Feral → newt, tmr

Chapter 21: Drunken Kisses

Brenda stops abruptly by a nearby trash dumpster, her hand trembling as she pulls off a strip of cloth from her sleeve. The pain is sharp, burning, and when she glances down, she sees the dark, jagged teeth marks of the Gone Crank. Blood seeps sluggishly from the wound, soaking the fabric beneath her fingertips.

“Shit. Brenda…” Thomas trails off, his gaze fixated on the bite, his worry thick and unrelenting.

“It looks worse,” Katherine murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper, her own worry mingling with the fear that churns in her stomach.

“Yeah, yeah. I know,” Brenda snaps, covering the wound with the cloth. Her hands are steady, but her voice trembles. “Let’s just go find Marcus.”

They don’t argue. They can’t afford to. The twins follow, their footsteps heavy with exhaustion and dread. They make their way through the city, the air thick with the faint, acrid scent of death. The streets are eerily quiet, except for the occasional distant moans of Cranks echoing in the distance. They pass by groups of non-infected, healthy-looking people moving in aimless patterns—survivors who seem to have accepted the new world they inhabit.

“Try to blend in,” Brenda mutters, her voice low and steady. Her gaze flicks across the group ahead, her body tense, ready to react at a moment’s notice.

They walk forward, heads down, eyes cast low, blending into the sea of wandering figures. Finally, they come to a large white building, its once-bright facade now faded and cracked.

“Are you sure this is the place?” Thomas asks, his voice edged with doubt.

Brenda doesn’t answer right away. She just stops, staring at the building, her stomach knotting tighter by the second. Then, out of the silence, a voice cuts through the air—calm, measured, and unfamiliar.

“You here for the party?”

Katherine glances over her shoulder and stiffens at the sight of a tall, blonde woman approaching. Her icy blue eyes are sharp, and the cold intensity in her gaze makes Katherine shiver. The woman’s gaze lingers on her, as if she’s seeing right through her, reading her in a way that makes Katherine feel exposed.

“No. We’re looking for Marcus,” Brenda answers, her tone firm despite the unease rippling beneath the surface.

“This is his place, isn’t it?”

The woman tilts her head slightly, the corners of her lips curving into a faint, knowing smile. She says nothing, simply standing there, studying them. Then, as if bored by the silence, she steps aside, revealing someone else behind them—a man, middle-aged, with blond hair and a suit that looks almost too clean for the world around them.

“Are you Marcus?” Thomas asks, his voice sharp, demanding.

Marcus, or whoever this man is, raises a brow and shakes his head. “Marcus doesn’t live here anymore.” His voice is calm, controlled.

Katherine narrows her eyes, stepping closer. “Do you know where we can find him?”

The man’s lips curl into a faint smirk. “Sure, sure. He’s over in Zone B.”

Thomas and Katherine exchange a glance. The words weigh heavily on them.

“Okay. What’s Zone B?” Thomas asks, his voice low, his jaw tight.