[ WP ] Fantasy zombie apocalypse : The rich and powerful have grown bored . For entertainment they bet on the remaining survivors `` out there '' .

`` What about that fat one down there?'' Candice swirled the bubbling champagne around in her flute and puckered her lips. `` How much is he worth as of now?'' 
 
 `` One hundreds and twenty-six dollars, *Madame. *'' Frédéric twiddled his handlebar mustache and jotted down some notes on his laptop. Each and every keystroke he made popped up on the overhead projector across the room. Everyone stared at the movie theatre projection screen and waited for him to finish his notes before placing any bids. 
 
 `` And... what about the child covered in filth?'' 
 
 `` Four dollars, *Madame*.'' 
 
 Among the richest of the group, Candice ran the show. This was her patented business, and even though the blood money came from the wealthiest of the nation, she had final say. 
 
 `` Bump the base bidding price on the child, Frédéric.'' She closed her eyes and whiffed the beverage before taking a delicate sip from the glass. 
 
 `` How much, *Madame*?'' 
 
 All the spectators sat in silence, astonished by the turn of the tide. 
 
 `` I have a feeling about that one. A good feeling,'' she said, placing her glass on the desk next to Frédéric. Candice had an eye for profit and unquenched thirst for American dollars. `` Start the bids at twenty-five thousand.'' 
 
 `` As you wish, *Madame*.'' 
 
 Subtle oohs and aahs escaped from the audience of spectators. Candice turned to face her customers and watched the freelance bookies scribble copious amounts of notes onto bidding sheets. Whispers turned to chatter, and chatter to raised voices. She clapped her hands together two times, and everyone went silent. 
 
 `` The bidding will begin in fifteen minutes.'' Her voice was robust, and the words she spoke traveled heavily across the hushed crowd. `` Please take a moment to excuse yourselves for a quick restroom break. Feel free to help yourselves to the exotic cuisine catered in the hall. If you have any special requests, *please* do n't hesitate to ask our head chef. My home, is your home. Thank you.'' 
 
 She finished with two claps of her hands and the crowd dismissed itself. 
 
 `` Are you almost ready, Frédéric?'' She ran the tip of her index finger along her delicate collar bone, and trailed it down the center of cocktail dress ending at her pubis. 
 
 `` Almost, *Madame. *'' 
 
 Candice stared out the window of the thirty-seventh floor and gazed into the wasteland below the overhung addition to the building. 
 
 `` We will wait for everyone to get settled before taking bids. Then, and only then, will they determine which supply crates to be sent out to the survivors.'' Candice smirked. `` Let's see what our clients wish upon that child, *yes*?'' 
 
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 Part [ two ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3p49ps/wp_fantasy_zombie_apocalypse_the_rich_and/cw386qn ), [ three ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3p49ps/wp_fantasy_zombie_apocalypse_the_rich_and/cw3b30x ) & [ four ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3p49ps/wp_fantasy_zombie_apocalypse_the_rich_and/cw3f5rm ). 
 
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