Girl's Doomsday Rebirth Revenge & Survive novel Chapter 329

329 Man-Eater

Caroline gave a faint, dismissive wave, signaling her desire to end the uneasy conversation with the man and rejoin Denton and Tyler. The tension in the air was palpable, and something about the stranger put her instincts on high alert. Her hand subtly drifted toward her waist, fingers brushing against the cold metal of her handgun, a silent readiness she couldn’t shake.

The man’s demeanor shifted as he noticed their intent to leave. His agitation grew palpable. “Wait, don’t go! I told you I’d give you the pelts! And food! Just come inside. Take whatever you want. I’m alone here; there’s no way I can use all this stuff. Please, come on.” His voice was overly eager, almost desperate, which only heightened the uneasy feeling Caroline had about him.

Exchanging wary glances, Caroline, Denton, and Tyler silently communicated their unanimous decision—none of them planned to step through that door. They weren’t cowards by any means; each was skilled and prepared for danger. But this man’s erratic behavior suggested traps or worse could be lurking inside.

Without uttering a word, they turned their backs on him and began to walk away, every muscle tense and alert. The man’s voice rose in a frantic crescendo behind them. “No! Don’t leave! I’ll give you everything, I swear! Take it all!” His cries grew more unhinged, fraying at the edges of sanity.

Still, no one responded.

Then, a sharp, piercing sound sliced through the air—a projectile whistling straight toward Denton, who was walking on the side.

“Heh… teen boys are the juiciest—” the man’s twisted murmur was abruptly cut off by the crack of three gunshots fired almost simultaneously.

The window shattered violently, shards of glass raining down, followed by the heavy thud of a body collapsing inside.

Caroline stepped forward cautiously, raising her collar to cover her nose and mouth against the stench as she entered through the broken doorway. The man lay sprawled on the floor, blood rapidly pooling beneath him.

Three bullets had found their marks—neck, chest, and collarbone. Blood pulsed grotesquely, especially from the neck wound, a direct hit to a major artery. Despite his grievous injuries, Luke’s hand twitched weakly, fingers curling toward Caroline as if to grasp her.

“Women… women taste… good… too…” he rasped, a savage glint flickering in his eyes before they dulled into lifeless emptiness.

He was dead. A thin, shiny trail of saliva glistened on his chin, mixing with the darkening blood soaking his neck.

“This guy… he’s been surviving off human flesh,” Tyler said grimly, stepping inside behind Caroline.

The man’s name was Luke Gaffner. Before the apocalypse, he was an unremarkable, slight-framed employee at this very tannery—a man who blended into the background and went unnoticed. When the world collapsed, he and five coworkers found themselves trapped inside the factory.

At first, they had some supplies to sustain them and clung to the hope of rescue.

But the food eventually ran out, and no help arrived.

In desperation, they boiled leather hides, but the taste was revolting—inedible even. Yet it was all they had.

Then, one of them died.

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