The Last Stand (3)

Aurielle stopped mid-step, her pistols spinning idly in her hands as she sized him up.

Her sharp grin widened, unapologetic as always. "Water for food? Not exactly a fair trade in an apocalypse, buddy."

The man's grip tightened on his bat, his eyes narrowing as if gauging whether he could take them on. His body language shifted, caught between desperation and caution.

Linsley stepped forward, his crowbar resting lightly against his shoulder.

His tone was calm but edged with warning. "You're better off keeping your food and finding water yourself. Picking a fight with us isn't going to end well."

For a moment, the man seemed to consider his options. Then, muttering a curse under his breath, he backed away into the shadows of the alley, his retreat as tense as his approach.

Aurielle chuckled as they resumed their trek. "You know, for someone who claims to be all about teamwork, you're pretty good at scaring people off."