Braxton nodded fast. "Yeah. Trey's still waiting. We gotta hurry. The knockout spray's gone. If she wakes up, we're screwed." Truth was, he hadn't wanted another fight with Natalie. He'd already seen her kill without hesitation more than once. He knew he wasn't strong enough to beat her. And she sure as hell wouldn't spare him or Tiffany. Ever since the world fell apart, Natalie had changed. She was cold and distant. She'd even blocked him on WhatsApp. And when she killed? She looked like she was just doing chores. No feelings at all. He would never forget the time she charged in with a chainsaw and drove off an entire floor of survivors. That day, he swore he'd never cross her again. But hunger changes everything. To survive, he and Tiffany had started dealing with Trey from Building 12. Trey had food. They didn't.At first, Trey let them stay around. But after less than a month, he got bored. He said Tiffany was too skinny—like hugging a skeleton—and told her not to come back. Without Trey's rations, they were as good as dead. So they came up with something else. They scouted for women. Took them to Trey's men. Traded them for food. Braxton, once a PhD student, was reduced to pimping women for scraps. But Trey was picky. He didn't want just anyone. He wanted "real beauties" that were healthy-looking. And two months into the apocalypse, that was rare. That's when they thought of Natalie. Only those who dare to take risks can create miracles. If they could deliver her, Trey would shower them with supplies. And once she was tied up, her stockpile at home would be theirs too.The problem was—Natalie wasn't like other women. Her combat skills were terrifying. Going after her could mean suicide. So Tiffany paid a high price. Two whole nights with some creep. In return, she got a bottle of knockout spray and a set of master lockpicks. Their plan was to gas Natalie, slash her tendons so she couldn't fight back, rob her place, then hand her over. She was beautiful. Even if Trey got bored, plenty of other men would pay. They could use her to keep trading for food until she was completely used up. And when she was worthless? They could always try her out themselves. Tiffany shivered with excitement just imagining it. That's why she pushed Braxton to act right away. To get Natalie to open the door, they lied. Said they saw her dad. Tiffany was sure Natalie cared about him. And now, with Natalie unconscious inside, their victory felt close. Tiffany's lips curled in a hungry smile.She was different from Braxton. Braxton only cared about food, drinks, and supplies. But what she wanted most was to see Natalie suffer. She pictured Natalie trapped in the house, completely under their control, forced to endure whatever cruel games they planned. Tiffany even imagined trading Natalie off to different men just to get more supplies. The thought of it made her so excited her hands started to shake. Braxton and Tiffany didn’t waste any more time. She quickly pulled out her lock-picking tools and got ready to pry the door open. Tiffany was too eager to wait. Her eyes lit up with anticipation as she rushed to the front. But the second she touched the steel door, her whole body jolted. A sharp crackle. Tiffany's head whipped back. Her arms flailed. Her legs spasmed, slamming against the floor. Her body shook so hard it looked like she was dancing. Braxton froze, dumbstruck.What the hell? She's ... celebrating? Then it hit him. No. She's getting shocked! Her hand was stuck to the metal in a locked tight grip. Instinct told him to grab her and pull—but if he touched her, he'd fry too. He looked around in panic. Nothing but bare walls. Every tool he had was metal. Tiffany's skin began to smoke. Her screams choked in her throat. Finally, an idea struck him. He ripped off his jacket, twisted it into a rope, looped it around her neck, and yanked her back in a rough chokehold. Her body snapped free from the door and crashed to the floor. The back of her head smacked hard against the concrete. "Jesus Christ ... " Braxton gasped, dropping the jacket. He rushed to her side. "Tiffany! Hey—hey, wake up!" Her eyes were closed. Her chest didn't move.He slapped her face in desperate. "Tiffany! Come on!" Nothing. Panic surged through him. He pressed both hands to her chest and started pumping repeatedly. Two minutes passed. His wounded shoulder tore open again, blood soaking through his shirt. His face turned pale, sweat dripping down. Still, Tiffany lay there. Silent. Motionless.