Age of zombies

[29] Toll brothers

We drove for what felt like hours, the miles passing slowly as the sun crept higher in the sky. The landscape had changed as we moved north, the air cooler, the scenery a mix of towering trees and open fields, but the tension in the truck hadn't gone away. We all knew the dangers that lay ahead, and none of us spoke much. Just the quiet hum of the engine and the occasional grunt from Ethan as he shifted in his seat.

As we approached Plymouth, the road narrowed, leading toward a bridge that stretched over a wide river. The water below was dark and slow-moving, the kind of river that could swallow anything that fell into it without a trace. The bridge itself was old, with rusted metal beams and cracked pavement, but it wasn't the condition of the bridge that caught my attention.

It was the barricade.

A chain of iron spikes and wooden planks blocked the entrance to the bridge, forming a makeshift wall. Old tires, scraps of metal, and even broken cars were stacked on either side, making it impossible to get through without confronting whoever had set it up. And standing in front of it, with rifles slung over their shoulders, were two men.

They were dressed in ragged clothes—dirty jeans, leather vests, and boots caked with mud. Both of them were rough-looking, with scruffy beards and the kind of lean, wiry muscle that came from living hard. They didn't look like much at first glance, but the way they stood, confident and unbothered, told me they'd been through enough to know how to handle themselves.

Daisy slowed the truck as we approached, her eyes narrowing. "Shit... what now?"

"Looks like we've got company," Ethan muttered from the backseat, sitting up straighter.

The men watched us carefully as we pulled to a stop in front of the barricade, their rifles now resting casually in their hands, but ready. One of them, the taller of the two, stepped forward with a smirk.

"Well, well," he drawled, his voice thick with an accent I couldn't quite place. "Look what we got here. Fresh meat."

I could feel my pulse quicken as I glanced at Daisy. Her jaw was set, her eyes sharp as she turned off the engine. "Stay calm," she muttered, her hand resting on the grip of her rifle. "We don't know how this is gonna go."

I nodded, gripping the door handle tightly. "Let's see what they want."

We climbed out of the truck slowly, hands visible, trying not to give them any reason to start shooting. Yabe stayed close to me, her body tense with fear, while Ethan followed suit, his hand hovering near the knife tucked into his belt.

The second man, shorter but stockier, sauntered over to join his brother, a twisted grin spreading across his face as he looked us over. "Well, ain't this a sight. Couple of boys and... two fine-looking ladies."

My stomach turned at the way his eyes lingered on Yabe and Daisy. This wasn't good.

"What do you want?" Daisy asked, her voice calm but firm.

The taller one—who I now realized had to be the leader—spat on the ground and pointed a thumb at the barricade behind him. "See, this here's our bridge. Ain't nobody crossing without paying the toll."

"Toll?" Ethan scoffed, crossing his arms. "And what exactly is the toll?"

The man grinned, showing off yellowed teeth. "Half your supplies. Food, water, whatever you got in the back of that truck."

Daisy let out a slow breath, but before she could say anything, the shorter brother cut in, his grin widening. "Or... if you ain't willing to part with your goods, we've got another offer. We each get to have some fun with the ladies."

I felt my blood run cold. Yabe's grip on my arm tightened, and I could feel the fear radiating from her. Daisy's face was stone, her hand still resting on her rifle, but I could see the tension in her shoulders.

"You're out of your fking mind," I growled, taking a step forward.

The taller brother raised his rifle slightly, his grin never faltering. "Easy there, tough guy. You don't wanna make this harder than it has to be."

Ethan stepped up beside me, his voice low but dangerous. "You're not touching them. Over my dead body."

The shorter brother chuckled, clearly enjoying the situation. "That can be arranged, kid."

I glanced at Daisy, my mind racing. We were outnumbered, and they had the high ground. The barricade behind them was solid, and even if we tried to make a break for it, they could shoot out the tires before we made it halfway across the bridge. This wasn't just a shake-down. These guys were dangerous.

Daisy spoke next, her voice calm but icy. "Look, we're not giving you shit. Not our supplies, not the women. So how about you move that barricade, and we'll be on our way. No one has to get hurt."

The taller brother let out a low whistle, clearly impressed by her nerve. "You got balls, lady, I'll give you that. But you're in our territory now. You don't make the rules."

He took a step closer, his rifle still raised. "Last chance. Half your supplies, or we take what we want."

The tension in the air was thick, everyone waiting for the next move. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, my hand itching to reach for the gun I had stashed in the truck, but I knew if we made the first move, this would turn into a bloodbath.

Yabe clung to my arm, her voice a soft whisper. "Senpai..."

I squeezed her hand, trying to keep her calm, though inside I was anything but. "Stay behind me."

Ethan's knuckles were white as he clenched his fists. "This is bullshit. We can't let them—"

Daisy cut him off with a sharp look. "Hold your ground, but don't do anything stupid."

The brothers watched us, their eyes gleaming with anticipation. They were waiting for us to break, to give in. But I could see the flicker of uncertainty in the taller one's eyes. He didn't expect Daisy to stand her ground like this.

"We're not handing over anything," I said, my voice steady but firm. "And you sure as hell aren't touching the women. So what's it gonna be?"

For a moment, the only sound was the wind rustling through the trees and the distant murmur of the river below. The two men exchanged a glance, and I could see the wheels turning in their heads, trying to decide whether we were worth the fight.

The taller brother grinned, but there was a tension behind it now. "Looks like we got ourselves a standoff."

Daisy's hand tightened on her rifle. "Looks like it."

And just like that, we were locked in a deadly game of who would make the first move.

Q: What would you do in this situation?