Chapter 37: To The Victor Goes the Spoils
"Five… Four… Three… Two… O-"
Just when they were about out of time, the survivors still hiding in the convenience store stepped out from behind the cover, which concealed them from Zane's line of sight. All the while yelling at the armed gunman, hoping he would not fire on them when they did so.
"Wait! We're coming out. Please don't shoot!"
Zane, of course, kept his rifle aimed in their general direction. Though his finger was not on the trigger, instead it rested on the magwell of the M4 Carbine's lower receiver. In a single second, or potentially in an even shorter span of time, he could easily pull the trigger from the position he had it in.
Yet his finger was not in danger of accidentally pulling the trigger, resulting in a potential negligent discharge. This was what it meant to have proper trigger discipline, something those who had no familiarity with firearms other than in TV and video games were completely lacking in.
It truly showed those who knew how to properly handle a weapon, from those who didn't. Of course, these civilians didn't recognize this, and were instead scared shitless, as Zane kept his muzzle pointed in their general direction.
There was not the slightest bit of remorse in his voice, even though he had just killed a father of a young girl. Instead, he barked commands at the survivors.
"Alright, here's what's going to happen. I'm going to toss you my empty bags, and you motherfuckers are going to fill it up. Food, water, medical supplies, alcohol, tobacco. I want whatever you can get your hands on, filled up in that bag. If I see even a single seal being broken, I will shoot every one of you, understood?"
The small group of survivors, who numbered in total less than a dozen, quickly nodded their heads. Where Zane cautiously unslung several bags he carried with him from around his body. Some were backpacks, while others were gym bags which were now being repurposed for carrying supplies.
Regardless, there were three bags in total that Zane had given the survivors, who he watched carefully, all while intimidating them with his carbine. The three people who grabbed hold of the bags scurried across the store, searching for the items that Zane had requested, and stuffing them into the bags they had been given like obedient slaves.
All the while, the young girl cried over the death of her father, while her mother tried to comfort her, despite being in an equally unstable state. In fact, the woman glared at Zane with hatred in her eyes, as he silently watched her, and the others, making sure they did not dare make a move against them.
Apparently out of everyone here, only the man Zane had shot had been armed, and while the others were retrieving the items that he had requested, the black-haired youth went and took the gun from the man he had killed and placed it in his ruck, which was full of military supplies already and thus incapable of being filled.
The fact that Zane had taken their only firearm, along with the two magazines within the deceased father's holster, meant that these people were now deeply concerned for their safety once Zane left them behind.
After all, they had already suffered several attacks by potential looters, all of which had been repelled by the now deceased father and his concealed carry weapon. Zane was the first to actually stand and fight after the bullets started firing, and he had won the exchange.
To the victor goes the spoils. Zane knew this. In fact, there was a certain historical phrase from Roman history that expressed this sentiment. And thus after retrieving the deceased father's handgun, and returning to his previous position, Zane stared coldly at the woman who he had just made a widow, and was quick to comment on the situation with a callous tone in his voice.
"Vae victis…"
After saying this, the other three survivors returned with the bags that Zane had requested, where he was quick to instruct them once more with a stern tone in his voice.
"Show me the goods. Once I'm certain that they are still sealed and have not been tampered with in any way, I'm going to walk out of here. If any of you attempt to follow me, or target me in any way, I will make good on my previous promise. Do you understand?"
The survivors were quick to nod their heads in a hurry, as they silently opened up the bags and revealed that none of the goods that Zane had requested were tampered with or sabotaged in any way. After confirming this, Zane ordered them to pack the bags once more, where he added them to his person.
Though he was carrying a lot of weight, Zane knew there was not much further he had to go in order to return to his current base of operations, thus he walked out of the store, leaving the survivors in a state of bewilderment, and confusion.
They had no idea how they were going to survive now. Obviously, they could not hold the position they were previously hidden in without a firearm. It was only a matter of time before someone more vicious than Zane came and killed them all.
And Zane had not bothered telling these wretches about the safe zone. He felt no obligation to help them, and in all honesty, considered them dead already. Thus, the path forward for these people was to walk blindly through the city, hoping that neither the living nor the dead preyed upon them.
Ultimately, that was exactly the fate that was reserved for those incapable of protecting themselves, and Zane did not give it a second thought.
Instead, he returned safely to the school campus, where he secured the school gate, sealing it off from any additional Walkers who may wish to wander into the area, before returning to the second building, where he barricaded the door with the steel bars he had previously installed during the hours of the previous day.
Once Zane had done all of this, he returned to the classroom he kept as his personal quarters, and laid down his equipment, locking the door behind him as he fell into a deep sleep.