After dropping that bombshell revelation on Rachel, I knew she needed time to process everything I'd just told her. The weight of learning that she was now a target, that her very existence put others at risk, that the zombie apocalypse wasn't some random disaster but a calculated act of war by an alien species—it was enough to break anyone's mind if they tried to absorb it all at once.
So I gave her space, turning my attention to methodically searching through the convenience store's remaining inventory.
The store had been picked over pretty thoroughly, as I'd expected. Still, people often overlooked smaller items or things they didn't immediately recognize as valuable.
Behind the counter, I found a plastic lighter tucked into a small display box that had fallen behind the register. The flame was strong and steady when I tested it—a small victory. It could be useful.
