Alva stopped walking.
She didn't hear footsteps — she felt presence.
A different kind of pressure in the air — not crawler-animal — not rage-mutant.
Human.
She raised her spear a little and turned toward the broken service alley.
"Don't hide," she said flat. "I already know you're there."
A tall figure stepped out from behind the overturned delivery van.
Dark hair, sharp jaw, eyes that scanned her the same way she scanned him — not flirt — not fear — assessment.
He kept his hands visible.
Smart.
"I thought you were another scavenger," he said.
Alva looked him up and down — boots reinforced, gloves tactical grade, jacket torn from fighting.
Not a civilian.
And not useless.
"What do you want?" she asked.
He shrugged slightly. "Information. Food trade if possible."
Alva pointed her spear at the ground between them. Boundaries.
"Don't approach."
He smirked — not cocky — more like impressed she wasn't scared.
"Understood."
They stared at each other for two seconds — no blinking — two predators reading each other's intent.
He finally spoke again:
"My name is Kai."
Alva didn't give hers immediately.
"You're still alive so far. Means you aren't stupid," she said.
He let out one short breath — not quite a laugh.
"Same for you."
Alva didn't lower her weapon, but she eased her stance half a centimetre.
Small trust — not full.
"Are you alone?" she asked.
"Yes," Kai answered. "Groups fall apart fast."
That was true.
She nodded once.
"Good. I don't like crowds."
He stepped one step sideways, not forward — showing he respected distance.
"I heard metal clanging earlier," he said. "Could be a vehicle bay close. Reinforced builds."
Alva's eyes sharpened a little.
"…where?"
Kai pointed further down the street.
"Old R&D testing facility. Two blocks."
Alva let silence hang… then gave him the smallest hint of approval:
"You lead. I'll follow at spear length."
Kai nodded.
"Deal."
And that was it.
They moved together — not partners —
just two lone survivors temporarily aligned by purpose.