Torey approached the charred ruins of his parents' house, his steps cautious and silent to avoid attracting any nearby zombies. The acrid scent of smoke still lingered in the air, mingling with the decaying smells of the post-apocalyptic world. His eyes, shadowed by the remnants of soot, scanned the area for any signs of danger before settling on his younger sibling, who stood amidst the wreckage, their face streaked with tears and dirt.

"Hey, you," Torey whispered, his voice hushed yet firm. "Come here."

As his youngest sibling looked up at him, their eyes wide with a mixture of fear and hope, Torey knelt down, pulling them close, feeling the weight of their dependence on his shoulders. His heart ached with the enormity of the loss, but he forced himself to stay strong for the sake.

"I know things... they real bad now," he said, his broken English tinged with his rebellious spirit. "But listen, I got you. We stick together, yeah? I take care of us now. Ain't gonna let nothin' happen to you. We move quiet, stay safe," he continued, glancing around warily. "No more losin' family. We fight, we survive. Together. So... want to move around, make a camp or sum'?"