Z-Burbia 4: Cannibal Road by Jake Bible

bed.
    “You have the look of a man in need of information, Mr. Stanford,” Kramer grinned. “I’m glad to see one of you came to your senses and realized that I am here to help, not hurt.”
    “I’m not going to kid myself that that is true,” I said. “But maybe something you know can help, even if I suspect your intentions overall are far from charitable.”
    “Well, I admit they certainly are not entirely charitable,” Kramer. “That would be saying that I lack the motivation of self-preservation. I’d be a liar if I said I came to you fine people forother reasons than to just prolong my life.”
    “What’s on the other side of Knoxville?” I asked, done with the banter. “Critter says it used to be controlled by canny gangs. Is it still?”
    Kramer smiled and eased back into the plastic chair he sat in. “Control is such a subjective word. There are many degrees of control. Control of movement, control of one’s environment, control of those around you, self-control- all very subjective, indeed. One could argue that I control this conversation by having information you need, yet I am sure you would say you control the entire situation by keeping me captive. Which version of control dominates? Which one is supreme over the other? I am your prisoner, but you are at my mercy.”
    “You want to talk mercy?” Stuart growled as he stood by the door.
    “Ah, then the physical threats begin,” Kramer said, “which I cannot match. The tables turn and the position of strength is revealed.”
    “Is it possible for you to just answer my question?” I asked. “All your jabber, jabber, jabber is giving me a headache.”
    Stuart snorted.
    “Shut up,” I smirked. “I see the irony.”
    “Your question was what? If there are cannibal gangs to the west of Knoxville?” Kramer smiled. “That is easy to answer: yes.”
    “Okay, now we are getting somewhere,” I said. “Critter also believes they have probably eaten themselves down to nothing. Is that true?”
    “Down to nothing? Oh, heavens no, son!” Kramer laughed. “Those gangs are thriving! From a strictly anthropological view, I would say they are quite possibly the strongest culture I have seen sprout up from this nightmarish landscape. They have adapted as needed and taken that adaptation to new heights. No, no, no, Mr. Critter is quite mistaken. The cannibal gangs are far from down to nothing.”
    “Great,” I responded as I looked over at Stuart. “Not exactly what we were prepared for.”
    “We can get through,” Stuart said. “We may not have known we’d be dealing with thriving canny gangs, but we knew we’d be dealing with plenty of crazies. These’ll just be the first.”
    “Don’t underestimate them, Gunnery Sergeant,” Kramer said. “They are crazy, yes, but they are also not stupid. The ones that have made it this far in life are wily like any true predatory scavenger. They are like packs of hyenas. Get enough of them together and even a lion cannot scare them off.”
    “Fine,” Stuart said. “Then give us details. We need to know how many of them there are and where they camp out. Do they hunt at night? Do they hunt during the day? Are they armed or use vehicles? Or have they run out of ammo and fuel? Spill everything you know and you get to live another day.”
    “Gunnery Sergeant Stuart,” Kramer sighed. “You do not need to keep threatening me. How many times must I state that fact?”
    “I could give a fuck,” Stuart said. “Keep stating it all you want. I’m going to keep threatening you because I want you to know that you only have a future with us because I allow it to happen.”
    “How very democratic of you,” Kramer smirked. “I’m sure your fellow survivors would love to know that’s your attitude. Do they have a future as well because you allow them to?”
    “Blah blah blah,” Stuart said. “Just tell us what you know.”
    “Fine,” Kramer said as he coughed and tapped at his chest. “May I