The woman snorts. "What do you think? You see a grocery store around here?"
Vic, despite his position, immediately protests. "Okay, hold on! First of all, gross. Second of all—meat goes bad after a while, dumbasses! You're just asking for disease!"
The leader's gun twitches toward him. "Do I look like I care about food safety?"
Trish grips her knife tighter, her stance getting even more alert like she's a second away from making a move. I feel it too—that instinct to fight.
But then I look at the numbers. They have more weapons. More people. And Vic is still stuck in that damn trap.
I exhale, forcing myself and my voice to stay calm. "We're not looking for trouble."
The leader arches a brow.
I keep going. "Right now? We all have a bigger problem. That sound back there? The zombies ran toward it. And whatever made that noise? If it's bad enough to attract the undead, then we don't have time for this bullshit."
The woman tilts her head. "You really expect us to believe…"
