Zombie survivor

[80] Food

The sharp clang of the morning bell echoed through the camp, signaling the start of another day in this post-apocalyptic purgatory. The teens dragged themselves out of their tents, groggy and sore from a night spent crammed into cramped sleeping quarters. The air was cold and damp, with a faint smell of mildew and smoke lingering everywhere. No one spoke much as they trudged toward the makeshift cafeteria.

The cafeteria was a gutted warehouse with long, dented metal tables and a crude serving line set up along one wall. A few plastic chairs were scattered here and there, some cracked or missing legs. The smell of something vaguely edible filled the space, though it was mixed with the metallic tang of rust and mildew. A line of tired, hollow-eyed survivors had already formed, waiting for their turn to grab whatever passed for breakfast here.

Chloe's nose wrinkled as she stepped into the line. "Oh my gosh, this place smells like ass."

"Yeah, no Michelin stars here," Brittany muttered, flipping her pink hair over her shoulder. "Bet it's just some gross gruel or something."

Evan, standing behind them, gave a half-hearted shrug. "It's food. Better than starving, right?"

"Barely," Chloe shot back, her arms crossed as the line inched forward.

When they finally reached the front, the "cafeteria lady" greeted them—or, more accurately, didn't. She was a stout, middle-aged woman with stringy gray hair pulled back into a bun and a permanent scowl etched into her face. Her apron was stained with unidentifiable smears, and she looked like she hadn't slept in weeks.

"What's on the menu today?" Chloe asked, trying—and failing—to sound polite.

The woman slammed a ladleful of watery oatmeal into a dented metal bowl and shoved it toward her without a word. Next to the oatmeal was a single slice of stale bread, so thin it was practically see-through, and a small plastic cup of murky water.

"You're kidding, right?" Chloe said, holding up the bowl like it was toxic waste. "This isn't food. This is... prison slop."

The cafeteria lady didn't even look up. "Take it or leave it."

"Yeah, but—"

"Next!" the woman barked, cutting her off and turning to the person behind her.

Chloe opened her mouth to argue, but someone in the line grumbled, "Move it, princess. You're holding everyone up."

"Yeah, some of us actually want to eat today," another voice chimed in.

Chloe turned to glare at the people behind her, but their tired, annoyed faces made it clear she wasn't going to win this one. With a huff, she snatched the bowl and stomped off toward the tables.

The rest of the group followed her, their own bowls of watery oatmeal in hand. They found an empty table near the back of the room and plopped down, the metal benches creaking under their weight.

"This is some bullshit," Chloe said, stabbing at the oatmeal with her spoon like it had personally offended her. "I've eaten better crap out of a vending machine."

"At least the water's free," Evan said with a weak chuckle, holding up his cup. The liquid inside was murky, with a faint yellowish tint. "Sort of."

Jordan, sitting across from them, grinned and leaned forward. "Yo, I bet this oatmeal's got the same nutritional value as my jizz."

"Dude, what the fuck?" Jean said, nearly choking on his first bite.

"What?" Jordan said, feigning innocence. "I'm just saying. It's, like, high in protein and shit."

"Shut up, Jordan," Brittany groaned, rolling her eyes. "You're so fucking gross."

"Gross, but not wrong," Tyler added with a smirk, earning a groan from the others.

Chloe stared down at her bowl, her appetite gone. "I can't eat this," she muttered, pushing the bowl away. "I'd rather starve."

"Don't say that," Tyler said suddenly, his voice low and... weirdly eager. He picked up his own bowl and slid it across the table toward her. "Here. You can have mine."

Chloe blinked, caught off guard. "What? No. I'm not taking your food."

"It's fine," Tyler said, his grin widening. "I wasn't hungry anyway."

"You've been whining about being hungry since last night," Brad said, narrowing his eyes at Tyler. "What's your angle, dude?"

"No angle," Tyler said with a shrug. "I just think Chloe deserves it more than me. Gotta keep our queen strong, right?"

"Did you just call me a queen?" Chloe asked, her expression shifting from confusion to disgust. "What the fuck, Tyler?"

"Yeah," Brittany said, snorting. "She's more like a drama queen."

"Fuck off, Brittany," Chloe snapped, shoving the bowl back toward Tyler. "I don't need your pity food."

"It's not pity," Tyler insisted, his voice taking on a strange, almost pleading tone. "It's, like, respect. You're, uh... special."

"Okay, ew," Chloe said, leaning back in her seat like Tyler was contagious. "That's fucking creepy. Eat your own damn food."

Brad groaned and buried his face in his hands. "Tyler, stop being weird. You're embarrassing all of us."

Jean tried to break the tension, raising his spoon like a toast. "Can we just... eat and not be assholes for five minutes? Please?"

The group fell into an uneasy silence, broken only by the clinking of spoons against bowls and the occasional slurp of water. The oatmeal was bland, watery, and somehow both too hot and too cold in different spots. The bread crumbled into dust with the slightest touch, and the water tasted faintly metallic, as if it had been sitting in rusted pipes for too long.

"This sucks," Brittany said after a while, pushing her bowl aside. "Like, I get that it's the apocalypse, but come on. There's gotta be something better than this."

"Yeah, like what?" Evan asked, his voice tired. "You think there's a McDonald's still open somewhere?"

"Maybe," Brittany said with a shrug. "I mean, those fries are, like, immortal, right?"

Jean sighed, rubbing his temples. "Can we not talk about food we're never gonna eat again? It's just making this worse."

The group lapsed back into silence, each of them quietly coming to terms with the harsh reality of their situation. The food was terrible, the conditions were worse, and the future was uncertain at best.

But for now, they were alive. And in a world like this, that was all they could really ask for.

Q: Do you think you can eat food like this for 1 week?