Chapter 31: The Price of Refusal

The Next Morning

Three knocks sounded through the apartment. Zarek was already on his feet when they came.

He slipped the revolver into system space and opened the door.

Nolan stood outside alone. His eyes flicked toward the weapon before settling on Zarek’s face.

"Morning. Hope I didn’t wake you."

"You did."

"Sorry about that." Nolan gave him a smile. "I was hoping we could talk."

"About what?"

"The meeting I mentioned yesterday. Our leader wants to speak with you personally."

Zarek leaned against the doorframe. "And why should I care what your leader wants?"

"Because you’ve got three people staying in an apartment without contributing to the group, and she wants to understand what you’re planning." Nolan paused.

"She’s willing to make a deal. Supplies, information, access to safer areas of the building. Things that might interest you."

That last part caught Zarek’s attention.

He had food, weapons, and a place to sleep. What he lacked was reliable information about the building and the people occupying it. If this group had established supply routes or access to secured rooms, meeting its leader could be worthwhile.

Of course, he had no intention of becoming anyone’s subordinate.

"Fine. Let’s hear what she has to offer."

Nolan’s shoulders relaxed slightly. "Good. She’s two floors up. I’ll take you there."

Zarek turned toward the apartment.

"Elsa. Ayesha."

Both women looked up to him.

"I’m going with him. Keep the door locked."

"How long?" Elsa asked.

"Depends on how interesting the conversation is."

He stepped into the corridor, then glanced back at them.

"If anyone comes knocking while I’m gone, don’t open the door."

Ayesha nodded. Elsa tightened her grip on the pry bar beside the sofa.

Zarek followed Nolan upstairs.

The twenty-third floor had been turned into a communal living area.

Someone had dragged furniture out of several apartments to clear the corridor. Tables stood against the walls, covered with sorted supplies: bottled water, canned food, batteries, medicine, and bundles of clothing.

A few survivors sat nearby, repairing torn bags or checking the contents of their packs.

Two men guarded the entrance to a larger apartment. One carried a wooden club. The other had a hunting knife tucked into his belt.

Neither looked particularly well-fed.

Both watched Zarek as he approached.

"He’s with me," Nolan said.

The man with the club stepped aside, though his attention lingered on the sword at Zarek’s hip.

Inside, a woman sat behind a table with a notebook open in front of her. She looked to be in her early thirties, with short, uneven hair and dark circles beneath her eyes. A knife lay within easy reach of her right hand.

She finished writing something before looking up.

"Nolan tells me you’re the man who refused to contribute."

"Depends on what you consider a contribution."

"I’m Mara. I manage this section of the building."

"Then you’re the one deciding who eats and who doesn’t."

Mara set down her pen.

"Someone has to decide how we distribute what little we have. Unless you’d rather leave everyone to fight over it."

"Let’s keep this simple. We have people collecting supplies, maintaining the barricades, and watching the entrances. Everyone who benefits from that work is expected to contribute something."

"And who decides how much everyone gets?"

"I do."

A man standing beside the table folded his arms. He was broad-shouldered, with a bandage wrapped around his left palm.

"Someone has to make the decisions," the man said.

"You think we can survive if everyone just takes whatever they want?"

"Probably not. But that doesn’t mean your way is fair."

"And what would you know about running a group like this?"

"Nothing. I just know that when one person controls the food, everyone else has a reason to keep that person happy."

The man’s jaw tightened. "You calling us thieves?"

"I’m saying hungry people don’t get much choice."

"Watch your mouth."

Zarek glanced at him. "Or what?"

The man took a step forward, but Mara raised a hand.

"Enough."

Her expression tightened.

"We distribute supplies according to need," she said.

"People who can work help with collection, repairs, and security. If someone can’t fight or go outside, we find something else they can do."

"And if they refuse?"

"Then they can’t expect everyone else to keep feeding them."

Zarek looked over the supplies stacked against the wall.

"So you cut them off."

"If they contribute nothing and refuse every alternative, yes. I have people here who haven’t eaten properly in days. I’m not taking food from them to support someone who simply doesn’t want to work."

Zarek gave a small nod. At least she understood the value of a resource, even if he had no intention of accepting her rules.

Mara leaned back in her chair.

