Chapter 60: The Silent Racecourse

The corpse of the zombie cow rolled and dragged across the grass, leaving a trail of bloodstains that, as the blood drained away, gradually faded into mere impressions flattened into the withered grass.

Gavin drove back to the front of the cowboys' dormitory, circled half a turn past the numerous zombie corpses, and swung the tail of the truck to drag the zombie cow close by.

Stopping the vehicle, Gavin stepped out to inspect the path and courtyard strewn with bodies, then raised a hand toward the Dodge pickup, which still bore slight traces of being on fire, and said, "I'll go find a fire extinguisher. We need to hose this thing down."

"I'll go, Boss."

Madison cut in before Gavin could finish, scurrying off to search the cowboys' dormitory.

Seeing this, Gavin said nothing and continued to stroll leisurely among the dead cowboys.

His gaze swept over one face after another, sending occasional pangs of heartache through his chest.

Beside him, Eugene grinned and asked Gavin with a smile, "So, Boss, see any good buddies of yours?"

"Shut your damn mouth. I actually have quite a few acquaintances here."

Gavin cursed back without looking back, simultaneously squatting down in front of a black-haired zombie.

At this, Eugene also squatted down beside the zombie, chuckling as he continued to probe, "What's so special about him? Did he rock you to sleep when you were a baby, or is it because all the other zombies are wearing pajamas while he's decked out in full cowboy gear?"

"No, he's Giorno, one of our veteran cowboys. He was working for my family long before I expanded the scale of the farm. By now, he should at least be a lead cowboy."

With that, Gavin opened Giorno's lapel to search. Finding nothing, he rolled the corpse over.

Sure enough, once flipped, Giorno had a walkie-talkie hanging from his waist.

Seeing this, Gavin promptly unclipped the device.

Beside him, Eugene's expression lit up with delight.

"Sweet. Once we've got these, communication becomes a breeze. How far can walkie-talkies like this reach, Boss?"

"Distance isn't an issue," Gavin explained to Eugene, clutching the walkie-talkie. "We have a lot of cowboys in my family, so walkie-talkies are standard equipment. If I remember correctly, there are at least four relay stations within the farm's perimeter."

"They're set up at the resort airstrip, my manor, the eastern manor airstrip, and the Richard County Sheriff's Department!"

"At this hour, the relay stations shouldn't be malfunctioning. Of course, we'll still need to go back later and retrieve them all, placing them in more secure locations to protect them."

"With these four relay stations, radio communication across the entire farm will remain crystal clear!"

Having said that, Gavin brought the walkie-talkie decisively to his mouth.

Pressing the transmit button, he spoke up, "Cowboys, this is Gavin. Respond if you copy!"

With that, Gavin clutched the device and waited for a moment.

Unfortunately, there was no reply.

Eugene couldn't help turning his head away to gaze at the farm's sky.

Ah, that sun was bright as hell.

Meanwhile, Gavin keyed the radio again, repeating, "This is Gavin. Is anyone still alive?"

This time, Gavin waited a full five seconds before shaking his head, standing up, and clipping the walkie-talkie to his belt.

"Eugene."

He gestured to Eugene with a wave of his hand. "Go find the walkie-talkies. Collect every single one of them."

"Uh-huh, right away. Wicked boss, damn capitalism~"

Eugene rolled his eyes at Gavin, drew his pistol, and plunged straight into the dormitory.

Gavin continued his search among the outdoor zombie corpses.

Before long, Madison emerged hugging a fire extinguisher, blasting the Dodge pickup until he was certain there were no remaining safety hazards. Only then did he set the extinguisher down and join the walkie-talkie collection effort.

Some thirteen or fourteen minutes later, Gavin was leaning against the front of the Raptor with his rifle, silently gazing out at the scenes of carnage.

The walkie-talkie at his waist suddenly emitted an exaggerated shout!

"God, Gavin, are you still alive?! Holy mother of God!"

Hearing this voice, Gavin's muscles instinctively tensed for a fraction of a second.

