Chapter 49: The Cost of Survival

By the time Zarek and Mara returned to the twenty-third floor, the survivors had begun gathering near the entrance.

Their attention shifted between the two of them as the gate opened, and several people stepped forward before Mara had even finished coming inside.

"Well? Did they agree to the trade?"

Mara barely had time to catch her breath before another survivor spoke up.

"Did you get any food? How much are they giving us?"

"One at a time," Mara said, raising her voice enough to quiet the growing chatter.

"We reached an agreement. They’ll provide food in exchange for ammunition, and the first delivery should be enough to ease our immediate shortage."

A few people visibly relaxed. Someone near the back let out a relieved sigh, while another survivor began asking when the food would arrive.

"There’s a catch, isn’t there?" a man asked. "They wouldn’t agree to this unless they were getting something out of it."

"Of course they’re getting something out of it. We’re trading ammunition for food, not receiving charity."

"But we’re already short on ammunition. What happens if the monsters get inside?"

"And what happens if we run out of food first?" another survivor shot back. "You can’t shoot your way out of starvation."

More survivors joined the argument. Some wanted to preserve every round they had, while others believed food was the more urgent problem. Neither side was willing to ignore the danger of choosing incorrectly.

Mara let them argue for a short while before stepping in.

"We’re not handing over everything we own. We’ll only trade what we can afford to lose, and we’ll keep enough ammunition to defend ourselves.

The agreement gives us a chance to get through the next few days without sending people out to search for food every time our supplies run low."

"Assuming they keep their word," someone muttered.

"They agreed to a trade, not to become our friends. We’ll take the precautions we need when the exchange happens, and if they try anything, we’ll deal with it then."

Her answer wasn’t enough to satisfy everyone, but it gave the discussion a direction.

People began asking about the amount of ammunition they would need to prepare, who would be responsible for checking the supplies, and how the food should be distributed once it arrived.

Mara answered what she could, then asked two survivors to help organize the ammunition.

She wanted everything counted before the exchange so nobody could accuse her of giving away more than the group had agreed to surrender.

Zarek watched the discussion for a moment before losing interest.

Mara had secured the deal, and now she was handling the predictable consequences of it. There was little reason for him to stand around while people debated how many bullets they could spare.

He started toward the apartment.

"Zarek, wait."

Mara caught up with him before he reached the corridor.

"Are you leaving already?"

"Unless you need me to count bullets."

She gave him an unimpressed look. "I was going to ask whether you’ll accompany us when we collect the food."

"Why would I need to?"

"Because you came with me to negotiate, and having you there might discourage anyone from trying to change the terms at the last moment."

"If you think they’ll try something, bring enough people to handle it. I’m not going to stand beside you every time you need to trade supplies."

"I’m not asking you to do that every time."

"Then you shouldn’t have a problem handling this one yourself."

Mara gave him an irritated look. "Fine. I’ll arrange the exchange."

He continued toward the apartment, leaving Mara to return to the survivors and their growing list of concerns.

When Zarek entered the apartment, Elsa and Ayesha were there, occupying themselves with their own routines. Both had grown accustomed to spending their time training and recovering between hunts, and neither seemed particularly surprised to see him return.

"You’re back," Elsa said.

"Obviously."

She gave him a brief, annoyed look before returning to what she had been doing. Ayesha, meanwhile, asked whether anything interesting had happened upstairs.

"Nothing worth fighting over," Zarek replied as he settled down. "Mara managed to negotiate a food trade. That should keep her people going for a little while."

"That’s good," Ayesha said. "They’ve been looking worse every day."

"Then they’ll have something to look forward to."

Ayesha wasn’t sure what to make of his response, but she let the subject drop.

The conversation turned to their next training session, and Zarek began considering what he wanted them to work on.

After discussion, Elsa and Ayesha returned to their own activities. While Zarek’s thoughts drifting back to the thirtieth floor.

The old man had caught his attention. His offer had been deliberate, and Zarek doubted he would have promised information so confidently without having something worth sharing.

But what exactly did he know? The strange people with dark veins were an obvious possibility. Zarek had noticed several of them among the upper-floor survivors, and he still had no idea what was happening to their bodies.

Still, he had no intention of walking into the old man’s territory without knowing more about the people controlling it.

Their weapons suggested preparation, while the strange veins on some of their bodies hinted at something he hadn’t encountered before. He could return and hear the old man out, but there was no reason to reveal his interest too soon.

There was also the question of how much the old man knew about him.

He had noticed Zarek’s strength almost immediately, which meant he was either unusually observant or had access to information Zarek didn’t possess. Either possibility was worth investigating.

Zarek had survived this long by paying attention to things that didn’t fit. He wasn’t about to ignore a man who seemed to know more than he should, especially when that knowledge might give him an advantage in the days ahead.

If the old man had something worth knowing, Zarek would get it out of him.

Whether through conversation or force, the answer would be his.