Zou Yue leaned back, holding his head. "When was the last you heard from that team?"
Uncle Wen sighed loudly, sipping his tea with trembling hands. "The last telegraph* transmission from them was a few days ago. It was a broken message." He massaged his forehead. "They.....they were surrounded, and the tank had flipped.... I haven't heard anything after,"
He nodded, gripping the armrest tightly. "It is more likely that they got caught in the hoards of zombies in the city,"
"It must be likely so..."
"So? What next, are you planning on sending another team?" Yue hopefully looked at him but much to his despair his uncle looked reluctant with this idea. "Uncle Qian is your son,"
"I can't afford to risk anymore human lives. If my son is alive, he might have to find his way home. Just like you did,"
"It's different. I had guns! He does not!"
