-All Standard and Previously stated repetitive disclaimers apply. AKA. Don't be naughty and steal!

Reviews: Please and Thank you. As many have said, it means a lot, not only to my ego, but it truly helps me improve my writing skills. And at the moment, I am entering a different spectrum in the story, and therefore it has changed my writing style a bit, and am eager to hear your opinions and advice.

A/N: Wow. The 50th chapter, what a milestone for this little story!

Chapter 50

His eyes narrowed, and he let the hands that had held mine, slowly fall to his sides. "Ah, I see..how interesting." He commented quietly, looking up at a high window above us, but when I glanced up, no one was there.

Kirren was about to speak when the man, who had introduced himself as Brandon, overrode him. "Well, I suppose we should get to the trading, it will be dark soon, and I don't know about you, but I am eager for some fresh food." Kirren inclined his head in agreement, motioning to myself and Thor foreword, ordering the others to stay with our goods while we inspected the generator.

"Talk! Mingle! I am sure you have a lot to tell me boys. Oh, yes. Stand down boys!" He allowed grandly, with a flinging hand gesture, and as we were walked through the dark doorway, the stiffly held figures relaxed into more human like poses.

It was like walking into a tomb. It was barely lit, and stank of human sweat and sour food. Useless clutter lined the hallways, until the building opened up into a huge storeroom. Two conveyor belts lined the side walks, connecting to the two warehouse bay doors, originally used to load product. Ceiling high shelves were stocked high with products, the place was still full of goods.

And then there were the people too. They were dirty, and shadowed figures, whose eyes gleamed dully in the half-light. They clung to the walls like overgrown, malnourished spiders as we passed, as though we might snatch them away and carry them off into some imagined hell.

All the while, Brandon's voice boomed ahead, deep in conversation with Kirren, his quiet voice barely legible over the great pigs echoing voice.

Finally, we stopped at the base of the conveyor belt. Brandon craned his neck upwards and whistled to a balding man, peering down at us with wide eyes from an elevated control platform. The man almost fell over himself getting back to the panel and pressing the necessary buttons to start the right-hand belt moving.

A single box, clanked over to us, it was large, and from the look of it still in it's original packaging. "There it is. Not even opened." He said, running a filthy hand along the dusty surface. I was close enough that the dust tickled my nostrils.

"It hasn't been tested?" I asked incredelously. "You expec us to trade for triple what it is worth for an item that mght have a design flaw or a manufacturing problem?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest, eyeing him and the surrounding guards critically.

"As blunt as that statement was, she has a point, friend." Kirren replied, a smile tugging at the cornor of his lips.

"What do you offer in exchange if we test it?" He replied schwerdly. "Trade? We are exchanging it for three times as much! We expect the fucking this to work." Thor rumbled dangerously. And to his cerdit,the man showed no fear, or intimidation, any lesser a man would be quaking in their boots or sweating with fear.

"Then offer something more in trade." He insisted. "You asked for no guarantee in our orginal agreement, only a straight exchange." He finished smugly.

"Bastard." I remember muttering. The guy was playing us well, like a professional pupeeter pulling at all the right strings. Even Kirren's hansome face was scrunched up in something close to anger. Which I might add is quite a feat, as not much can shake Kirrens impassive public mask. But this guy was deffinately pushing his luck.

Brandon's grin only stretched wider. "Come now.." He begin pretentiously, "We are all civilized men here...I am sure we can come to some kind of agreement..." He finished, his eyes swiveling over to me, before, almost reluctantly coming back to Kirren again.

I snorted in discust, and spoke over him as he began to speak again. "I am going for a walk, to check on the others." I said shortly, swingly the shotgun lightly up to lean onto my shoulder. The others noded in agreement, already busy haggling. Though I couldn't shake the feeling that that mans eyes followed me all the way out.

I walked more confediently through the halls then I felt. It is best to act confedient in an unstable situation, lest you show weakness to the wrong sort. After peering out a window, and catching a glimpise of the rest of our team, I seated myself on a stacked pile of boxes, resting my back against the musty smelling cardboard.

