CHAPTER 32: 32: THE WORLD FILLED WITH SCUM

Zara slammed the door to her room with a force that rattled its hinges, leaning heavily against the worn wood as she tried to steady her pounding heart. Greg’s smug expression, the oily gleam in his eyes, and the unspoken threats in his tone lingered in her mind like a bad taste.

She squeezed her eyes shut, inhaling deeply to calm herself.

Under her coat, Leo stirred slightly, his tiny hands brushing against her chest. She instinctively tightened her arms around him, shushing him softly. "It’s okay, baby. We’re safe," she murmured, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her own uncertainty.

Sliding down to the floor, Zara allowed herself a moment to think as she unwound Leo from her chest. He stretched cutely and then toddled to the corner of the room to play with his toys. Toys he pulled out of his space on instinct now. It was a good thing he spent most of his time outside the room strapped to her because it was still a bit hard for him to control himself.

They could work on it, but there hasn’t been time for that. Zara stood up with a sigh, smiling gently at Leo when he looked up questioningly at her.

"Dont worry about me, baby. Keep playing," she assured gently.

She pressed a hand to her forehead, pacing the small room. "I need that depot," she muttered to herself. The idea of sneaking into the tightly guarded stores seemed impossible at first.

But then, a face flashed in her mind.

Greg was cunning, manipulative, and unpredictable—qualities that made him dangerous. But he wasn’t invincible. She just needed to find a way to outmanoeuvre him. Her mind raced through fragments of conversations she had overheard around the base.

There had been murmurs of rations and supplies stored in separate depots—food, medicine, and weapons, each in different locations. She even recalled Greg once boasting during a drunken tirade about his "exclusive access" to the depots.

If she could exploit Greg’s oversized ego and his desire to dominate, she might gain access to one of those depots. It was a long shot, not one she was comfortable with, but it was her only shot.

The Next Morning

Zara’s hands smoothed over the front of her coat as she prepared herself. She had spent hours rehearsing her approach, knowing she needed to seem sorry and meek for what had happened the day before.

Finding Greg wasn’t difficult. He was in the common area, holding court with a group of subordinates who hung on his every word. Zara steeled herself as she approached, forcing a faint smile onto her face.

"Greg," she called softly, enough to draw his attention but not loud enough to invite anyone else into the conversation.

His gaze shifted to her, a mix of surprise and curiosity lighting his features. "Zara," he drawled, his tone oozing smugness. "Zara. Didn’t think I’d see you after last night. What’s on your mind?"

"I came to apologize," she said, dropping her eyes to feign humility. "I overreacted yesterday. Hormones, you know. The pregnancy..." She let her voice trail off, biting her lip as though embarrassed. One hand resting on her coat-covered stomach.

Greg’s eyes narrowed slightly, studying her. "Is that so?"

"Yes," she replied quickly, meeting his gaze. I’ve actually been stressing over a few things, and Winter wasn’t sure he’d be able to get it for me. And he told me not to talk to you about it..." She trailed off, rubbing her hands together slowly as she peered at him from beneath her lashes.

she almost flinched at the look on his face. "What? He didn’t want you to talk to me? Waht is is?" he asked, leaning close to her.

"Well, it’s something. And, well... I realized I might need your help with something. Something important."

His interest was piqued, just as she had hoped. He leaned back, folding his arms. "I’m listening."

Zara hesitated as though unsure whether to proceed. "It’s... about the baby. I’ve been worried. There’s something I need—something I thought was impossible to find. But this base is so well-stocked, so advanced... I thought maybe—just maybe—you might have it in one of the depots."

Greg’s eyes gleamed with suspicion and curiosity. "What exactly do you need?"

"Sterile bandages," Zara said quickly, her mind grasping at the first plausible item. "And, uh, a specific vitamin supplement I used to take when I was expecting before the world went to hell. I know it’s a long shot, but I thought if anyone could help me, it would be you."

Greg’s lips curled into a slow, predatory smile. "You thought right." Then his eyes narrowed slightly. "But what makes you think I’d just hand over rare supplies like that? What’s in it for me?"

Zara swallowed the lump in her throat. "I’d owe you. I’d be... grateful." She let the word hang in the air, carefully ambiguous.

His smirk returned, smug and self-assured. "Grateful, huh?"

Zara held his gaze, refusing to let her disgust show. "Y-yes, extremely."

"Is that so?" he drawled, eyes lighting with ill intent.

Zara nodded, "Yes, I’ll owe you big time," she added, feigning adoration as she looked up at him with wide eyes.

She suppressed the urge to recoil again as he leaned closer. "But," he added, "you owe me. Gratitude can go a long way, you know."

She forced a strained smile, her fists clenching behind her back. "Of course. I wouldn’t forget."

Greg seemed satisfied. "Alright, follow me."

*****

The walk to the depot was tense. Zara kept her steps measured, her expression neutral, even as Greg made offhanded comments to unsettle her.

"You know, Zara, you should be more... careful with who you choose as a partner," he murmured, leaning closer than necessary as they approached the guarded entrance. "Imagine not being able to provide for you and your baby. Good thing I’m here."

Zara’s fist clenched as she tried not to slap him across the face. Damon would have moved heaven and earth for her and Leo and had lost his life for them. How dare this slimy bastard speak badly about him, even if it was misguided, and he thought Winter was her child’s father.