Yet a mere moment later, he let out a speechless chuckle, keyed his radio, and replied, "Eugene, if you pull a stupid stunt like that again, I'm going to rip your ears off and stuff them down your throat!"

"Haha, busted. I was just trying to lighten the mood for you, and Old Mac totally supported me~" Eugene's voice crackled through the radio.

"Fuck you, Eugene, I did not!" Madison cursed back over the radio with a guilty conscience.

After their banter, the two of them walked out of the dormitory together.

Madison showed Gavin the walkie-talkies cradled in his arms—there were a staggering sixteen of them in total.

Mind you, walkie-talkies weren't handed out one per person; a single cowboy squad only needed one to function properly.

Considering that each cowboy squad had at least six or seven members, the dormitory area should have harbored far more zombies. It seemed a great many cowboys must have gathered in the town for a wild celebration.

Seeing that everyone had finished scavenging, Gavin nodded, slapped the Raptor's hood, and said, "Alright, get in. The horse ranch is less than three kilometers straight ahead."

With that, the three of them climbed into the vehicle and set off, quickly crossing two kilometers of grassland and appearing in the distance of a massive horse ranch.

The horse ranch, the dairy farm, and the manor itself formed a triangle, roughly equidistant from one another.

The only difference was that the horse ranch occupied a much larger area than the dairy farm.

Although Gavin Manor only raised a few hundred horses, keep in mind that the vast majority of those horses were being bred and trained as racehorses!

Consequently, around the horse ranch, not only was there a vast expanse of open land and pasture connecting to the back of the manor, but various horse racing tracks—such as turf tracks and dirt tracks—had also been constructed to facilitate racehorse training.

The layout of these numerous tracks alone took up an immense amount of land.

At that moment, inside the Raptor.

Gazing at the endless racing tracks in the distance, Eugene spat in annoyance, slapping the back of the driver's seat and saying, "I swear, I hate you rich bastards more and more. Man, I really should become the boss myself and make a capitalist like you suffer under my boot to vent this pent-up frustration, haha~"

"Heh, feel free to try if you want. Later on, once we've got more people, we'll set up a boxing ring. If you can beat me..."

Gavin turned his head, looking back at Eugene with teasing amusement, shook his head with absolute certainty, and smiled, "Never mind, you can't beat me."

"Enough, Boss, stop messing with me. I still have to work, and you can't survive without me!"

Eugene let out a ha-ha, feeling a healthy wariness of Gavin's fists, and hastily propped his MK11 on the window sill to peer toward the horse ranch dormitory.

Seeing Eugene enter work mode, Gavin grinned, turned back, and pulled out his binoculars to observe as well.

Logically speaking, a glance or two should have been enough; with the experience gained from the cowboy dormitory, this task ought to be simple.

Yet for some reason, after taking a look, Gavin and Eugene fell into an eerie silence.

In the passenger seat, Madison waited for over a minute without hearing either of them speak, so he anxiously blurted out, "What's going on, Boss, Eugene? Why'd you guys suddenly go quiet?!"

Madison rubbed his forearm, feeling goosebumps erupt across his skin.

Fortunately, Gavin finally spoke up. Lowering his binoculars, he frowned and said, "Looks like someone's been here!"

"What?"

Hearing this, Madison turned pale with shock and couldn't help shouting, "You mean our turf got hijacked?!"

"Relax, big guy, it just means someone's been here, because the zombies around this area seem to have been lured away!"

Eugene kicked the dashboard, interrupting Madison's panic, while lowering his rifle to continue. "Anyway, just like the Boss, I don't see a single zombie outside. Boss, should I make some noise and test the waters?"

"Go ahead."

Gavin nodded in agreement, and Eugene immediately placed his crosshairs on a window of the horse ranch dormitory.

Bang!

With a single shot, the glass shattered instantly, the cracking sound faintly audible even to the men a kilometer away.

Even so, not a single zombie rushed out of the dormitory to charge toward the source of the sound.

Only the thoroughbreds in the ranch let out a few whinnies, startled by the breaking glass.