The Boss Is Dead

Chp: 14 The stranger

The poor stranger lay panting on the cracked asphalt just inside the gate, clutching a bloody wound on his leg. It looked bad. Through the din of battle outside, Ben surveyed their mysterious guest.

He appeared around 40, dressed in filthy hiking clothes worn to rags. Grime and beard stubble were covering his any defining features. Though a tired intelligence glinted in his sunken eyes. Clearly he'd endured much to reach this point. As medics Dana and Joel hurried over to assess the wound, Ben noticed no telltale signs of infection. So perhaps he brought them a living visitor, not an undead one.

"Thank you...for saving me man," the man gasped between pained breaths. "Thought I was a goner for sure back there." He closed his eyes wearily as Dana cut away his jeans to expose the gash.

"Just doing what any decent folk would," replied calm and collected Dana, who somehow stayed serene even during a crisis. She was the exact opposite of Greg, he thought, prone to hysterics at the first sign of danger. Once he fainted clean away just from seeing a spider. But Greg's anxiety only started after they got to this camp. It began when he got froze - unable to shoot his friend, Jason. Yes, it started that night. It would take some time for him to get through that and Greg will.

As Dana cleaned and dressed the wound, Joel monitored any vital signs of being infected. "No bite marks or fever... looks like just an ordinary cut," he declared. Their new friend breathed an audible sigh of relief. After weeks stranded alone, a small mercy was surely welcomed.

Meanwhile outside, Greg and Jake continued to battle with flagging spirits but impressively, as zombies converged from every crumbling side street. Despite his anxious new nature, Greg proved surprisingly handy in a pinch, shouting strategic suggestions to Jake as he reloaded again and again.

We all rise to challenges in our own time and way.

With the medics' OK, Ben helped haul their guest within the chain link perimeter to a cot, exchanging a few details during transport. "Name's Eli...been wandering for miles since my group got overrun," he panted between pained grunts. A soldier through and through, he stoically bore his injury without outward complaint. Admirable fortitude for sure.

Once settled, Eli flashed tired smiles of gratitude all around, taking stock of their diverse band with new eyes. "Quite the crew you've assembled here... Folks from all backgrounds, banded together...gives me hope for humanity yet."

~

The morning sun rose with its usual fanfare, casting sad shadows across their post-apocalyptic encampment. Sarah awoke to the dulcet tones of Diana's snoring down the hall, a song so beautifully haunting it belonged in a horror film.

Rolling from her lumpy cot, she followed the aroma of something vaguely breakfast-esque wafting from the mess.

Amanda greeted her with her signature glare that said you better appreciate this slop or else. As usual, she was up before dawn wrangling provisions with the tenacity of a soccer mom. Sarah took her questionable helping with a shrug - after weeks of these meals, her standards had reached new lows.

Around her, the usual characters milled about in varying stages of consciousness. Greg rambled nervously to anyone within earshot, Jake shoveled food as if in a competitive eating contest, and Tom kept to himself in the corner, radiating leave me alone vibes. Just another day in paradise!

As Ben slurped his food, the latest addition to their brood hobbled in under Ben's watchful eye. Eli, their mystery survivor from last night, shuffled slowly but without complaint. His bandaged leg may have slowed him down physically, but mentally he appeared sharp as ever, taking everything in with keen interest.