"...Ï mean, leaving my pregnant wife and child with people I dont know is out of the question," eh continued to rant.

Zara made a face as though his words pained her.

"You dont need to feel bad dear," he grabbed her arm a little too tight, "I’m here to help and I’ll give you my support. I just hope you know how to appreciate it."

She forced a small, tight smile. "I do. Truly."

Greg chuckled, clearly enjoying the game.

"Take a break," Greg ordered, waving a hand dismissively. "I’ll handle things here."

The guards hesitated, exchanging uncertain glances.

Greg frowned at being second-guessed in front of Zara. "Did I stutter? Go. Smoke. Whatever. Just clear out."

The guards exchanged uncertain glances again but didn’t argue, stepping away reluctantly. As they disappeared around a corner, Greg turned to Zara. "Some grunts need orientation or something," he tried to brush off being ignored.

Zara nodded mutely, pressing her hand under Leo’s bum to keep him from moving.

Greg unlocked the heavy door and gestured for her to enter. "After you."

Inside, the air was cool and musty, and the shelves were lined with an array of items that made Zara’s breath catch. The room was filled with more supplies than she had seen since the apocalypse started, and she was almost overwhelmed by them.

She stepped inside hesitantly, her pulse quickening. The depot was a mix of supplies—shelves lined with cans of food and crates of medicine stacked neatly against the walls. She moved slowly, feigning interest in the shelves nearest the entrance, picking up a bottle and examining it while keeping an eye on Greg.

"Go ahead. Don’t take too long."

Zara nodded, moving further into the room.

She sifted through the shelves, her fingers brushing over boxes of medical supplies. Bandages, antiseptics, vials of medicine—all useful but not enough. Her mind raced, debating how much she could reasonably take without arousing suspicion.

Leo stirred under her coat, and Zara slipped it open slightly, letting him breathe more easily. "Stay quiet, sweetheart," she whispered, brushing her fingers through his soft curls.

Suddenly, voices echoed from outside. Zara froze, her heart lurching. She ducked behind a stack of crates, pressing herself against the cold metal as footsteps approached.

"Greg," one of them said, his tone sharp. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"What I always do," Greg replied coolly. "Keeping things running."

The voices grew louder, their conversation spilling into an argument.

"You can’t just waltz in here whenever you feel like it," another man snapped. "These supplies are accounted for."

"And who’s accounting for them? You?" Greg retorted.

Their argument escalated, but Zara focused on their words. Was there an issue with the hierarchy? She had thought Greg had some pull in running the base since he was in that meeting. Had she thought wrong?

The door creaked open, and a group of men entered, their voices loud and agitated.

"Leadership’s making a mistake giving out supplies like this, we are running out," one of them hissed. "People are going to notice. It’s only a matter of time before this place turns into a damn powder keg."

"And sending those guys out there? You think they’ll survive? That mission’s suicide, and you know it," another voice added.

Zara’s stomach twisted. The trip was a trap? Winter’s in danger. She pressed herself further into the shadows, listening intently.

The conversation suddenly shifted to the cache everyone was hunting for. "They’re searching the wrong spots," someone muttered. "The gang territory up north holds the key I tell you, but no one’s got the guts to face them."

Zara’s brows furrowed. Gangs? Territories? Up north? She had thought it was just people banding together to form survival groups that moved around. Did people still have time to play gang wars?

Leo stirred again, his tiny hand reaching for a bag of something she was too tense to pay attention to. Zara quickly covered him, her heart racing as the voices drew closer to her hiding spot.

They were right beside their hiding spot; she could tell how many they were. If she was found out here...

"Let’s get out of here," one of the men finally said. "We’ve got what we came for."

The group left, their footsteps fading.

Zara waited, her body tense, until she was sure they were gone.

She emerged from her hiding spot, her hands shaking. Greg stood by the door, looking irritated but not surprised.

"Find what you needed?" he asked.

"Yes," Zara said, her voice steady despite her racing heart. She held up a small box of bandages. "But... not much. I might need to come back."

Greg’s smirk returned. "We’ll see."

They walked in silence, Zara thinking through what she had heard and Greg staring intently at her.

She didn’t understand what they were talking about. Was the cache guarded in gang territory? Did Winter know? What did this mean for her plan to get supplies for her and Leo?

"Why is all this happening," Zara didn’t realise she had mumbled out loud as she unconsciously patted Leo’s back.

Greg’s expression softened slightly, though his eyes still gleamed with suspicion. "You know, I could help you more... if you’re willing to show a little more appreciation."

Zara feigned a yawn, clutching her coat tighter. "Maybe next time. I’m exhausted."

She didn’t wait for his response, slipping past him and hurrying back to her room.

Back in her room, Zara locked the door and collapsed onto the bed, her body trembling. She set Leo down, and the toddler giggled, oblivious to the danger they had narrowly escaped.

Zara kissed his forehead, whispering, "I’ll figure something out for us," before letting him go.

She grabbed a scrap of paper, sitting cross-legged on the bed and began jotting down everything she had overheard: base secrets, Winter’s mission, the cache. Her mind whirled, piecing the information together.

Winter. She had to warn him, but how? She didn’t even know when he would return—if he would. The thought made her insides churn. This wasn’t good.

She wasn’t supposed to get attached to anything aside from Leo.

This was all the more reason for her to leave while she had the chance.