders and the horde."
"Got it," Andy nodded, clearly processing the strategy. "We make a pass by the supermarket, stir things up, then lead the horde out of there before things get too heated."
"And while they're dealing with the zombies," Ms. Yan chimed in, her voice steady and determined, "He goes in, grabs the supplies, and gets out."
"Sounds like a plan," I said, grinning back at her. We were about to make our move, to take on the raiders and stock up on the supplies we so desperately needed. With Andy's truck, our chances had just dramatically improved.
Q: What would your customized vehicle in a zombie apocalypse look like?
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone