TWD - Chapter 535: Matters Concerning The Pope (Patreon)

As Benson followed Leah into the office, Calista was resting her chin in her hand, deep in thought, her fingertips tapping rhythmically on the desk.

She looked up, her gray-blue eyes lingering on Benson’s face for a moment, then pointed to the chair in front of the desk. “Sit down, Benson.”

Benson sat down, and Leah pulled up a chair from the side and sat down naturally.

Calista leaned back in her chair and cast a curious glance at her sister. Leah signaled that it was Benson who had come to see her, so she turned back to him. “What do you want to talk about?”

Benson took a deep breath. “You need to know the full picture about The Pope.”

Calista nodded, gesturing for him to continue.

Benson organized his thoughts. “There are 38 Reapers in total, three squads from Sentinel Tactical. Excluding the 11 in my squad, there are now 27, including The Pope and the Priest.

“The Pope was the company’s boss even before the apocalypse. He handled strategic planning and client relations. He didn’t often go into the field, but everyone knew him. He was like a mascot, except this mascot killed people.”

Calista’s eyebrows twitched slightly. She stood up, pulled a map roll from a nearby shelf, and unfolded it on the table. “Where exactly?”

“Alexandria.” Benson leaned in, followed her finger with his gaze, then tapped a spot farther along the map, in southern Alexandria, south of Arlington, along the Potomac River. “Right here. It used to be the ‘Potomac Steel and Shipbuilding’ plant.”

Leah furrowed her brow. “A shipyard?”

“Right!” Benson nodded, leaned back in his chair, and crossed his legs. “Three gantry cranes, an abandoned workshop, and a pile of rusty scrap metal.

“If you look from the other side of the river, you can see a huge cross welded to the top of the largest gantry crane, over ten meters high and pieced together from sheet metal. It creaks and groans in the wind like something straight out of an R-rated movie.”

He paused, as if recalling something unpleasant. “That place is basically a scrapyard. The moment you walk in, you can smell it: the fishy stink of the river, rust, and the acrid reek of something burning.

“There’s a huge pit there. The Pope calls it the ‘Furnace of Purification,’ but it’s really just a burn pit about five meters across, built from firebrick and scrap steel plates. It burns year-round, and they throw everything into it. Walker corpses, enemy corpses, and sometimes even their own people.”

Leah tapped her fingers lightly on the table. “Even our own people?”

“Right.” Benson nodded, his expression turning strange. “Anyone who made a mistake or wasn’t ‘devout enough’ got tied up and thrown in. The Pope called that purification.

“Our three squads were mine, Valentino’s, and Xavier’s.

“Valentino didn’t believe in the whole ‘Chosen Ones’ thing at all. He said The Pope had gone insane because of the apocalypse. After one argument, The Pope kicked him into the fire...”

He paused. “After that, the others believed. They didn’t dare not to. Eventually, everyone got used to it, though even saying ‘got used to it’ in this context is pretty terrifying.”

Leah’s expression visibly darkened. Calista did not pursue the subject and changed topics. “What about weapons?”

Benson laughed, the kind of laugh that said, “Finally, the important part.” “You probably think they have a lot of weapons because they came from the company. They don’t.”

“Why?”

“Because the company headquarters is in Arlington, not at the shipyard,” Benson said. “Back then, after we escaped from the church, we headed north, hoping to grab some more weapons from headquarters.

“Guess what happened?

“Headquarters had already been ransacked. The gates were wide open, the warehouse was empty, and the floor was littered with shell casings.

“No idea who did it, but by the time we got there, all that was left were a few boxes of unwanted junk in the corner.”

He spread his hands. “So since the apocalypse, we’ve been surviving on the meager supplies we brought back at the time.

“We’ve got a little over twenty rifles, and even rationing the ammunition isn’t enough. Our one M60 is precious. We take it on every mission and collect it again the moment the fighting ends because we’re terrified of losing it.”

