To The Grave

Chapter 42. Marty. Day 175.

I looked into a store's broken window as I walked past. Inside was toppled over, dusty and torn apart. I looked over my shoulder, seeing Winona stopped, looking at a mannequin. Her small hands pulling her hair in front of her eyes.

A body moved against hers, shaking her from her trance. I look in front of me. Seeing my mom and my brother talking softly. My mom listened to Ferris, not saying anything is response to his quiet whispers of treason.

"We should leave-" His voice pushed out, fading out as he took another step forward. "They don't need to know- Take what we need- While they sleep-"

I blocked out my brother, tuning into my only friend's soft hums. An old Blink-182 song. He pushed his crooked glasses up his face as he looked in the shop windows.

We had been walking for a few hours. The sun was beginning to peak in the sky. "Stop." A voice called out. I turned to look at Victor, seeing him emerge from Kennon's truck.

"Supplies run. We need food, weapons and gas. Let's go." He shouted.

The small children gathered together near one of the vehicles. Two women stayed behind as everyone else dispersed, watching the kids. I moved across the street to a gas station. Some people were beginning to siphon the gas into red containers. I pushed the doors open to the store. I looked over the counter, jumping it and looking around. The register was broken on the floor, bashed open with nothing left inside. I pulled the last two remaining packs of cigarettes off the wall. I looked under the counter for any lost and forgotten bottles of water.

"You find anything." Victor's voice echoed in the small building.

I shook my head, looking at a brown wrapper on the floor. "I don't think there's much left to find." I moved my foot against the wrapper, feeling the hard candy bar inside.

"Search harder, kid." He growled to me, turning back to the street. I bent over, picking up the Snickers bar.

I pulled it open, smelling the chocolate. "Maybe you should find your own food." I took a bite, feeling the candy break under my teeth,

Randall moved into the gas station, his eyes widening at the sight of the candy. I held the last half out to him, watching as he rushed forward, stuffing it into his mouth.

"I miss candy." He choked out, still chewing.

"I miss not being afraid of dying." I yawned.

He smiled, "The small things." He grabbed his backpack off the ground, moving back out to the street. People were spread apart, gathering whatever little bit of supplies they could scavenge from the broken in buildings. I fixed the straps on my aching shoulders, moving back into the sun's warmth.

Winona stood close to my brother, shoving something into her pocket. She looked around, guilty of something. Ferris held a short knife, talking to someone.

Kennon was near a gas pump, spitting violently on the ground. Gasoline poured from the hose in his hand into the red container. He dawned a black eye and a bruised lip, trophies from the fight the other day.

"We're heading out, get back in formation." Victor yelled to everyone.

Formation. Everyone cowering between Victor's gun-toting men and the trucks. I found my family in the crowd, listening to the trucks start up.

Everyone began moving. Ferris' hand wrapped around my arm, holding me in place. "We have to leave."

I shook my head, "I think they'd kill us, before they let us walk away."

"In the middle of the night, while everyone's asleep. We pack everything during dinner and save our food for the next day. I could get a gun. We could do it."

"Or get shot to death trying." I reminded him, walking with the crowd.

"Just have everything packed up tonight." He shook his long hair, moving to Randall.