‘She's asleep.’ Lucas gazes at her peaceful slumber, pondering over her words. ‘The version of me in Lucy's mind seems to have more significance than I realized.’
They've spent countless days together, yet their relationship hadn't truly bridged the gap between them. That's how Lucas had perceived it, at least. ‘It's almost like we're colleagues,’ he muses, a twist of irony in his mind. Of course, their ‘collaboration’ involves traversing a world infested with zombies, where danger could strike at any moment.
Gathering the discarded chocolate bar wrapper and empty water bottle from the floor, Lucas neatly stashes them in his pouch. As revolting as it is, he understands that it's the most practical way to manage waste in their current circumstances. Besides, they're just disposable items, a far cry from the precious resources they scavenge for.
With each bottle he collects, the wetness on the floor is a poignant reminder. This isn't the first time he's felt this dampness underfoot, the other occasion being by the room's entrance. The reason behind it remains uncertain—perhaps Lucy's yearning for her parents played a part. He doesn't pry, respecting her privacy.
Once he's tidied up, his attention falls on the abandoned shirt and skirt haphazardly arranged in a corner. A rare sight, he thinks, as he recalls Lucy's preference for pants and jeans. “Must've been uncomfortable wearing them day after day,” he reflects, piecing together her choices in attire.
Returning to her bedside, he observes her swollen eyes and damp hair. She must've expended quite a bit of emotion to clean her face within the room, bypassing the bathroom. Was it an urgent need to cleanse herself of the remnants of her ordeal?
Shaking off his train of thought, Lucas eases himself onto the floor, leaning against the bed to avoid disturbing her rest. Retrieving his phone, he opens the Sudoku app, a simple distraction in the absence of other tasks.
“Hah,” he sighs, a hint of frustration in his voice. “This is so tough.” He grumbles as he tackles a higher level, spending nearly half an hour on a single puzzle. The higher the level, the more intricate the challenge becomes—a parallel to the ever-intensifying threats in their world.
As he navigates the digital puzzle, he can't help but think of the gaunt, pale ghoul and the foreboding black structure they encountered. Uncertainty lingers—when will the influx of new challenges cease? Moreover, how will they manage the growing strength of zombies and the menacing mutated creatures lurking in lakes, rivers, and mountains?
Resting his head on the bed mattress while still leaning against it, Lucas finds himself pondering Lucy's words once more. He contemplates whether he truly qualifies as a decent person.
While it's common sense to be prudent and withhold information when the situation requires it – which is why he hasn't mentioned the ghoul and the building he discovered – Lucy's description of him as a decent person lingers in his thoughts. What does she mean by that? He struggles to find examples that match this description.
Lucas's internal reflection is interrupted as the time reaches 7:00 p.m., a customary dinner hour he learned of from his conversations with Kell. With Lucy peacefully asleep, he decides to leave her be, allowing her more rest. Navigating the corridors, he makes his way to the kitchen. Although the space is shared by many, the layout of their base consists of multiple buildings within the same vicinity, each with its distinct group of residents and kitchen.
Upon arriving at the kitchen, he notices around twenty people present, with a higher male-to-female ratio. Finding an available spot, he sits down and is soon served a bowl of porridge and some meat by a woman who appears to be in her thirties. The relative abundance of their meal surprises him, given the scarcity of resources in the current world. Canned goods, let alone rice, are increasingly hard to come by. The luxury of porridge, which is simply rice boiled with water and seasoning, is at risk of disappearing as well.
“Young man, where's your sister?” inquires the middle-aged woman who served him, prompting Lucas to wonder if Lucy is acquainted with her.
“My sister is still sleeping. She had nightmares last night, so she hasn't slept well. We're new here, after all,” Lucas replies, realizing that his response isn't entirely fabricated. Lucy did seem to have a distressing experience, causing her to cry and ultimately sleep.
The woman nods, taking a seat beside him. “The spot you're sitting in is the same one your sister occupied this morning.”
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Lucas raises an eyebrow in surprise at this revelation, setting down his spoon. “That's quite unexpected.”
