The leader turned from the window slowly, his smile growing wider, darker. His eyes gleamed like a hungry wolf.
"You know," he said, voice calm and cold, "maybe we can use these ungrateful fools."
The nephew blinked. "Use them? How?"
The leader chuckled and stepped closer, lowering his voice like he was sharing a secret. "There's a zombie horde heading toward us, right? Next wave comes in maybe tomorrow or the day after."
"Yeah," the nephew said. "That's what the scouts said."
"Perfect," the leader hissed. "When those fools get ready to leave for Hope Base, we'll help them pack. Maybe even give them some supplies to look kind and generous."
The nephew narrowed his eyes. "That doesn't sound like you…"
The leader raised a finger.
"But before they leave, we drug their water. Knock them out cold. Then, in the middle of the night, we tie them up, load them on a broken supply truck, and dump them far away from here.
