-Quentin's POV-
-Six Hours Later-
A while later, I decided to have a little chat with the man we brought back. After asking Taylor to be let down into the basement where the man was being held, I was guided downstairs to where he was. The basement was white with a single light above me. In the middle of the basement was the man, who was tied down to a chair with some rope. He was still out, so after I dragged a chair over, I kicked at his leg. He didn't stir, and in response, I just dumped a water bottle I had on his head, causing him to jump.
"Fuck!" He yelled. He looked around wildly before finally focusing on me, and, to my surprise and somewhat relief, he didn't begin struggling. Instead, he just stared at me, fear in his eyes. "Hello." I spoke. It took him a while to reply. "Hi." He meekly said.
"The road, you shot that man." I said, and his eyes widened with fear. "I had to, if I didn't, my emperor would've punished me by sending me to the room of correction!" I noticed the panic rise in his voice. "Okay, okay, stop." I took a deep breath and sighed.
"What's your name?" I asked. "Evan, Evan Korklan." The man replied, still keeping his focus on me. "Alright Evan, who are these people you joined up with?"
"They call themselves the Revivalists, and besides them making people turn, I don't know that much about them." Evan replied. I however, wasn't entirely convinced. "Anything else?" I asked, and Evan thought for a moment before replying. "I do remember they originated somewhere in Florida, and used to live in a big mall before a group wiped a large amount of them out."
"Alright...why were you out there?" I asked. "Be honest with me." Evan gulped in fear. "O-one of the Revivalists got injured, and I was assigned by my emperor to go on a supply run to get medicine for him, but while I was there, I heard the alarm go off, and some of the lurkers got in where I was hiding."
"Why'd the emperor not let him turn?" I asked, confused on the injury part. "I don't know, I only joined five months ago and can't figure him out." Evan replied. "Trying to find out what he's going to do next is like trying to solve a Rubix cube with your hands tied behind your back." Evan laughed a little at his comparison, but I didn't as I was mainly focused on getting information out of him.
"How many are there?" Evan paused. "Answer me, how many." Evan shrugged. "There's a lot, like, so damn many." I stood up, and Evan began panicking. "I'm serious! There's so many of them that I don't know the exact number!" Content with his answer, I sat back down, causing Evan to let out a sigh of relief. "Where are they?"
"I…" I stood up again and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. "If you don't tell me, this 'room of correction' is going to be the least of your problems." Evan furiously nodded his head. "It's a hotel, but I don't remember the name!" Evan shouted.
"How exactly don't you?" I asked, still holding his collar with a white-knuckled grip. "I think the words faded out or maybe they were covered up, but I swear I don't know the name!" Evan was shaking at this point, and I decided to release him and sat back down. "What does it look like?"
"It's big, got no paint on it, it's made of like, the stuff you'd usually think hotels have, it's near Newport." Evan hastily replied. "I'm telling the truth, I swear!" I just pinched the bridge of my nose and stood up, and Evan looked at me in fear of me hitting him again.
"I know how to get there." A voice chimed in. Turning, I saw Amanda standing at the top of the stairs, and I felt my stomach churn with anger. Amanda noticed this, and raised her hands. "I used to work there before this as a receptionist, I can take you there." I raised a brow. "Plus, I need to be useful somehow, after everything that happened."
"Alright, you can help, take us there tomorrow."