Savoring a spoonful of porridge, he muses about the skilled cook behind this dish. While porridge might not be his personal favorite, he acknowledges the culinary expertise that went into preparing it.
Suddenly, a piercing scream shatters the calm. Lucas instinctively shifts his gaze toward the source of the sound. In an era where noise can attract dangerous attention, he notices the crowd's reaction as people rise and move toward the disturbance.
Lucas, however, remains seated, and the middle-aged woman beside him does the same, seemingly unflustered. Turning towards her, he initiates a conversation. “May I know your name, ma'am?”
The woman beside him averts her gaze from the commotion, shifting her focus between Lucas and her porridge. “My name's Edith. Didn't your sister mention me? We met this morning. She's a remarkable young woman. This world can be brutal, can't it? Unforgiving to all of us.”
Despite the sadness evident in her smile, Lucas feels ill-equipped to console someone of her age. He's barely lived half the life she has. “No, she didn't mention you. She was already asleep when I got back,” Lucas explains, absentmindedly shaking his head as he contemplates who could have screamed so recklessly.
Finishing his final spoonful of porridge, Lucas turns his attention towards the people returning from the source of the scream. Their expressions are etched with worry and contemplation.
“Edith, Bruce is dead,” one of them informs.
“The arrogant one?” Edith responds, her tone carrying a hint of nonchalance.
“Yes, he was murdered.”
“That happened sooner than I expected,” Edith remarks, her words piquing Lucas's curiosity. He raises an eyebrow, puzzled by the situation. Edith simply grins and resumes her meal, enjoying a mouthful of meat.
However, the gravity of the situation becomes evident when another individual asserts, “Edith, this isn't a joke. We have a murderer among us.”
The man appraises Lucas with a glance before addressing the group. “All of you, come with me. I have questions.”
Lucas nods and rises from his seat; his food having been consumed. Following the others without hesitation, he's led to a nearby room within the building. As he walks, he muses about the peculiar depth of the house's construction.
Curiosity tugs at him, and he inquires, “Edith, who is Bruce?”
Edith offers an explanation, “You probably don't know. He's William's half-brother.”
Silently contemplating this new information, Lucas enters the room, where William is fixated on his brother's lifeless body. Lucas finds himself largely unfazed by corpses and the act of killing now, a result of the horrors he's witnessed, such as the blood-soaked scene at the hotel.
The corpse on the ground lies nude, with pants draped over his head. A small hole mars his forehead, and a deeper puncture marks his left chest. Surrounding him is a pool of blood and a viscous yellow substance, creating a gruesome tableau.
Turning his head away, Lucas hears retching sounds, and he watches as several individuals exit the room, overwhelmed by the sight. Among those left behind are Edith, William, and a handful of others. Among this group, four people are visibly struggling to hold back their nausea, as evidenced by their heaving bodies.
William's already grim expression twists further into disgust. “Edith, can you fill me in on what transpired while I was away?”
Edith, her tone edged with skepticism, retorts, “Are you implying I had a hand in this?”
His gaze intensifies, and William fixes his eyes on Edith. “Who else should I consider? Among those present, you harbored the most disdain for him, openly, no less.
“So what? You believe I'm capable of murder?”
“Who can tell? Perhaps you're a wolf in sheep's clothing. You've shown nothing but animosity towards him since your first encounter.”
“William! Your brother harassed me, grabbing my rear the first time we met. Should I have just ignored it? He did it while I was taking orders, and if not for my association with you, I would've had him fired from his job the moment he started. He's harassed countless customers. Maybe it's his damn karma catching up with him! That bastard should've met his end long ago!”
“Edith!” William's shout reverberates with anger as he locks eyes with Edith. To Lucas's surprise, the kindly woman he'd met was this assertive in a confrontation. In truth, she doesn't seem the least bit intimidated.
Remaining in the background like a spectator, Lucas listens attentively as their verbal sparring unfolds, occasionally checking on those affected by nausea.
Their pallid faces and drained countenances suggest they're far from well. Some appear so ashen that Lucas could mistake them for ghouls.
As the verbal altercation persists, Lucas's attention shifts back to the lifeless body on the floor. His gaze lowers briefly before the sound of approaching footsteps catches his ears.