"There is another reason I wanted to speak with you. Nolan says you have experience fighting the creatures outside."

"Some."

"Four people went out yesterday to recover supplies from a secured storage area. They were supposed to return before nightfall. They haven’t."

"Then they’re probably dead."

"Nobody knows that," the man with the bandaged hand muttered.

"Nobody’s seen them return either," Mara replied. "They went out yesterday with a key to a secured armory. We haven’t heard from them since."

"And you want me to go looking?"

"I want someone who can get down there, find out what happened, and come back alive."

"Why not send your own people?"

"Because four of them are already missing. Sending another team without knowing what happened to the first would be stupid."

Zarek studied her for a moment.

"So you need an outsider you can afford to lose."

Mara’s mouth tightened.

"I need someone who isn’t already responsible for keeping this floor running. I can’t strip the guards from our entrances and send the people collecting food into a place they know nothing about."

Zarek almost laughed. At least she was honest enough not to dress it up as a noble mission.

"What was in the armory?"

"Equipment, ammunition, medical supplies. Possibly more. The storage area was sealed when we found it, and we never managed to get the door open."

He considered the information.

Four people had vanished. A secured armory might contain weapons and ammunition. If the team had been killed, the key could be lying somewhere along the route. If they were still alive, he could decide what to do with them after finding out what they knew.

Either way, there was a chance to gain something valuable.

"What do I get?"

Mara seemed prepared for the question.

"You get a share of whatever we recover. Weapons, ammunition, medical supplies. We’ll also let you use our storage facilities."

"How generous."

Mara ignored the sarcasm. "You haven’t even seen the place. I can’t promise you a specific amount before we know what’s there."

"Then you can find someone else to risk his neck for you."

"We’re offering you a chance to get your hands on an armory. You’d be going after it anyway if you knew it was there."

"Maybe. But I wouldn’t be splitting anything with you."

Mara watched him carefully. "What do you want?"

"An agreed share of the weapons, ammunition, and medical supplies. Decide the numbers now, while we’re both sitting here. I’m not going down there, doing the dangerous part, and then listening to you explain why my share suddenly got smaller."

The man with the bandaged hand stepped forward.

"You walk in here and start making demands—"

"That’s the third time you’ve interrupted me."

Zarek retrieved the revolver from System Space and brought it up, aiming directly at the man’s face.

"Do it again. Go on."

The man’s face reddened.

Mara stood, placing both hands on the table.

"Half of the recovered equipment and medical supplies goes to you," Mara said. "The rest stays with the group. Food and ordinary supplies are separate."

"Three quarters of the weapons and ammunition."

"Two thirds of the weapons and ammunition. Half the medical supplies. That’s my final offer."

Zarek held her gaze for a moment before lowering the revolver.

"Fine. That’s what we’ll tell everyone."

Mara paused, perhaps expecting another argument.

Zarek had no intention of handing over anything he recovered. The negotiation was just a way to find out how much the group knew and what they were willing to offer.

"Good," she said. "Then we have an agreement."

Before Zarek could answer, the door swung open.

A young man stumbled inside, breathing hard.

"The lower access door."

Mara’s expression sharpened. "What about it?"

"Someone opened it."

"Who?"

"I don’t know. Two people were watching the entrance, but neither saw anyone. The barricade was still in place when they checked. The door was open behind it."

"That makes no sense."

"I know."

The young man swallowed.

"The radio’s working again. There’s someone on the other end."

Mara immediately reached for the radio on the table.

"Put it on."

Static crackled from the speaker.

A faint scraping sound followed, then a voice.

"Hello? Can anyone hear me?"

Mara snatched up the radio.

"This is Mara on the twenty-third floor. Identify yourself."

For several seconds, there was nothing but static.

Then the voice returned.

"Don’t send anyone down."

The room fell silent.

Mara leaned closer to the radio.

"Who is this? Are you one of the missing team?"

A ragged breath came through the speaker.

"Please. Don’t send anyone."

"Tell me what happened. Where are you?"

Something struck a hard surface on the other end. The sound was followed by hurried footsteps.

Then the voice spoke again.

"It’s here."

Mara gripped the radio tighter.

"What is?"

A long, uneven breath.

"Something’s wearing his face."

The transmission cut out.