Part 49: Police Conversation

As I stealthily approached the cell where the gunman and the officer were engaged in conversation, their voices carried through the dimly lit basement, allowing me to eavesdrop on their exchange with newfound clarity. Their words painted a chilling picture of betrayal and intrigue, each revelation deepening the mystery that had drawn me into their web of deceit.

The gunman's tale unfolded before me, his voice filled with a confidence born of arrogance as he recounted his failed attempt to eliminate me amidst the throng of zombies. The officer's response was laced with contempt, his anger simmering beneath the surface as he chastised the gunman for his incompetence.

But it was the mention of Mother Miranda that sent a shiver down my spine, the name a haunting echo of the enigmatic figure whose photograph had been thrust into my hands by the mysterious woman on the streets. Who was Mother Miranda, and what connection did she have to the events unfolding around me?