Day 57: Escort
The morning light was dim, casting long shadows through the cracks in the museum's boarded-up windows. The group had barely slept, their minds consumed by the decision they had made the day before. Today was the day they were supposed to deliver their first "tax" to the Black Fangs, and the weight of that choice hung heavily over them.
Luke, Derek, Cass, Blake, Sarah, and Sara gathered near the entrance, their nerves taut. They had packed a small portion of their supplies—just enough to meet the demand without crippling their own chances of survival. Every can of food, every bullet, and every bandage felt like a sacrifice they couldn't afford to make.
Jay, Mae, Dom, Raya, and Ben joined them in the entrance hall, adding to the already tense atmosphere. Even Ben, usually kept away from the more dangerous tasks, sensed the gravity of the situation and stayed close to Raya, his small face set in a determined frown.
"We need to stick together," Jay said, his voice low and serious. As a former mechanic, he was used to fixing things, but this situation was far beyond his expertise. He exchanged a look with Mae, who had always been the voice of calm in the group.
Mae nodded in agreement, her nurse's instincts kicking in. "If anything happens, we stay close and protect each other. No one gets left behind."
Dom, ever the quiet observer, tightened his grip on the bat he carried. As a former security guard, he knew the importance of vigilance. "We don't know what we're walking into, so keep your eyes open and stay alert."
Raya, always steady in the face of danger, placed a comforting hand on Ben's shoulder. "Stay close to me, Ben. We'll be okay."
Ben nodded, looking up at her with wide eyes. "I'm ready," he said, trying to sound braver than he felt.
As the group approached the door, their usual routine was shattered by an unexpected sight. About fifty feet from the museum's entrance, the same man from the day before stood, his presence unnervingly calm. He was tall, with a lean build, dressed in ragged clothing that still bore the marks of a once-decent life. His expression was composed, almost too much so, as if he had no doubt about the outcome of this encounter.
"I see you're ready," the man said, his voice calm and confident. His eyes flicked over the group, assessing them with cold precision. "Good. Follow me."
Luke narrowed his eyes but nodded, gesturing for the others to stay close. "Lead the way."
The man's lips curled into a thin smile. "I know you'll make the right choice," he said cryptically before turning on his heel and walking briskly ahead.
The group followed, their steps echoing in the eerie quiet of the abandoned streets. The man moved with surprising speed, his long strides carrying him effortlessly through the rubble and debris. Despite his quick pace, he never looked back, as if certain they would follow without question.
As they walked, the tension in the air grew thicker. The city around them was silent—too silent—and the unease gnawed at their nerves. They kept their weapons close, eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of danger. Their path took them through areas where the ground was marred with patches of deadly flora—plants that had sprouted after the last rain, their vibrant green leaves concealing a lethal nature. The plants swayed slightly in the breeze, their branches twitching as if sensing the group's presence.
"Stay away from those plants," Cass warned, her voice barely above a whisper. "We all know what they can do."
The group carefully skirted the areas where the plants had taken root, their movements deliberate and cautious. The plants seemed to pulse with an unnatural life, their branches occasionally lashing out at anything that drew too close.
Suddenly, a rustling sound broke the silence. Out of the shadows, a group of small, twisted creatures darted toward them. Their bodies were lean and sinewy, with claws that glinted in the dim light. They moved with terrifying speed, their eyes glowing with a feral hunger.
"Watch out!" Dom shouted, raising his bat to defend the group.
But before they could react, the man in front of them moved with lightning speed. In one fluid motion, he drew a long knife from his belt and slashed through the air. The blade sliced cleanly through the nearest creature, its body crumpling to the ground in a heap.
The man didn't stop there. He moved with deadly precision, cutting down the attacking creatures one by one. His movements were almost too fast to follow, a blur of steel and shadow. Within moments, the ground was littered with the bodies of the creatures, their blood pooling on the cracked pavement.
The group stood frozen, their weapons still raised, but the threat had already been neutralized. The man wiped his blade on the torn fabric of his sleeve, his expression calm as ever.
"Keep up," he said without missing a beat, as if the encounter had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience. He turned and continued walking, leaving the group to stare after him in stunned silence.
Blake was the first to speak, his voice laced with unease. "Who the hell is this guy?"
"I don't know," Sarah replied, her grip on her spear tightening. "But he's dangerous."
"Stay sharp," Luke muttered, his eyes narrowed as he watched the man's retreating figure. "We're not dealing with amateurs. The Black Fangs clearly have skilled fighters."
As the group hurried to catch up, Ben clung tightly to Raya's hand, his earlier bravado completely gone. "Raya, I'm scared," he whispered, his voice trembling.
Raya squeezed his hand reassuringly. "I know, Ben. But we'll get through this. Just stay close to me."
Mae, walking just behind them, cast a worried glance at the man who had just saved them. "What kind of people are we dealing with?"
Jay shook his head, his expression grim. "The kind that we can't afford to underestimate."
They followed the man for what felt like hours, though it was likely only minutes. The tension in the group was palpable, each of them bracing for whatever lay ahead. They continued to navigate carefully around the deadly plants, which seemed almost sentient in their movements, reaching out towards the group but never quite making contact thanks to the distance the group maintained.
Finally, the man came to a stop in front of a nondescript building, its windows shattered, the door hanging loosely on its hinges. He turned to face them, his expression unreadable.
"This is the place," he said, his voice as calm as ever. "The first payment. Don't make me wait."
Luke exchanged a tense glance with the others before stepping forward. He handed over the small bundle of supplies they had brought, his jaw clenched with the effort of keeping his emotions in check.
The man took the bundle without a word, his eyes scanning the contents with a quick, practiced glance. Satisfied, he nodded once. "You've made the right choice. You'll be contacted again for the next payment. Don't be late."
With that, he turned and disappeared into the building, leaving the group standing outside, their hearts pounding in their chests.
"Let's get out of here," Luke said, his voice low but urgent. "Before something else happens."
They quickly retraced their steps, moving with the same caution and speed as before. The tension remained, but there was also a sense of relief—they had survived the first encounter with the Black Fangs, and for now, that was enough.
As they made their way back to the museum, the group couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched, hunted even. The man's speed, his deadly efficiency, and his confidence had left an unsettling impression on them all.
Back at the museum, they gathered in the main hall, their nerves still frayed from the encounter. The memory of the deadly plants was fresh in their minds, a stark reminder of the dangers that lurked around every corner.
"We did what we had to," Luke said, trying to reassure them. "But this isn't over. We need to be ready for whatever comes next."
The others nodded, but the fear in their eyes was unmistakable. They had bought themselves some time, but at what cost? The Black Fangs were clearly more than just a gang—they were organized, dangerous, and led by people who knew exactly what they were doing.
As the group settled back into the museum, the weight of their situation pressed down on them. They had made the first payment, but the threats, the uncertainty, and the danger hadn't gone away. If anything, it had only just begun.