Benson paused, a trace of self-mockery in his voice. “We’re not short on melee weapons, though. At least those can be reused after a fight.”

Calista’s gaze narrowed slightly. “So what do you guys use to fight?”

Benson looked at her for a moment, then shrugged. “We rely on our people. We’re strong enough.”

Calista did not press him. She nodded. “I know the location. Anything else?”

Benson thought for a moment. “Our only communications gear is walkie-talkies. Some have loose contacts and need a smack before they work, so most of the time we stay radio silent. Unless something happens, we don’t call in.”

Leah spoke up, “How far is it from Alexandria?”

Benson did the math. “By car, Alexandria is about as far away as the Four Seasons Resort. A little over two hours.

“I’d guess they’ve already discovered Alexandria by now. The Pope won’t let information like that go.”

Calista’s gaze fell on the spot marked on the map. “What will he do?”

Benson shook his head. “Hard to say, but he’s definitely waiting. He thinks you’ll go back. He thinks the Lord will lead you back with more people, and then he can wipe you all out at once.”

He stood and looked at Calista. “The Pope doesn’t know you’re not going back at all. He doesn’t know Alexandria isn’t some precious base to you. After all, you have a place like this.”

Calista did not respond. Benson leaned forward, braced both hands on the table, and looked at the shipyard marked on the map. “So he’ll wait there for an enemy who’s never coming.”

He looked up at Calista. “What about you? Do you want to wait, or do you want to go find him?”

Calista looked up and gave a meaningful smile. “What do you think?”

Benson laughed. “I think you guys should start getting ready.”

Calista nodded. “We will.”

“Oh, right,” Benson said, remembering something. “There’s one more thing you need to know.”

Calista raised an eyebrow.

“Those 27 people aren’t a single solid block,” Benson said. “There are a few core people around The Pope, fanatical believers who can’t be swayed. But the people on the outside are different. Some are terrified into obedience, and some are like my people. They want to leave, but they don’t dare.”

He paused. “If we can find an opportunity, maybe we can turn them. Of course, that’s assuming you have enough cigarettes.”

Calista shot him a glance.

Leah spoke up from the side, her face expressionless: “He’s been craving Marlboros these past couple of days.”

Benson shrugged. “There aren’t many things in the apocalypse that I crave.”

Calista didn’t respond to that. She stood up and cracked her neck. “Benson, how much do you know about the Wolves?”

Benson stood up as well and walked over to her side.

“I know a little,” he said. “They’re active in northern Virginia, overlapping with our territory. My mission was to wipe them out.”

“An order from The Pope?”

“The Pope,” Benson said. “He said the Wolves were unclean beasts, defiling God’s land, and had to be purified. I wanted to say, ‘You’re the fucking beast,’ but I didn’t dare.”

“How long were you out there?”

“Half a month,” Benson said. “We mapped out their patterns, found their base camp, and then… well, you saw what happened.”

His voice dropped as he remembered the squadmates he had lost. “But the Wolves aren’t pushovers. They have faith, and they’re completely crazy. We lost four of our people taking down dozens of theirs.”

Calista turned to face Benson. “How much intelligence do you still have on the Wolves?”

Benson thought for a moment. “Their leader is nicknamed the Wolf King. The Wolves’ beliefs are the opposite of The Pope’s, but they’re just as crazy.”

He paused. “And it seems they don’t smoke, which really lowers my opinion of them.”

Calista ignored his joke. She walked back to the table and said to Leah and Benson, “Let’s go meet that Wolf King.”

“Wait!” Seeing the sisters about to leave, Benson hurried after them.

Leah turned her head. “What is it?”

“How many points is this information about The Pope worth? If I spend all of it on cigarettes, can I get a discount per pack? They cost more than the other daily supplies.”

Leah: …

Calista took a deep breath and put on a perfectly polite smile. “Leah, count this as top-tier reconnaissance intel for him. But limit his cigarette exchange quota!”