The Infected.

Chapter - 4 -

4.

My dad quickly went to bed after that, not mentioning it, but just making a harsh featured face, leaving me alone to over think like I usually do.

Placing my tea mug in the sink, I rinse it out before washing my hands, scrubbing them as if they were actually dirty before dragging my feet up the stairs.

Violet was fast asleep, deep breaths leaving her nose. I quietly struggled to push her over, but did it successfully before crawling in the bed beside her, even in her sleep her breath was constricted with pain of her lose.

"Fran..?" Her voice was soft and full of dry, sleepiness, she shuffled closer to me, cuddling up against my side and falling back into a sleep.

I let out a harsh but quiet sigh, my eyes squeezing closed as a tear slid down my warm cheek, turning on my side, I let myself fall into sleep.

~*~

I woke up groggy and to the sound of crying. I look over slightly confused to realize it was Violet. I rub her back until her cries stop and she's left puffy eyed and letting out small hiccups, like a child.

I get up to go downstairs soon after, leaving her to herself to put on her game face and return to the company of other people without breaking down.

I walk down the stairs to be greeted by my father packing out cans into a large black bag.

"Dad..?" He looked up at me briefly, flashing a small smile before continuing to pack. My brother sat perched up on the counter a few feet from him, watching.

"Dad says we're moving." I open my mouth to speak, before shutting it, and looking at my brother quizzically before my dad.

"Says something big is going to happen. He won't say anything else really, has been packing up almost everything." He gestured to the living room, my eyes following my young brothers gaze, noticing a small amount of boxes on the top of the dining room table.

"Why?" I finally mutter, my voice quiet and awkward to my own ears. "He won't tell me." He resorted bitterly, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes playfully at my dad who had half of his body in the storage door.

"Dad?" I question in a curious tone, tilting my head slightly to try and see him better.

He continues to empty little of what's left of the storage, before crawling from it and standing.

He tugs the bag on his shoulder before plopping it with the small amount of boxes atop of the dining table.

"What?" He mutters, fixing his shirt before pulling out his 'weapons drawer' something I haven't seen in months.

"What're you doing?" I pull out one of the chairs from the dining table, sitting on it and shifting to be comfortable.

"I'm packing, clearly." His tone is teasing, but it had small serious tone to it. He didn't even look my way. I run a hand through my tangled bed headed hair and shuffle on the seat, my pajama pants drooping.

"Why?"

"Did you not hear your brother?" His tone was snappy, not even giving me a glance. I step forward, slamming the weapon drawer shut, and glaring at him.

"I'm not going anywhere until you talk to me." My dad let out an irritated sigh, moving my hand and grabbing the last box of bullets.

"Max, leave the room please." Dad placed the bag on the counter as Max jumped from his seat, walking off into the living room, most likely going to eavesdrop.

My dads frame turned towards me, his hand cupping my face as he flashed me a strained smile.

"I forget that you're not my little girl anymore." With a croaky voice, his hand dropped from my cheek, my wild curly hair falling to the sides of my face.

"We're leaving the state, Fran." My eyebrows furrowed and I stared at him in confusion.

"If we don't, we'll never get out. Our state is no longer safe, and as soon as that gets around, they won't let us out, the roads will close, the people will go more insane then they already are.." His voice trailed off. I felt my lips quiver, my throat closing up as tears threatened to escape.

I nod, taking a deep breath through my nose and letting out a small cough, clearing my throat.

"I'll go pack some things." My voice escaped my lips in a raspy breath, my feet functioning before my mind even did, as I walked myself out of the kitchen and quickly up the stairs, ignoring my brother who yelled at me to watch cartoons with him.

I had found Violet sitting against the wall in which my bed was against, her blonde hair matted against her head, her eyes tired, and dark.

"You look like shit." I say teasingly, tucking some of my wild hair behind my ear.

"So do you." She smiles with strain, and I let out a dry laugh, shaking my head.

I pull my emergency duffle-bag from my closet, opening it to find things I once packed when this virus first became "popular."

Photos, boxes of crackers, a first aid kid, some clothes that most likely don't fit me well anymore sat limply and smelling of mildew.

Dumping the clothes from the bag, I keep the photos and crackers, Violet watching me silently.

I put in less clothes then my naive self did, as well as a flash light, matches, a blanket, and my compass.

Standing up, I go to my dresser, pulling it open until it unhinges itself from the backing and falls to my floor. Reaching deep inside, to the back of the wooden dresser, I feel around and sigh when my fingers make contact with the cool metal of a pistol.

I've gotten it awhile back, the young boy next door said it was his fathers. His dad realized someone had taken it. Not realizing it was his son who took it, the boy had hid it in his backyard. They moved a few years back and I went looking for it once our state for closed off.

Grabbing it I bring it from it's hiding spot, whom it's been since I first re-found it.

Violet looks at me with widened eyes but asks no questions as I place it too, in the bag.

Violets necessary things were still packed, seeing as she never unpacked last night, nor did I expect her to.

"Soo.." Violets voice trailed off as I sit beside her, against my wall.

"We're leaving." I say softly, staring up at the ceiling.

"Where to? Another house?" I laugh bitterly shaking my head.

"We're leaving the state, Vi. We're going to be alone." I hear her let out a breath,   before a hand makes contact with my own, a reassuring squeeze around my fingers.

"We're not  alone. We have each other, we don't need anything else." I lay my head on her shoulder, ignoring the blonde hair tickling my nose when I do.

"I sure hope so."

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A/N

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