Harem in a zombie apocalypse

[51] Test

"Follow me." he said.

The chief rose from his seat, his dark eyes still filled with a guarded curiosity. As he motioned me to follow him, my heart pounded heavily in my chest. I knew what I was saying was true; I had experienced it countless times before. But demonstrating it now, in front of skeptical eyes, was a daunting task.

The chief led me across a dusty courtyard, beneath the star-studded night sky. A few onlookers, fellow captives or perhaps locals, followed us with their eyes, their expressions revealing their own disbelief, curiosity, and fear.

We eventually arrived at a sturdy, isolated shed at the edge of the settlement. The chief turned to me, his gaze steady, and opened the door. A gut-wrenching smell immediately filled my nostrils, a mixture of decay and something metallic, like blood. Suppressing a gag, I took a deep breath and stepped inside.

Chained to a concrete block in the corner was a lone zombie. Its milky white eyes stared blankly at the wall, its jaw opening and closing in a slow, steady rhythm. The sight was chilling, but not unexpected.

The chief kept a safe distance, observing me and the zombie with the intensity of a hawk. "When a living man approaches it, it reacts. Now you approach it." His voice echoed through the shed, breaking the eerie silence. I nodded, steeling myself for what was to come.

Walking towards the creature, I remembered my previous encounters with zombies. How they would ignore me, their glassy eyes seemingly looking through me, their rotten teeth snapping at the air where I was not. Remembering this, I stepped closer.

The chained zombie remained still. Its eyes didn't flicker towards me, it made no move to attack, it simply continued its mindless staring and gnashing. I was close enough now to reach out and touch it, yet it didn't react.

The silence in the shed was palpable. The chief's eyes were wide, his jaw slightly agape as he watched the scene unfold. I dared to glance back at him, hoping my point had been made clear.

"I told you, they ignore me." My voice echoed throughout the shed. The chief remained silent, his eyes darting between me and the docile zombie. I could see the gears turning in his head, the disbelief slowly fading away.

My claim was proven true. The zombie, a creature designed to crave human flesh, showed no interest in me. The question now was, would the chief honor his word? Would he see my unique condition as a benefit for his tribe or would he perceive me as a threat? Only time would tell.

The chief took a step back, a puzzled frown marking his worn features. His gaze kept shifting between me and the zombie, which continued to act as though I wasn't there. After what felt like an eternity, he finally broke the silence.

"Alright, you've proven your point." He acknowledged, shaking his head slightly in disbelief. "You're different, but that doesn't guarantee your freedom."

I held my breath, waiting for the terms of his next proposition.

"I have a mission for you." He declared, crossing his arms over his chest. "Pocatello, it's a city a day's drive from here. It used to be a lively place before the outbreak, full of people, shops, restaurants... and taverns."

His voice became distant, a hint of longing creeping into his tone. "We're running out of spirits here. They help to keep the morale up and make the long nights bearable."

"You want me to bring back booze from Pocatello?" I asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

He nodded. "As much as you can carry. We have trucks you can use. You've shown us that the undead won't bother you, which gives you a unique advantage in this."