Zombie survivor

[49] Night before hell

A few minutes later, Joe stormed in, his fur coat flaring behind him like a gaudy cape, his face twisted in frustration. His usual smug grin was gone, replaced by a look of thinly veiled rage. The boys tensed, their backs pressing against the cold walls as his boots clomped against the concrete floor.

"What the fuck was that?" Joe spat, glaring at them like they'd personally ruined his day. "Seven of you, and not one of you worth more than a handful of scraps? You're supposed to be assets, not fucking dead weight!"

None of the boys dared to respond. They avoided his gaze, their breaths shallow as the tension in the room became unbearable.

Joe paced back and forth, muttering under his breath and shaking his head. "I give you a stage, a fucking opportunity, and this is how you repay me? No skills, no charm, no fucking value?" He stopped suddenly, whipping around to face them, his eyes blazing. "Do you have any idea how much shit this puts me in?"

Evan, who was sitting closest to the center of the room, flinched as Joe's gaze bore into him. Summoning the smallest shred of courage, he stammered, "Uh... s-sorry, man. W-we didn't mean to—"

Joe silenced him with a sharp crack of his whip against the floor, making Evan yelp and scoot back against the wall. "Did I say you could talk?" Joe growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You don't speak unless I ask you to."

Evan immediately clamped his mouth shut, his face pale. The other boys exchanged uneasy glances, none of them willing to say a word.

Joe took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he ran a hand over his face. When he spoke again, his tone was calmer, but no less threatening. "You know what? Doesn't matter. I'll figure something out. I always do." He gave them a cold smile, his gaze flicking over them like a predator sizing up its prey. "You'll find out soon enough."

He turned on his heel and strode out of the room, his coat swishing behind him. The sound of the door slamming shut once again left the boys in silence, the air thick with tension.

For a moment, no one spoke. Then Evan, still shaken, finally broke the silence. "What the hell do you think he means by 'figure something out'?" His voice was hushed, barely above a whisper.

Jordan leaned against the wall, shaking his head. "Bruh, I don't wanna know. That guy's nuts. Did you see how he looked at us? Like he was ready to rip our heads off."

Jean frowned, his arms crossed as he stared at the door. "He's not just pissed because we didn't sell. He's pissed because we're costing him something. He's not gonna let that slide."

Luca let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, no shit. He probably thinks we're, like, the worst inventory ever or something."

Evan sat forward, his brow furrowed. "But what does that mean for us? What's he gonna do?"

Tyler, always eager to make things more uncomfortable, leaned in with a twisted grin. "Maybe he's got some other use for us. Y'know, like... organ harvesting or some shit."

Jordan groaned, covering his face with his hands. "God, shut up, Tyler. I don't need that image right now."

Luca shot Tyler a glare. "Bro, can you not? We're already screwed. No need to make it worse."

Jean shook his head, his voice grim. "It's not impossible, though. If we're not sellable, he'll look for another way to make a profit off us."

Blake, who had been sitting silently in the corner, finally spoke up, his voice shaky. "Maybe... maybe he'll try to sell us off as workers or something. Like labor."

Jordan snorted, though there was no humor in his tone. "Yeah, 'cause breaking rocks in some post-apocalyptic hellhole is such a step up."

Trev, who had been staring at the floor, finally chimed in, his voice barely audible. "What if he just... gets rid of us? Like, if we're too much trouble?"