Greg returns with his offer

Noah sat on the porch, sharpening the edge of his hunting knife, dulled from use on zombie skulls. The steady rasp of the file against the metal was almost meditative, a rare distraction from the gnawing worry that lived in the pit of his stomach. The evening air was cool, heavy with the damp scent of rain-soaked wood, and the distant hum of crickets barely masked the silence of the world beyond.

Greg stepped out from the shadows of the house, his boots crunching on the gravel path. “We need to talk,” he said, his voice low but insistent.

Noah didn’t look up, his hands steady as he continued working on the blade. “What is it now?”

Greg leaned against the porch railing, arms crossed over his chest. The dim light from the doorway cast jagged shadows across his face, making him look even more menacing. “You know as well as I do that food is still an issue. Sure, you brought in a bit from that raid, but it won’t last. Not without my hunting.”

Noah’s jaw tightened, but he kept his focus on the blade. “I’m aware,” he said evenly.

Greg leaned in, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Then let’s cut the bullshit. You need me out there. Without my traps, my game, this whole camp falls apart. So, I’ll ask again: how do you plan to make it through another week?” He paused, his eyes narrowing, licking his lips. “And have you decided yet? Who’s it gonna be?”

The file in Noah’s hand stopped mid-stroke. He looked up, his brown eyes meeting Greg’s cold, expectant gaze. “Decided what?”

Greg smirked, the expression sending a shiver of disgust through Noah. “You know what. You send one of them—Eunhwa or Olivia—up to my room tomorrow night, and I’ll keep hunting. Otherwise, maybe I decide it’s not worth the effort anymore.”

Noah’s grip on the knife tightened, his knuckles white. The urge to swing it at Greg’s throat surged within him, but he pushed it down, breathing hard through his nose. “Maybe I just kill you where you stand.” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Greg shrugged, unbothered. “Sure. But you need me. You need my skills. What happens when there’s no food left? You really want to watch them starve?” He gestured toward the house, where Olivia and Eunhwa were inside, their laughter faint but audible.

“Think about it,” he said, turning on his heel. “I'll be waiting."

As Greg walked away, Noah stood frozen on the porch, the weight of the ultimatum pressing down on him like a vice. Inside, Olivia’s laughter rang out again, a cruel reminder of the stakes.