The Wolves ✓

9; crossfire

Freya crawled to the other side so that she was close to the door and leaned forward just enough to see who was in the bar. She was terrified as she started to realise the seriousness of the situation they were in. Leaning back, she pressed her back to the wall and closed her eyes for a moment, the gun still firmly in her hands.

The Wolves were here and part of Freya suspected that they were followed all the way to town. It couldn't have been a coincidence that they'd be in the same bar as them.

Freya and Greg waited patiently until they finally left.

"What do we do now?" Greg asked, readjusting his legs so that he was cross-legged.

"We wait and then we finish what we came here for. We didn't come all the way out here for them to chase us away."

Greg stayed silent though he thought Freya was making a mistake. What would supplies matter if they weren't alive to use them?

Waiting for another five minutes, Freya stood up and placed the gun behind her belt, pulling her hoodie over it. Greg watched her, slightly disturbed that his sister was now armed. They walked out of the room and looked down at the bodies of the men who were murdered minutes before. Freya wasn't sure how many more dead bodies she'd have to look at before she was desensitized.

Greg stopped in front of one of them who had his leg tangled in the chair. He looked at the man's bleeding mouth where he'd been shot, leaving a gaping hole in his head. He felt dizzy at the sight and felt the room vibrate for a fraction of a second before Freya pulled him out of it.

"Hurry up," Freya whispered from the door.

Greg slowly dragged his eyes from the body and followed his sister out of the bar and into the street. They cautiously made their way into the parking lot and then ran across the main road.

"Where are we going?" Greg asked, his hands behind him on the brick wall that he was leaning on.

"You'll see, follow me," Freya said and then ran again with Greg not far behind.

Finally, a clearing came into view and Greg read the sign. He looked at Freya who was staring at the shop. "Pharmacy," she smiled to herself.

The pair ran past the trees and to the pharmacy, pushing their way inside. Freya looked around, relieved that nobody was inside. Greg pressed his hand on the wall, completely out of breath.

"What do we need?" he wheezed.

Freya glanced at him and then shrugged, "Rest up, I'll go see what they have."

Greg didn't need to be told twice and sat down on the spot.

Freya walked behind the counter and looked at the medicine. After a while, they all began to look the same. She grabbed two boxes of anti-histamine tablets and then a couple of bottles of multi-vitamins. It reminded her of her mother for a second as she put them in her bag.

She walked over to the antibiotics, reading the labels. Part of her wished she knew what they were for but went ahead in picking up a large amount of the most familiar ones .

"Come on, Freya," she mumbled under her breath. "What else do we need?"

Freya looked around and then suddenly saw a bunch of pads near the feminine hygiene section and her eyes widened. It had been so long that she'd been able to find any and after months of using toilet and kitchen tissue rolls, she was grateful to have found some proper sanitary products. She grabbed all of them, leaving none behind and stuffed her bag full of them. If she used them wisely, she'd be able to get a longer use out of them.

After some time of searching, both Greg and Freya froze at the sound of more gun shots but they were quite distant this time. Greg looked at her and they both got to their feet.

"I think we should go home now," Greg said.

Freya nodded, "Yeah, we probably should."

They left the pharmacy, their eyes searching the area within sight. There was nobody there except them and the gun shots had ceased. 

"Come on," Freya said, pulling Greg into the forest. "Stay close."

Running past the trees, gunshots were heard again and they continued for a while before silence fell. Greg tried his best to keep up but when he thought that he'd collapse from exhaustion, a final gun shot was heard and Freya turned around in shock. It was so loud that Freya immediately felt disoriented for a long moment.

Greg's small body stumbled backwards and then finally fell to the floor with a thump. Freya looked back up and saw a filthy shirtless man, dressed in jeans standing not too far from them. And then she saw the gun in his hand and his disgusting grin.

Another gun went off and Freya stifled a scream as she watched the mad man fall to the floor.

Greg passed out instantly from the pain in his right leg and after what seemed like hours, Freya reached him and shook his body, crying and blubbering.

"Greg!"

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