The Lazy Chronicles: Apartment of the Apocalypse-Chapter 53: Unexpected Allies

The sun cast long, jagged shadows across the desolate streets as the group trudged onward. After their narrow escape from the diner, tension hung in the air like a storm cloud. Mallory walked at the rear of the group, her wrench tucked into her belt and Blinky perched dutifully on her shoulder. Scraps, ever the loyal canine companion, padded alongside her, his mismatched eyes constantly scanning for danger.

Altair’s tablet beeped faintly, drawing everyone’s attention. He stopped and frowned at the screen, his brow furrowing as he deciphered the data.

"What’s it saying?" Kaelyn asked, her voice clipped.

"There’s movement ahead," Altair replied. "It’s not zombies, though. The heat signatures are too organized."

"Raiders again?" Vanessa groaned, gripping her blade tightly.

"Maybe," Altair said. "Or something else. It’s hard to tell."

"Let’s hope it’s a group of traveling comedians," Mallory said dryly. "I could use a laugh right about now."

Kaelyn shot her a look but didn’t comment. She motioned for the group to move into a nearby alleyway, providing some cover while they assessed the situation.

As they crept closer, the sound of muffled voices became audible. Mallory strained to hear, but the words were indistinct. She leaned closer to Zara, who was crouched beside her, and whispered, "If it’s raiders, I vote we let Scraps handle it. He’s scarier than all of us combined."

Scraps let out a low, guttural growl, almost as if he understood.

The group edged forward until they could see the source of the commotion: a makeshift camp set up in the ruins of an old library. Several figures were gathered around a fire, their faces illuminated by the flickering flames.

"They don’t look like raiders," Zara whispered.

Mallory squinted. The people at the camp were dressed in a mix of scavenged clothing, but their expressions were wary rather than hostile. A young man was tending to a woman’s injured leg, while a teenager nervously scanned their surroundings.

"They look like survivors," Altair said, his tone uncertain.

"Or bait," Kaelyn added grimly.

Mallory frowned. "We can’t just assume everyone’s out to get us. What if they really need help?"

"We can’t take that risk," Kaelyn replied.

"Since when are you the boss of morality?" Mallory shot back.

Before Kaelyn could respond, Blinky made an unexpected move. The small alien creature leapt from Mallory’s shoulder and scuttled toward the camp, his glowing tentacles waving in excitement.

"Blinky!" Mallory hissed, scrambling after him.

"Mallory, wait!" Kaelyn called, but it was too late.

Mallory burst into the clearing, wrench in hand, just as the survivors turned to face her. They froze, their expressions a mix of fear and confusion.

"Uh, hi," Mallory said awkwardly, holding up her hands. "I’m not here to hurt you. I swear."

Blinky chirped happily and hopped onto the teenager’s lap, much to the boy’s astonishment.

"What is that?" the boy asked, staring wide-eyed at the alien.

"Long story," Mallory said.

By then, the rest of her group had emerged from the shadows, weapons at the ready. Kaelyn stepped forward, her gaze steely as she addressed the camp.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

The young man tending to the injured woman raised his hands in a gesture of peace. "We’re just survivors. We don’t want any trouble."

Kaelyn’s eyes narrowed. "Prove it."

The man hesitated before reaching into his bag and pulling out a tattered notebook. He handed it to Kaelyn, who flipped through the pages. They were filled with sketches and notes—maps, survival tips, and journal entries chronicling their journey.

"They seem legit," Kaelyn admitted reluctantly.

Mallory stepped forward, her tone softening. "We’ve got food and medical supplies if you need them."

The injured woman, who looked to be in her forties, smiled weakly. "Thank you. We’ve been on the run for days. It’s... been rough."

As the two groups exchanged cautious pleasantries, Mallory couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. The camp was too exposed, the fire too conspicuous.

"Why are you out here in the open?" she asked.

The young man, whose name was revealed to be Jason, looked embarrassed. "We didn’t have a choice. We were ambushed by raiders and lost most of our gear. This is the best we could do."

Mallory’s stomach twisted at the mention of raiders. "Did they say anything? Like where they were going next?"

Jason shook his head. "They just took what they wanted and left. We’re lucky to be alive."

As the groups settled into an uneasy alliance for the night, Mallory found herself sitting by the fire, Scraps at her feet and Blinky perched on her shoulder. She watched Jason and the teenager, who introduced himself as Liam, as they worked together to patch up the injured woman.

"They’re stronger than they look," Zara said, sitting beside her.

"Yeah," Mallory agreed. "But they’re also vulnerable. We can’t just leave them here."

"You’re starting to sound like a hero," Zara teased.

"Don’t get used to it," Mallory replied with a grin.

The night passed without incident, and by morning, the two groups had formed a tentative plan. They would travel together to the beacon Altair had detected, pooling their resources and skills.

As they set off, Mallory couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of hope. For the first time in a long while, they weren’t just surviving—they were building something.

Of course, in true Mallory fashion, she couldn’t resist adding, "If we find another jukebox, I’m claiming it. No arguments."

Jason laughed, and even Kaelyn cracked a smile.

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