"No," he said, shaking his head. He turned back to the microphone, his voice coming out steady. "I'm not letting you in. But I'm also not going to kill you—unless you give me a reason to."
The man who had been yelling earlier cursed under his breath, his fists clenching tighter. "You selfish prick," he muttered. "You'd let people die out here while you sit nice and cozy in there?"
Daniel's eyes flicked over the group, his gaze narrowing on the angry man. He could see the raw desperation there, the anger of someone who had lost too much, who had nothing left to lose.
The woman spoke again, her voice trembling. "Please. We have a child with us," she said, her voice breaking slightly. "She's just a kid. She won't survive out here."
Daniel's stomach twisted at her words, and he hesitated, his finger hovering over the microphone button. A child. He hadn't seen any signs of a child in the feed, but the possibility made his resolve waver.
"Where is the child?" Daniel asked, his voice hard, challenging. "Show me."
The woman turned, gesturing behind her. One of the figures stepped forward, bending down to lift a small bundle. The figure unwrapped part of the cloth to reveal a young girl—her face pale, her eyes wide with fear. She was shivering, her lips blue, her small hands clutching the fabric wrapped around her.
Daniel felt something twist inside him, a pang of guilt and empathy. He didn't want to be responsible for a child's death. He didn't want that on his conscience. But he also knew the risks of letting them in, of trusting people he didn't know.
Claire leaned in again, her voice a whisper. "It's a trick. They're using the kid to get to you. You know that, right? You can't trust Brad too. He's a douche - all he's good at is leeching off of others."
Daniel smirked. "I understand the kid, but maybe you're a little hard on your ex?"
Claire's jaws locked.
Daniel rolled his eyes, turning his attention on the screen. He didn't know. Maybe she was right. Maybe it was a trick. Or maybe it was exactly what it looked like—a desperate group of people trying to survive, doing whatever they could to protect the ones they loved.
He was about to press on the electrocute button, but then a flash appeared inside his head. A memory. Four words.
'We're all we've got.'
He took a deep breath, his voice coming out steady as he spoke into the microphone again. "I'll give you supplies. Food, water—enough to last you a few days. But you're not coming in. If you try anything, if you make a move toward this place, I'll end you. Do you understand?"
The man holding the child nodded, his eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and exhaustion. "Thank you," he said, his voice barely audible.
The angry man, Brad, let out another string of curses, but he didn't step forward again. He just shook his head, his body tense, his face twisted with rage.
Daniel glanced at Claire, her eyes still fixed on the screen, her expression hard. He could see the tension in her jaw, the way her fingers twitched, as if itching for a fight.
"Let me get the supplies," Daniel said, standing up. "Keep an eye on them."
Claire nodded, her eyes never leaving the screen. "If they make one wrong move, I'll take care of it," she said, her voice cold.
Daniel carried the crate with steady hands, the weight familiar yet different, because he knew what it represented. It wasn't just supplies—these were lifelines, things that meant hope or survival for people out there who were desperate, who hadn't prepared like he had.
He could place it in his Inventory, but he didn't want Claire to know about that skill just yet.
Part of him wanted to cling to everything he had, to shut out the world, to ignore the pleading voices. But another part, buried deep and unwilling to die, reminded him that he was still human, still capable of compassion.
He made his way back up the stairs to the front entrance. Claire's figure was still by the screens, her eyes never leaving the feed. There was something cold in her gaze that sent a shiver down Daniel's spine—a dangerous calm that seemed ready to crack at any moment. She had been watching Brad, the way he looked at Daniel, the subtle aggression in his movements. She could see it, sense it, and it made her fingers twitch.
"Are you sure about this?" she asked, her voice sharp, almost challenging.
"Yeah," Daniel said, his jaw set. "They get a chance, but that's it."
Claire let out a soft scoff, her lips curving upward slightly. "You're too good sometimes, you know that?" She turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting his. There was something almost playful in her expression, but it was edged with something darker. "Just remember, Daniel... not everyone deserves saving."
Daniel met her gaze, his eyes steady. "Trust me. I know." He shook his head, trying to forget the words in his mind.
After wearing the thickest jacket and pants that were literally scientific-grade, he stepped out, bracing himself against the bitter cold as he approached the gate. The wind was biting, the kind that found its way into your bones and refused to leave. The child's face flashed in his mind again, the look of desperation etched into her wide eyes, and he forced himself to take one more step.
Daniel set the crate down just inside the electric fence, then activated the speaker again. The wind bit at his skin, and his breath came out in visible puffs, each exhale hanging in the frigid air before vanishing.
"I've left some supplies," Daniel said, his voice trembling slightly from the cold despite his attempt to remain calm. "Enough to get you to the next town if you're smart about it."
The woman nodded, her teeth chattering. Her eyes were brimming with tears, and her cheeks were red from the cold, her lips cracked and blue. "Thank you," she managed, her voice shaky. "Really, thank you."
She took a hesitant step forward, her movements stiff from the freezing temperatures. But Brad grabbed her arm, jerking her back roughly. His own face was pale, his nose red, his breath coming out in harsh, visible clouds. He glared at Daniel, his lips twisted in disdain, his entire body trembling—not just from anger, but from the bitter cold that had seeped into his bones.
"You think this makes it okay?" Brad spat, his voice filled with venom and frustration. He sounded like he was struggling to speak through his chattering teeth. "This isn't enough. Not after what you've done."
Daniel met Brad's glare, feeling the wind whip at his face, the cold air cutting through his clothes despite their thickness. He knew Brad's anger, understood it even. But he couldn't afford to let guilt cloud his judgment—not when it could cost him everything.
"It's what I'm willing to give," Daniel replied, his voice calm but his jaw clenched against the cold. "Take it or leave it."