With a thought, Raven and Alara appeared on the upper level of the mall, the dim light showing through cracked skylights above, the air stale and heavy. Raven gripped her Beretta tightly, scanning the wide-open space around her, her eyes narrowing as she swept them across shattered storefronts and abandoned kiosks. Alara stood beside her, wide-eyed and still, waiting for Raven's lead. The silence stretched on just like the shuffle of the dead. Raven's gaze swept over the slow-moving forms of the zombies in the distance.
"The ghost is clear," she said under her breath, her shoulders relaxing slightly, no sign of more humans around.
Raven spotted a small pile of prepackaged snacks—half-smashed granola bars, some dented cans of fruit cocktail in sauce, and a few half-squashed protein bars. She gathered the least damaged, sending them to her system space. Then she turned to Alara, sending a mental command to follow her. Alara trailed her like a quiet shadow, her red eyes watching, her presence ignored by the other zombies. They moved past her like she was nothing more than another piece of broken furniture.
Ahead, Raven caught sight of five idle zombies wandering in slow, aimless circles at the entrance of a darkened store. Their uniforms matched: teal polos, white aprons, and absurd plastic cone hats topped with fake ice cream. Raven's lips twitched. "Goddamn idiots. What a way to go wearing shit uniforms like that. They died without any dignity at all."
She shot her Beretta, as five shots rang out pew pew pew pew pew. Five headshots resulted in five bodies falling to the ground.
Raven approached them, putting away her gun and calling out her combat knife from the System Space. With practiced ease, she carved into the back of each skull, extracting the small, pea-sized nucleus cores, red and dark. Alara watched silently, eyes shining, her mouth slightly open ready for a meal.
Raven held up the first core, arching an eyebrow. "You must've been a rich, spoiled woman once upon a time, Alara," she said, her voice happy and amused. Alara made no sound, just waited, mouth opening wider in expectation.
Raven placed the core gently on her tongue. Alara swallowed. A subtle ripple moved through their bond, a flash of warmth as the core worked its way through Alara's body. Raven could feel the faint signs of change as Alara's body finally fully healed.
As she fed her the second core, Raven deployed her drones from her backpack, sending them into the dark rafters above her to patrol silently. The quiet sound of their fans could not even be heard by human ears. They settled in the dark ceeling like ready snipers.
Raven was about to feed Alara the third core when a movement caught her attention. Three women emerged from the store where the zombies were circling. Unwashed, malnourished, hair greasy and tangled. Raven could smell them from here—sweat, fear, and the faint rot of desperation. She arched a brow. "Today's January 20th… damn. Two weeks in, and people already smell like a graveyard."
The lead woman, a stout, heavyset figure with a stained shirt dusted in bright orange cheese powder, smiled at Raven like a wolf eyeing fresh meat.
"Who the hell are you?" the woman asked. "This is our turf. Other teams know better. How many more do I have to kill to teach you people a lesson?"
Her gaze lingered on Raven, dark and hungry. "You're a little hottie, aren't you? Why don't you and your friend come join me and my girls? I'll keep you safe from the big, bad men. They don't have to know you're with us."
Raven kept feeding Alara, her eyes never leaving the woman. Alara swallowed her third core with a shudder, her body shifting slightly with excitement.
One of the women behind their leader a skinny, hollow-cheeked woman with eyes wide in fear, whispered, "Momma Jean, you said no more strays."
Momma Jean's head moved back as she yelled. "Shut up, bitch. I decide who joins this gang."
Momma Jean turned back to Raven, her lips curling into a greasy smile. "So? How about it? You two look good enough to eat. Why dont you join us? The police and military have pulled out of New York, so there is no law and order anymore."
Raven's voice was calm, almost bored. "My name's Raven. And I have no interest in joining anyone who calls themselves 'Momma.'"
The woman stiffened, but Raven moved her head slightly in curiosity. "You said the police and military have pulled out of New York?"
Momma Jean let out a humorless laugh, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Yeah. They pulled out three days ago, headed for the suburbs. Said they were easier to defend. They want to build 'bases,' as they call it. They act like this is some kind of goddamn novel."
Her tone softened slightly, a grudging respect bleeding through. "Sorry if we came off rude. Can't trust anyone these days. We've already lost girls to other groups in this hellhole. The second the law vanished, women like us? We become prey."
Her gaze hardened again. "But the kids—they're safe. That group calling themselves, the Light House? They've been taking them in. Armed to the teeth. Organized. But for the rest of us…"
Her voice trailed off, her shoulders sagging under the weight of reality.
Raven stayed silent, taking it all in. Her eyes moved to Alara, who stared at her with wide, trusting eyes, waiting for the next command.
Raven looked back to Momma Jean as she said to her.
"Tell me more."
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