The air inside was oppressive, a suffocating mix of mildew, decay, and the faint metallic tang of dried blood. The mall was a shadow of what it had once been—dark, decrepit, and eerily still. Broken mannequins lay scattered across the floor, their dismembered limbs casting grotesque shadows on the walls.
Kate led the way, her steps cautious but deliberate. Chris followed close behind, scanning every corner, every darkened crevice. his rifle raised and ready. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the faint creaks of the building settling.
As they reached the first store, a convenience shop with its metal shutter halfway open, Kate paused. "This could be promising," she said softly. "Let's check it out."
Chris crouched to lift the shutter higher, the metal groaning loudly in protest. Both of them froze at the sound, their eyes darting to the shadows around them. When nothing stirred, they exhaled and slipped inside.
The store was mostly ransacked, shelves toppled and items strewn across the floor. But as they searched, they managed to find a few useful supplies: a half-full first aid kit, some canned food, and a pack of batteries.
"Better than nothing," Chris muttered, tossing the supplies into his bag. "But this isn't enough to make Morrison happy."
Kate smirked faintly. "I'm not here to make Morrison happy. I'm here to survive."
Chris chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You know, Kate, you've got a hell of a poker face. Back at the station, I couldn't tell if you were genuinely trying to join them or just playing along."
Kate glanced at him, her expression unreadable. "Maybe a bit of both. They've got resources we could use, but I'm not about to trust them blindly."
Chris nodded, his respect for her growing. "Fair enough."
Their quiet moment was interrupted by a faint noise—a soft, shuffling sound coming from deeper within the store. Both of them froze, their eyes locking.
"Walker?" Chris whispered, his grip tightening on his rifle.
Kate shook her head, her ears straining. "No. Too steady."
The sound grew louder, closer. Kate motioned for Chris to move to the side, positioning themselves on either side of the aisle. As the noise drew nearer, she raised her crowbar, her muscles tensed and ready.
A figure emerged from the shadows—a man, his clothes tattered and his face gaunt. His eyes widened when he saw them, and he raised his hands defensively.
"Don't shoot!" he croaked, his voice hoarse. "I'm not infected!"
Kate lowered her crowbar slightly, but her stance remained defensive. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"
The man swallowed hard, his gaze darting between them. "My name's Carl. I've been hiding here for days. Please, I don't mean any harm."
Chris stepped forward cautiously, his rifle still trained on the man. "We're not here to hurt anyone. But if you've been here this long, why haven't the walkers gotten to you?"
Carl gestured toward the back of the store. "I barricaded myself in the storage room. There were others… but they didn't make it. I've been running out of food."
Kate exchanged a look with Chris, her mind racing. Another survivor meant another complication—but also potential information.
"Alright, Carl," she said slowly. "You're coming with us. But no funny business. Got it?"
Carl nodded eagerly, his relief palpable. "Got it. Thank you. Thank you so much."
As they led him out of the store, Kate couldn't shake the feeling that this mission was about to get a lot more complicated.
The trio continued their trek through the shadowed labyrinth of the mall. Every step felt heavier, the air oppressive with a mixture of decay and tension. The group's dynamic was fragile, like a glass barely balanced on a table's edge.
Kate led the way, her crowbar gripped tightly in her hands, her every muscle coiled for action. Chris walked close behind, his rifle steady and eyes sweeping the dark corners. Carl lagged slightly, his uneven breathing filling the silence, but the frequent nervous glances he cast over his shoulder didn't go unnoticed by Kate.
"You need to stay focused, Carl," she said over her shoulder, keeping her voice low. "Paranoia will get you killed faster than a walker."
Carl flinched at her words but nodded. "I'm trying," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's just… hard. This place feels like it's alive. Every shadow looks like it's moving."
"It's not alive," Chris muttered. "But it's just as deadly. Keep your eyes up, not on your feet."
The group rounded a corner and entered a wide-open food court. Once a bustling hub of greasy food and laughter, it was now a graveyard of overturned chairs and shattered glass. The ceiling above was cracked, and faint beams of sunlight filtered through, casting eerie patterns across the broken floor.
Chris scanned the area, his brow furrowed. "Food courts were war zones when things went down. People probably swarmed here for food."
Kate nodded, her eyes darting toward the shadows. "And turned on each other when there wasn't enough to go around."
Carl hesitated, staring at a toppled tray cart near the remnants of a burger stand. "You think… you think anyone survived that? I mean, long enough to still be around now?"
Chris snorted, his expression grim. "If they did, you don't want to meet them. People who survive places like this…" He paused, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the debris. "... aren't the kind you want on your side."
"So, Carl," Chris began, keeping his voice low but firm. "You've been here for days. That's a long time to survive in a place like this. How'd you manage?"
Carl shifted nervously, his fingers twitching at his sides. "I… I got lucky. When I got here, most of the walkers had already moved on. I guess they followed the noise or… people. I found the storage room, locked myself in, and just waited."
"Waited for what?" Kate asked, her tone sharper than she intended.
Carl hesitated, his eyes darting between them. "For someone like you to show up. I knew I couldn't stay in there forever. I was running out of food, water. Figured it was only a matter of time before I either starved or…" He trailed off, the unspoken word hanging heavy in the air.
"Got eaten," Chris finished bluntly.
Carl flinched but nodded. "Yeah."
Kate studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable. "And the others you mentioned? What happened to them?"
Carl swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the floor. "We got split up. There were five of us when we got here—a couple, a teenager, and a guy named Brent. Things went bad fast. Brent tried to take charge, but he… he didn't know what he was doing. Walkers got the couple. The teenager, she—" His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. "She ran. I don't know if she made it."
"And Brent?" Kate pressed, her eyes narrowing.
Carl's face darkened, and he hesitated. "He tried to steal my stash of food. We fought. I… I didn't mean to, but I pushed him. He fell. Hit his head. After that, it was just me."
Chris glanced at Kate, his eyebrows raised slightly. It was a grim story, but not an unusual one in the world they now lived in. People did what they had to do to survive. The question was whether Carl's version of events was the truth—or just what he wanted them to believe.
Kate nodded slowly. "Alright, Carl. You're with us now, but here's how this works. You stay quiet, you follow our lead, and you don't make any moves without telling us first. Got it?"
"Yes, yes, of course," Carl said quickly, his head bobbing in agreement.
Chris leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a near growl. "And if we catch you pulling anything shady, if we even think you're a liability, you're on your own. No second chances."
Carl's face went pale, and he nodded again, more fervently this time. "I get it. I swear, I won't be a problem."
Kate moved to an overturned table and crouched behind it, motioning for the others to do the same. "Let's take a moment here. Get our bearings."
Chris crouched beside her, his rifle resting on his knee. "You've been quiet," he said, glancing at her. "You pick up on something?"
Kate didn't answer immediately. She stared at the far side of the food court, where a broken escalator loomed like a dark maw. "Something feels wrong," she said finally. "Like we're being herded."
Carl's head whipped toward her, his face pale. "Herded? By who? Walkers can't think like that, right?"
"Not walkers," Kate said. "People."
Chris's jaw tightened, his knuckles whitening as he gripped his rifle. "You think someone's following us?"
Kate glanced at him, her expression hard. "I don't think. I know."