Playing The Victims [BL]

Chapter Sixty-Five | Third World

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Fahren had joined this feral world just before the team decided to head towards the 'safe-zone'. So currently, the whole team had splintered in order to search more ground for resources. Whenever they moved, they did so with tactful decisions. Wherever they decided to pitch-up and call base, they would never scavenge in the nearby surrounding area. They didn't want to risk Rotters following them back- so they worked outwards in.

Hansel, whilst he was usually ordered to stay at the base, had been thrown into a team as an extra pair of hands. The team's leader made sure to plonk him with a few of the best individuals in the Scavenger team. The strongest that is, and the ones Hansel got along with the least. The fact that he almost got himself killed likely didn't help his case.

He sighed, tilting his head back against the metal lining of the van they were travelling in. Though he'd easily thought up a somewhat reliable plan, it still meant that he had to take bountiful risks and, on numerous occasions, be hands on. He would be far from able to be carefree for the foreseeable future. Especially considering the reputation of the group he now called his own.

With the rest of the spare time that he had, Hansel sought out the memories with medical knowledge in them. If he was suddenly caught out, being unprepared, the group could consider him useless and get rid of him pretty quickly. But his old self was by no means medically inclined- other than owning a box of plasters and a few packets of painkillers.

Plus, as he discreetly fondled one of the pockets of his new jacket, the vial that System had oddly given him was still there. Even though he had a vague idea what it would be for, he wasn't foolish enough to draw attention to it and have it taken away.

"- he's obviously got a plan. We're stockpiling as it is, and he's getting impatient." Hansel came out of his thoughts to listen to the conversation going on between the others in the vehicle with him. For a moment or two, he didn't know who they were talking about, but the more they spoke back and forth, he realised it was about their team leader.

"Aye, there's definitely something going on if we've been stuck with Gretel."

"Well it was only a matter of time before boss stopped pretending to pussyfoot around him."

Why they felt the need to talk about him when he was conscious and right beside them, Hansel wasn't sure, but he ignored them by looking out of the window. They had been driving for numerous hours, and the sun was gradually getting lower, but the men around him didn't seem to be concerned.

He'd decided to try and act like the original would for the time being, so that when it came to hatching his plan, it would take them off-guard and he could get as far away from them as he could. Most likely easier said than done, because one look at the men around him, it made sense why other surviving groups gave them a wide berth.

The town that they had evidently set up base in, was one of the old wealthier ones in the area. Large, lustrous white buildings hidden behind elaborate gates that, at most, were built to keep people out- not hoards of the undead. A few, which people had obviously sought refuge in, had been flattened and with clear markings of a battle. Judging by the wreckage, Hansel knew which side he'd place his bet on.

Although modifications had been made to their mode of transport, it was still inevitable that the low rumble of the engine would draw some attention from the sound-sensitive creatures that tended to lurk around every corner. A few stragglers grunted and groaned as they looked for the source of the sound. But as it would appear, not all Rotters were the same, and the ones that were in their surroundings, were very slow.