Chapter 89: The Burned Oil Well

Rick got the gig to run Little Oasis, while Wellington, Oliver, and Nathan hopped in a pickup and headed to the settlement.

Just like Sam said, the place was a hot mess, everyone freaking out. The roads through the refugee camp were empty, no vendors in sight. Fuel? Nah, they didn't care about that. What had them sweating bullets was the salt well. Sure, the admin sent folks to fix it, but who knew if they could pull it off?

Old-timers in the settlement remembered how digging that salt well was a nightmare, took a ton of people and resources, and a whole month to finish.

The big shots had more on their plate than just the salt well. Losing fuel was a big deal for them. Their rides and machines would be toast. No way the admin would share fuel with everyone after losing the oil well.

Maybe the regular folks didn't get how bad things were, but the power players knew the settlement was hanging by a thread. Supplies from the early days wouldn't last five years. The admin clamping down on ammo and guns was a big red flag.

The latest news? Just another kick in the teeth.

The oil well and refinery were like Fort Knox, packed with troops and the few heavy weapons they had. Oil tankers had a whole army escorting them, and the oil well had its own armed guards.

Who would've thought zombies could take over the oil well overnight?

The oil well was a high-priority zone, with patrols keeping an eye on zombies within a 3-mile radius. Usually, if the zombie count hit a certain number, the oil well garrison would get a heads-up. If zombies started moving towards the well, they'd go into combat mode, no way zombies could get close.

The whole place was surrounded by 12-foot walls and machine guns, so a zombie takeover seemed impossible.

To keep things from going nuts in the settlement, patrol squads were always cruising through the refugee camp and central town. Important spots had riot police armored vehicles. Even though everyone was panicking, there was no looting or rioting.

Wellington was starting to respect the admin's military muscle. The patrol squads looked and acted way more pro than any other team. The admin's army had Type 81 and Type 95 rifles, a few Type 03s, and some special forces even had bulletproof vests and helmets. Sam said the admin's military was 23,000 strong, a serious force.

Nobody knew how the oil well got lost, and people were whispering about it in small groups.

The post-apocalyptic world was a brutal place, no doubt. The settlement had a few chill years, tucked away from the big cities. But then, outta nowhere, a zombie horde showed up and wrecked that peace, leaving everyone freaked out. The future looked hella uncertain, and folks were losing their minds. No one knew if the zombie mob would hit the settlement next, and the refugee camp might get the short end of the stick again.

Wellington took a stroll around the settlement. His easy takedown of Ethan's crew yesterday seemed to fly under the radar. Seeing a bunch of people heading towards the oil well, Wellington got curious and drove his pickup that way too.

The oil well had been around before the world went to hell, but it was a low-key operation, and the oil company didn't give it much love. The setup was basic, and only a handful of folks worked there.

After the apocalypse hit, the oil well suddenly became a big deal. Sure, it couldn't fuel a whole city like before, but it was plenty for the settlement. Problem was, there were hardly any skilled workers left, so production just barely covered the settlement's needs.

The settlement didn't have much fuel stashed away, just enough for a month. Now that the oil well was trashed and the refinery was toast, making more oil was pretty much a pipe dream.

Even though finding new gear to refine fuel was a long shot, the admin was still trying to reclaim the oil well. They needed to keep hope alive, even if it was a long shot. So, they sent in a ton of troops to go ham on the zombie horde around the oil well.

About five or six miles from the oil well, you could hear gunfire, like distant thunder.

Two miles out, the gunfire was crazy loud, and you could see a massive blaze in the distance, probably from the burning fuel at the refinery and oil well. The fire looked like it was swallowing the whole place. Sentries were posted, and folks like Wellington were getting stopped. People who knew each other parked their cars and whispered about their worries.

Wellington wasn't about to hang around without getting any intel, so he told Oliver to turn the car around. Once they were out of sight, they ditched the road and cut through the desert.

The flat desert made it easy to dodge the sentries. A bunch of other folks had the same idea, judging by all the tire tracks. The admin was too busy dealing with the zombie horde to care about people sneaking in. They just looked the other way.

Two miles wasn't far, and after about ten minutes of desert driving, they spotted a big group of soldiers in light yellow camo, lined up and blasting away at the zombie horde.

Fighting zombies didn't need much strategy, just overlapping fields of fire to keep the bullets flying. In that open, flat terrain, even the tough zombies would get shredded. Taking down the horde wasn't that hard.

So, why the heck did the oil well fall so easily?

No one had a clue, and almost everyone who had been defending the oil well and refinery got taken out by the zombies. The answer was a big mystery, probably one that'd never get solved.