The muted buzz of coversation echoed through the building, the smell of sour sweat still lingered, permating the very air, I wondered how often they showered, or if the building even had showers. I had to remind myself, still do actually, that us in the scantuary are beyond lucky. We have been blessed with so many luxurys that the rest of the world don't have, such as the simple tool of a shower.

I reached into my vest pocket, and took out a mars bar, my favourite energy food. As I unwrapped it, I wondered, the way I always did at times such as this, how this all could have happened. This virus...this disease. How did it start...and how could we finish it? The news was never specific, the reports that came through from China..Japan, Russia, then the rest europe, it was all consentrated on the voilence, the supposed riots. Everyone figured it was religiously related, that the melting pot that had been bioling for decades had finally brimmed the sides and begun to pour over everything. But then, a few weeks before it came and ruined my life, there was talk of a powerful, terrible disease. Then it was right there, it wasn't on the television anymore, it was outside, and it was pounding to get in.

The noise of clothing russling close by brought me back to attention, and without moving me head, or alerting the watch I knew of their presence, my eyes shifted to the right. It was a small group of children, four of them, watching me intently from behind a pile of broken furniture near the hall doors. They were all dirty, and dressed in clothes too big for them. "If you are trying to sneak up on me, you should try and be quieter." I said softly, eliting a chorus of gasps from the group across the room.

"But, I have to say, you are all are pretty good, I can usually tell the moment someone turns in my direction." I continued, keeping my voice calm as I raised my head, and caught their eyes, all with eyes as stunned as a deer caught in the headlights.

"Come here. I won't hurt you." I requested, but to their credit, none of them came foreward. Smart bunch. "Okay, alright." I continued, with a small smile. "But I think it will be pretty hard to share my chocolate bar if you guys stay over there." I finished with a grin, peel down on side of the wrapper to expose the creamy chocolate pattern. That evoked a rustle, a bout of fidgeting, and the sound of whispered conversation.

Carefully, and very deliberately, I took out a small paring knife from my vest pocket, and cut a small slice of the chocolate, and swallowed it, making sure to make exaggerated noises of pleasure. That was all it took, they peered out at me one last time, then made their way, creeping over to me. Eyes flicking from my face, to the chocolate in my hand. None of them could have been past eight years old, three of them boys, and one of them a girl. They looked malnourished, but I had seen worse. They crowed close to each other, as though they were all magnetized together. They all wore clothes too big for them, the shortest shirt was so big for him, it covered his shorts, if he even had shorts on. What disturbed me more was the three boys all had numerous cuts and bruised on their faces and arms. I had to bite my lip before I did something stupid.

I cut a slice, and looked towards the bravest of the bunch, the tallest boy, with shaggy hair, uncut and straggly halfway down his neck. He had edged closer then the rest. "What is your name?" I asked, extending my hand with the chocolate in front of him, enticingly. His dirty little fingers hesitantly inched foreword, as though he was expecting me to yank the goodies out of his reach and strike him.

"Go ahead." I encouraged with a kind smile. Watching as he bit his lip, gave in, lightly snatching the treat from my hand, and stuffing it into his mouth almost faster then I could blink. After finished, he looked up at me, it was a calculated look. But there must have been something about me that he trusted, or at least liked, as he plopped himself down beside me, shook his hair out of his eyes, and mumbled: "Brayden", then held out his hand for another slice. The others were quick to follow suit, their name for a piece, though they were more wary then their leader and crouched on the floor, watching me.

With that bit of chocolate bar I learned more then I ever wanted to know about that place.It was a fortress held in check by fear. They used the women as slaves, very girl past her first period was either pregnant or nursing. Brandon had a insane plan to repopulate the world, whether the women wanted to or not. The women were made to obey by the threat of Brandon and his cronies killing their children, or worse, string up their husbands, brothers, or fathers outside on the fence, just low enough so the undead could reach, by high enough so they were eaten alive, slowely. What men were left were either coasting on the good behavior of their wifes, or were in on the whole rape. Everything made more sense now, the covert looks, the cowed populace, and the pile of burning dead outside. The children told me there had been a rebellion, and that many had died trying to either fight back or escape.

When the chocolate bar was finished, my fan club moved on, most likely to see if the others had similar treats to share.