Zombie survivor

[44] The boys

The men found themselves locked in a damp, dimly lit basement room. The air was thick with the smell of mildew and stale sweat, and the walls seemed to close in, cold and unforgiving. Chains hung from the ceiling, and flickering light bulbs cast a sickly glow over the dirty concrete floor. Jean, Blake, Tyler, Jordan, Evan, Luca, Trev, and Brad huddled together, each trying to make sense of their terrifying situation.

Blake, his usual calm and composed demeanor fraying at the edges, clenched his fists as he stepped forward, his voice shaking. "Where the hell are we? You can't just keep us here—this is illegal, this is... this is inhumane."

The room's heavy door creaked open, and in stepped Slippery Joe, his garish, oversized fur coat swaying as he swaggered into the room. His feathered hat cast a shadow over his sharp, twisted grin. In one hand, he held a whip, which he cracked against the wall, making the boys flinch.

Blake's face went pale as Joe approached him, his mocking grin widening. Without a word, Joe raised the whip and lashed it across Blake's chest, the sound echoing in the cramped space. Blake staggered back, clutching his chest, biting his lip to hold back a cry of pain.

Joe leaned in, his voice a low, mocking drawl. "Didn't your mama ever teach you manners, boy? Around here, you don't speak unless I say you can."

The rest of the boys shrank back, their faces tense with a mix of fear and rage. Jean clenched his fists, his eyes blazing, but he kept his mouth shut, knowing that any word would only make things worse.

Joe looked them over, his gaze running up and down the line, inspecting them like livestock. "Well, look at this ragged crew," he sneered. "Nothing special, just a bunch of scrawny little lost boys. But you'll fetch a good price... if you're worth anything."

Jordan, despite the situation, couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh, his voice wavering as he muttered, "What, are you planning to, like, sell us on some black market eBay or something?"

Joe's gaze snapped to Jordan, and he cracked the whip again, this time inches from Jordan's face. Jordan went silent, his face draining of color as he forced himself to stare straight ahead.

Joe sighed, rolling his eyes. "I don't think you kids understand the situation you're in. So, let me make it clear. You're my property now. Every one of you has a price. And if you want to stay out of trouble, you're going to tell me exactly what you're good for."

The boys exchanged nervous glances, confusion flickering across their faces. Jean took a cautious step forward, his voice tense but respectful. "What... what do you mean by 'what we're good for'?"

Joe snorted, his eyes narrowing. "I mean, tell me what you're good at. Skills. Strengths. Anything that would make you worth more than the sorry scraps you look like."

There was a moment of silence as the boys processed this. Then, one by one, they began to awkwardly speak up, clearly unsure of what Joe wanted but too scared to risk not answering.

Evan, swallowing nervously, raised a shaky hand. "Uh, I'm, like, really good with video games. Like, top 10% in most FPS games online."

Luca let out a weak laugh, elbowing Evan with a smirk. "Bruh, you're bragging about your K/D ratio right now? Really?"

Evan's face went red, but he shrugged. "I mean... it's something, right?"

Joe's expression darkened, and he clenched his jaw, clearly unimpressed. "Next."

Jordan, sensing the tension, forced a laugh and gave a small wave. "Uh, yeah, I'm pretty much the funniest guy you'll ever meet. I can, like, keep morale up or something? Crack a joke when things get too real?"