TWD:Zombie System

My plan was simple—be fully prepared before the outbreak began.

And judging by the signs, we were nearly out of time. If Rick Grimes was already in a coma, then the chain reaction had already started. The end would begin very soon.

I stepped into the elevator, Troy close behind me. As we descended, my radio buzzed to life.

"Sir," came the voice of one of my men on the ground floor, "Jessy and Ray just arrived. They're outside, in the parking lot. Not alone, by the looks of it. Several vehicles with them."

"Understood," I replied.

As the elevator doors slid open, I stepped out into the lobby. Just beyond the glass entrance, I could already see them—Jessy Jones with his signature red hair and confident posture, and Ray Donovan, calm and composed with his short blond cut. Both men were like brothers to me. Survivors. Visionaries. Fighters.

The moment they saw me, they walked over—flanked by a crowd of people behind them. A convoy of SUVs, pickups, and trailers lined the curb outside.

As they reached me, Jessy was the first to speak. "These are our people," he said, motioning to the crowd. "Family, friends, loyal workers. The ones we trust."

I nodded. "How many?"

"Including my mother and sister," Jessy answered, "we brought fifty."

Ray followed up. "I have around thirty. My parents, grandparents, and a few people who worked for me. Loyal folks."

I glanced at the group, then back at them. "That's good. We're off to a solid start."

I turned to lead them inside.

"My goal is to build a base with a thousand people—men, women, children, trained or not. Survivors who can become something more. I've already told Max to prepare the people working under me to move out to the resort… and they've agreed. Every last one of them. No objections."

Jessy gave a grin. "You always had a way with people."

Ray gave a small nod. "They believe in you."

We walked together through the hotel lobby, the murmur of the newcomers filling the space behind us.

"Oh," Jessy added, pulling something from his coat. "Ray and I also agreed on something else. We're transferring most of our money to you. Use it however you need—for gear, expansion, food, weapons. We're all-in."

"You sure about that?" I asked, stopping to face them both.

Jessy shrugged. "We've trusted your gut since the day we met."

Ray smiled. "And we'd rather put our wealth behind one unified plan than risk going at it alone."

I nodded, grateful. "Thank you. We'll need every coin, every resource."

"We also brought supplies," Jessy added. "Food, medicine, fuel—whatever we could grab fast."

Ray chimed in, "It's a lot, but nothing compared to what you've already ordered. Your stash could feed an army for years."

"It will," I said simply. "And we'll be that army."

Now that everyone had arrived, it was finally time to move.

I turned to Jessy and Ray, who stood beside me in the hotel lobby, their people gathered behind them.

"It's time," I said simply. "Let's head to the resort."

They nodded without hesitation.

Our convoy began to form in the underground garage—a long line of SUVs, pickup trucks, trailers, and vans. Every vehicle was loaded with supplies and people, and more would be joining us soon.

Troy would ride with me in one of the armored SUVs. Our driver was a former recon scout I trusted, and seated in the front passenger seat was France Oxwel, one of my most reliable bodyguards—former Delta Force. I wanted only the best with me during this first move.

Troy sat beside me in the back seat, calmly checking his tablet, eyes scanning security feeds and GPS locations.

As the convoy engines roared to life one by one, I gave the order. "Let's move."

Max stayed behind at the hotel to coordinate the second wave. More of my people—doctors, nurses, engineers, farmers, and fishermen with their families—were already en route from all across Florida. Each one had been handpicked or personally recruited for this future I was building. Max would receive them, provide shelter, and organize their eventual transfer to the resort.

The convoy pulled out, one vehicle after another, forming a solid formation on the highway.

We drove for nearly two hours across the Florida coast—passing through quiet streets and silent towns that felt just a little too quiet, as if the world was holding its breath.

And then, we arrived.

The Quan Resort.

Our future stronghold.

It stretched along a pristine stretch of white-sand beach, the sun beginning to lower over the ocean horizon. Waves gently rolled across the shore, glistening under golden light.

The resort itself consisted of five large, modern buildings spread across a lush, secured property. Each building was three to four stories tall, built with reinforced materials and stylish, functional design. Glass balconies overlooked the sea, while steel shutters could be drawn over every window for full lockdown mode.

There was a private dock extending into the turquoise water, already prepared to receive shipments. Floating nearby, swaying slightly with the waves, was a sleek 90-foot luxury yacht—fully stocked, armed, and ready to sail at a moment's notice.

Palm trees lined the perimeter, but I already knew where they'd be replaced—with watchtowers, turrets, and floodlights.

Soon, this peaceful paradise would become a fortress.

Troy looked out the window beside me. "Not bad for an end-of-the-world hideout."

"This isn't just a hideout," I replied, eyes fixed on the buildings ahead. "It's our capital."

As we stepped out of the vehicle, the salty ocean breeze hit my face. The sound of the waves rolling onto the shore was calming, but I knew better—this peace was temporary.

People began unloading from the convoy. Jessy and Ray were already organizing their groups, while bodyguards and workers moved crates of supplies into the buildings.

Just then, Leo Grant, the resort manager, approached me. Mid-40s, lean build, wearing a company polo and slacks, but sharp in the eyes. He had been running The Quan Resort for years and had stayed behind to maintain it as I instructed.

"Mr. Walt," Leo greeted with a respectful nod, "Welcome back. Everything is ready, just as you requested. Suites have been cleaned and prepared, supplies delivered to the kitchens. I see we're expecting quite a few more guests than usual."

I gave a brief smile. "We're not operating a resort anymore, Leo. We're building a base. A fortress."

He raised a brow, but didn't question it.

"I want you to help accommodate the people we brought with us—assign them rooms by family unit, prioritize the elderly and children for the upper floors. The rest can rotate shifts helping with logistics."

"Yes, sir," Leo nodded. "And what about security?"

"They'll be integrated," I said firmly. "From now on, my bodyguards and your existing resort security will merge into one command. Troy will oversee the full integration."

Troy stepped forward and gave Leo a nod. "I'll coordinate patrols, weapon distribution, and emergency drills. We'll need a security roster by tonight."

Leo's gaze shifted between us, taking in the sudden shift in tone from hospitality to militarization. But to his credit, he nodded without hesitation. "Understood. I'll give you full access to the staff list and get my people ready to follow orders."

"Good," I said. "Because this is just the beginning."

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