"The way I see it..." you start, then lick your sticky lips again. "... You don't trust me, and I don't have much reason to trust you back." Your eyes dart back and forth between the two of them. The man makes a 'she has a point' facial expression, while the woman makes a 'she has a point, but I don't like that' expression. At least, you think. You don't have a whole lot of experience with faces. Err... living ones.
"You say there's still supplies up there?" The woman narrows her eyes.
"Yeah," you say, then before she can respond, you pipe up again. "How about, I lead you to it. I walk ahead, so if any traps are still there -- which there aren't -- I'll trigger them, and you'll know I'm lying... and... that I'm dead. But if I'm telling the truth, you get to see all the supplies, which is more than I could ever need."
The woman mulls it over for a bit. "... Fine. Walk."
You glance down at your weapons. "Do I have permission to slowly pick up my weapons and hand them over to you?"
She sighs and gestures towards them affirmatively. Hand still out in the open, you slowly crouch down and grab the rifle and pistol, making sure your fingers aren't anywhere near the trigger. You pass them over to the two -- the man takes the pistol and stuffs it into a pocket, and the woman takes the rifle in her non-machete hand. You begin to walk towards the stairs you originally went up.
"Why are you going towards those stairs?" The woman asks.
"I came down these stairs alone. You have no proof that I didn't trap the stairs on the way down. If I take the stairs that your friends went up, then that's better, right?"
She just makes a grunt, perhaps meaning 'I guess'. You aren't shot, so you keep walking forward.
<You are doing quite well with your first interaction with living people. Not being shot is quite the achievement.>
"Thanks, Val," you mutter under your breath. "I can put 'not being shot' on the very short list of things I'm good at."
Okay, maybe you are being a little sassy with Valerie now.
Floor by floor, you make your way up. The flashlight from the man's gun sends long shadows dancing up and down the wall. They don't scare you, honestly. It's the sound of their heavy boots behind you that send little jolts up your spine. Each one is like a little gunshot. You try to focus more on the sound of the rain outside, but it doesn't help much. Okay, Pat, breath...
"That's a lotta hardware you're packin'. Where'd you get it?" the man asks, voice raspier from the effort of climbing stairs.
"Hm? Hardware?"
"The prosthetics. Don't look cheap, either. That's some fancy stuff, all sleek, not bein' held together with duct tape and prayers."
"I... I don't remember where I got it," you say, not exactly lying.
"Bullshit. You don't just forget where you got your limbs chopped off and replaced."
"You can't forget what you never experienced in the first place," you say somewhat offhandedly.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," the woman interjects, "that she wasn't awake for it. Someone gave her the prosthetics without consent."
You glance back at the woman, saying nothing. She is still eyeing you up and down, but suspicion is slowly being replaced with curiosity. Perhaps even a little... intrigued? Well, good, that might mean you stay alive longer.
Finally, the three of you arrive at the sniper's floor. The smell of charred flesh is still disgustingly strong. The man holds and nose and wretches a few times. Most of the dust and smoke has cleared, but that just makes it easier to see the awful scene. You really wish there was a way around them. Wishing is about all you can do, though.
"This... this was where the mine went off. I didn't have time to warn them. I barely ducked back into cover myself."
The woman marches forward, simply responding with a "Mmm." She examines the two bodies... or, the one body, and the pair of half-melted boots.
"... Fuck me," the man says, going forward. His weapon is no longer pointed at you, but you have no intention of running or fighting at the moment. Though, the fact that their guard is down means they're trusting you a little bit more than earlier. That's good. Trust is in shorter supply than death and bullets around here.
"Definitely the two of them. That's one of Tucker's gold teeth, right there." The woman points at the only body, gingerly using her machete to open the mouth. Sure enough, the flashlight glints off a golden tooth. She leans down, sets the rifle to the side, then uses her machete to yank the tooth out. Your stomach churns.
"That's... a bit harsh," you say, not really thinking.
"You know what's 'harsh'?" She stands up, tucking the gold tooth into a pocket and retrieving the rifle off the floor. "What's 'harsh' is some asshole setting up traps that turn my damn friends into a damned bowl of chili smeared on the wall. 'Harsh' is spending the last few months working our asses off to get to him, losing about a dozen folks every month. 'Harsh' is knowing that every body is another sacrifice to get a chance to fuckin' eat." She presses the tip of the machete against your chest. "Can't even bury them. No dirt to dig up. Just gotta toss them in the water. This tooth is probably the only thing we'll be bringing back to his family."
"I... I'm sorry," you stammer, voice lowered. "I hope the supplies will make up for all of this."
She just points, silently commanding you to continue walking. The man mumbles what sounds like a prayer under his breath. You head down the junction corridor, towards the open door. They walk in with you, and their eyes go wide.
"This... this could supply us for months," the man says, bewildered. He begins examining the crates you already opened. "You said you took some shit?" he says to you. You nod. "Damn, you barely even made a dent. This is a jackpot."
"Call the others," the woman says, also sifting through the supplies. "These crates are too heavy to transport. It'll take several trips to get it all back, and we'll need to post some guards to make sure no other groups get to it."
"Yes ma'am." The man nods and retrieves a walkie-talkie that looks like it was made from spare parts. He begins speaking various commands into it. You just stand there in the middle of the room, nervousness welling up in your gut.
You think of what to say next...
