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"What the hell do you people want…?"
Carl's voice barely sounded like his own anymore.
It came out rough.
Defeated.
Exhausted.
The words echoed weakly through what had once been the living room.
Now it looked more like a barracks.
Furniture had been shoved aside.
Windows had been covered.
Supplies had been stacked against walls.
People moved throughout the house.
Not survivors.
Not exactly.
Infected.
Intelligent ones.
Some sat talking.
Others sorted supplies.
A few stood guard near the entrances.
The worst part was how normal they looked.
How organized they looked.
Carl hated that more than anything.
The woman standing before him turned at his voice.
She looked almost amused.
Then she smiled.
"Boyfriend looks thirsty."
Carl immediately frowned.
Across from him, Adira tensed against the ropes binding her wrists.
The woman crouched slightly.
"Someone get this man some water."
One of the infected standing nearby immediately moved.
