Chapter 788： shake

Old Harris did not stay too much in the camp, and he remained concerned about his son's condition. The priest in the camp also couldn't help it, but comforted: "We are so helpless that everything can only be done by God's will."

You **** * am teasing me!

The old Harris, who was on the road again, kept swearing. The cataclysm and the advent of the nuclear winter completely disturbed human thought. The faithful began to become unbeliever, and the unbelieving eager to find a way to rely on his soul. In short, people are advanced creatures and have corresponding spiritual needs.

The next journey was quite smooth. Old Harris also saw several other camps, but he didn't go in to waste time. He finally ran back to Washington at dawn, and hurried to the White House.

Although one person's messenger team was too shabby, Old Harris still saw the ‘zombie’ Bill who was in charge of the mutant management. But when he was thinking about how to figure out something to cheer the other side, Bill let him go.

"Leave? I'm the messenger for the Brotherhood of New Jersey. Commander Simon personally appointed it."

"He appointed at least three or four messengers like you. Someone drove over before you, so you said you were late."

Fuck! Hurrying to hurry and even be late, old Harris stayed for a while, "then ... where is my son?"

"Should have breakfast at a nearby camp, you should find it yourself."

Anxiously tired for three full days, Old Harris found that his identity as a messenger could not be of any use. He was kicked out somehow, and then found his son among a group of refugees on the southern lawn of the White House.

"Little Harris, God bless me, I'm really afraid of losing you." Seeing his son intact, Old Harris ran forward cheering, hugging his son, and burst into tears, "Well, boy, don't Fear. Dad will take you out of here. "

"Daddy, don't be nervous, I think it's fine here." Little Harris was not so scared. The teenage boy looked particularly bold.

"Don't be kidding. Mutants are everywhere here, and I don't want to stay here." Old Harris looked serious and dragged his son to leave.

"Dad, I'm not kidding. Although the mutant looks fierce, there is no threat as long as he is full." Little Harris took his father's hand to the camp and shouted at a cook-like person: " Can I have a breakfast for my father? "

A simple tray, an iron spoon, and a large sticky breakfast, the two of Harris also occupied a small table and two chairs in the camp.

"What the **** is this?" Old Harris had been boiled for three days and three nights, hungry and exhausted, and had no resistance to food. He took a spoon and felt that it was okay. The paste-like breakfast was added with salt and a small amount of fat, so he could eat it.

"I heard that it is protein powder, nutrient-rich and easy to digest. I have eaten this for the past three days, and I have tried all six flavors, but refugees can eat it every day." Harris said, lowering his voice. "Dad, I found a way to get rich here."

"What's the way?" Old Harris quickly put the food in his mouth and looked up at his son. He is now sensitive to any method of survival.

"I worked as a handyman for those 'zombies' and mutants in the White House these two days, listening to them talking about recruiting more professionals. Don't look at the many refugees here, but most of them don't meet their requirements.

It is said that behind this mutant is the 'Aurora Corps', which needs various industrial equipment and manufacturing personnel, or specialized agricultural populations. They paid a high price to acquire talent in this area.

Many people have organized slave arrest teams to arrest people. We feel we can do this business as well. I know that many people in Philadelphia should meet the requirements of the Legion, and we can make a lot of money before the news spreads. "The little Harris is a big ghost, and seems to be eager to try.

"No." Old Harris flatly refused. "We can't do this kind of thing. This is a crime against the will of others."

But Harris changed his perspective immediately and said, "So we can help others get help. Is this always okay? How many people are living on the verge of death? We try to get them to Washington or Baltimore to make them live, and we You can make a lot of money. "

This ..., it seems impossible to refute!

Old Harris's spoons stopped in midair. He remembered the way he had rushed to Washington overnight, a few hours ago, where there was a constant stream of people hoping to be contained, and which halfway through the mass of dead bodies, Or crying or numb survivors.

"We are helping others, and God will approve it. And the Aurora Corps is really rewarding." Little Harris did not mix with the mutant for two or three days. He waited for his father to finish a simple meal. Breakfast, they pulled each other to a small port in Washington.

The port has been transformed into a bazaar dedicated to population trade. Little Harris explained: "At present, many people voluntarily follow the Aurora Corps, but not many people can get on board. The legion does not want a general service population."

The port bazaar is extremely noisy and chaotic, and people are full of voice. Old Harris saw crowds of people clamoring, but in the face of heavily armed mutant soldiers, no one dared to impact the boarding line of defense.

"Everyone knows that boarding a boat can survive, but not everyone gets permission. Those who are crying are unable to get visas and are denied. Some people can't even accept it and commit suicide on the spot." Little Harris also sighed about this.

Many people are registering their information, but a dozen zombies are handling the work. "Zombies" without emotional fluctuations simply ignore the begging and crying of applicants. They will ask various questions or conduct on-site tests, and strictly select the people they need.

"The Legion picks people at three levels: A, B, and C, which are high-end talents, professional talents, non-technical or service personnel. The C-level will be driven away, the B-level can get on board, and the A-level can get preferential treatment.

Provide a B grade and get 5 gold coins, and A grade is 100 gold coins. And the port here is quite rich in materials, weapons, ammunition, and living supplies, which look extremely tempting. "Little Harris was already in a frown.

Old Harris walked around the crowd of the bazaar and had to admit that there was no intimidation. On the contrary, many people wished to be slaves in order to board the Aurora Rescue ship.

But only college degree or above ~ www.novelhall.com ~, or people with technical expertise, or young and beautiful women can really be rescued. Others could only watch the lucky ones boarding and leaving, no way.

Everyone who boarded the ship got a gift pack with cigarettes, coffee and even candy. A small number of A-level high-end talents can even get small pieces of roasted chicken and wine.

Most people are hungry and thin, and can't help eating it on the spot after getting food. The gobbling look is even more attractive to board the ship.

Little Harris watched the flesh drool, took his father's hand and shook, "Dad, please. Let's do it, we have a gun, and a motorcycle. We can now draw a ticket to organize a rescue team, Do you think? "

Old Harris really shook himself. He was also stunned by the food distributed by the Aurora Corps and couldn't help swallowing. He glanced through the crowd, selected a tall man who also took his family, and said, "Hey, I want to organize a slave hunting team. Are you interested in partnering?"

The opposite man immediately understood the proposal of Old Harris and nodded again and again. Even when others around them heard their proposals, they all surrounded them. This has been a simple piece of slavery. (To be continued.)