Logan stared at the leaking ceiling with a heavy heart.
He hugged his thin coat closer and tried not to think about the empty cupboards.
’How will this ever get better?’ he wondered. ’I can barely keep us alive.’
He was the only one left in his family.
That thought sat like a stone in his chest.
Some days, he wanted to give up.
’If Gina wasn’t here,’ he thought, ’I would have stopped trying a long time ago.’
His fiancée, Gina, was the reason he kept getting up every morning.
She was sick now, and the sickness was the kind that made Logan afraid of the future. What if he committed suicide and his Gina was left to die all alone?
The healers who could help were only level 2, and they could only cure part of it.
But if the healing light stayed in Gina’s body for a long time, maybe she could get better.
The problem was the cost.
’One hundred kilos of rice,’ he said, the number like it was a joke that hurt.
Who had that much rice? Logan had been doing odd jobs day and night.
He carried heavy sacks, fought zombies, and even took the job of escorting. He cleaned, he swept, he fixed small things.
Still, at the end of a week, he saved up about one kilo of rice. If things stayed , Gina would die, and he would have nothing left.
A soft knock came at the door.
It sounded ordinary, but Logan jumped.
He wiped his hands on his coat and opened the door with a tired face.
A pot-bellied man stood there. His clothes were a little too bright for the place.
He smiled, but Logan couldn’t bring himself to look at the man with goodwill.
He stared at Logan with pity and a small hope.
"I’m hungry," the man said in a low voice.
Logan’s face turned cold. ’Of all times,’ he thought.
’Of course someone would come now.’ He folded his arms and answered, "I have no food."
The man’s face changed into a half-laugh.
"No food? How is that possible? You always had something, Logan. A loaf of bread, maybe. Don’t hide it from your uncle."
Rage burned in Logan’s chest.
He knew this man. He was his uncle.
His eyes went narrow. "You didn’t help us when my parents were dying," he said flatly. "You had food then, and you did nothing."
The uncle’s smile dropped. He frowned and looked hurt.
"You are making baseless accusations," he said.
"Back then, I had nothing. When I finally got some food, I wanted to give some to you. However, it was already late. Not my mistake."
Logan remembered that day. He remembered his parents waiting, their hands reaching.
In fact, they were a middle-class family with barely enough to eat. Before the apocalypse descended, their parents had bought rations for the upcoming month.
But after the apocalypse’s arrival, they were far away from their house, and hence they could only place their hope on the uncle who had coincidentally arrived at their house.
Since there were too many zombies and no mode of transportation, they didn’t think of travelling at all.
Instead, they begged their uncle to bring them the food while holding onto the little food they had.
At that time, his uncle had whined and said that he couldn’t leave because of some bad omen. He delayed his departure day after day.
The memory turned Logan’s hands into fists. ’They died because of his so-called omen,’ he thought.
"Leave," Logan said through his teeth. "Get out of my house. I don’t want you here."
His uncle only chuckled, like the sound comforted him.
"You are harsh, nephew," he said. "But I came with news. There is a healer who can help Gina for a very low price."
Logan blinked. His anger didn’t disappear.
"A quake? No," he said quickly. "I won’t let some fake healer touch her."
"This healer is real," the uncle said.
A guilty look flashed across his face and he closed his eyes for a moment. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ noveⅼfire.net
"He will do it because I’m related to him," he said. The voice was small. "He charges very little."
Logan’s heart jumped. He set a small loaf and a cup of water on a table and pushed it toward the uncle.
The old man ate slowly, like every bite was a memory.
"How much?" Logan asked, his eyes were filled with suspicion.
The uncle swallowed and looked away. "0.1 kilo of rice per treatment," he said finally.
Logan’s eyes widened. The number seemed like sunlight breaking through a cloud.
He almost smiled. ’This could work,’ he thought. ’If each treatment is that cheap, maybe we can afford enough.’
For a moment, he felt light-headed with hope. He almost hugged the uncle, but then he remembered the guilty look again. And his mind started working in full gear.
"Is there any other condition?" Logan asked. He tried to keep his voice calm.
The uncle closed his eyes and sighed deeply. "There is one condition," he said slowly.
"He wants you to help him with a task. It’s smuggling women."
The words fell into the room and made everything quieter. Logan’s jaw tightened.
"I can’t do that," he said. It was not fear he felt first. It was disgust. "I will not sell people for food."
The uncle tried to soothe him. "Just once, nephew. One task. After that, you can go back to your life. I promise Gina will get treated."
Logan looked at him and felt sick.
"I won’t sacrifice others to save one person, not even Gina. I’ll find another way."
He pushed himself up and walked the uncle to the door. "Leave now."
The uncle paused. He looked at Logan, then at the small home.
He whispered, "If you change your mind, come find me." Then he left.
When the door clicked shut, Logan sank onto the old sofa. He wanted to report everything, but...
’There are no police,’ he thought silently. ’The base leader lets this go. No one will stop the smuggling.’