The Ruins Of Tomorrow

07. New Faces

I strolled past the sharp branches as tiny thorns poked at my flesh, blood dripped down my elbow as I tried to pluck them out. There hadn't been any noticeable signs of poison ivy yet, as they appeared to be harmless like most plants. I kept a lookout for glossy coverages on leaves or the middle leaflet longer or pointed tips.

Thomas was leading the way, and he was lucky enough to walk through without struggling like I was. The injury on my arm was still visibly red and purple, and it ached terribly. It had stopped bleeding through the gauze, which was the plus sign.

We'd been traveling without sitting down for another break. We had to keep moving, in order to stay at a safe distance from the horde. But we still needed food and water. Badly.

Our eyes caught the old-looking sign before we reached the end of the highway. It was in bold letters when I read "Terrenceville", nine miles left. By the time we reached a checkpoint, my arm was aching once again.

"Are you alright?" Thomas asked.

I simply nodded, rubbing my arms to keep warm.

We arrived in a small neighborhood to search for any supplies. Though my body wasn't doing the best, and I started to shake from how low my blood sugar was. Sweat built up around my forehead and neck, and I couldn't concentrate where my feet were going until we were inside some living room area and it smelled like cardboard boxes.

The air was getting chiller by the day. Temperatures kept dropping more and soon the orange leaves would fall down as they would crumble. My black jacket kept me decently warm, but by the time it was late afternoon, I would shiver uncontrollably and my hands would feel like icicles.

Thomas hit the jackpot when he found three water bottles under the kitchen cabinet and two cans of mixed vegetables. He opened the other cabinets and found canned tuna with salty crackers. He shoved everything in his backpack as his back was facing towards me just when we heard a creak.

He held his pocket knife in his palm and turned around slowly to find me still and frozen. I couldn't move as the barrel of a gun touched my lower back. I had my hands up in the air and I saw Thomas move from the corner of my eye as he hid behind the island of the kitchen.

"Turn around," said the voice.

I did what he asked and with full caution, I turned my body to face a man with a baseball cap. The man's eyebrows brushed together as his lips parted like he was surprised or something. He still kept his gun lifted, but slightly lowered it as it was away from my face now.

I didn't lose sight of them as he stepped back until he was out of the front door. The man's blue shirt was smothered in blood as if he killed a couple roamers just recently and I couldn't help but notice his beer gut belly, and an ax hanging on the side of his pants.

"It's a fucking kid, Lia," the man yelled over his shoulders as I heard another set of footsteps outside. "I can't point a gun at a kid—"

His focus wasn't on me anymore. I quickly lifted my hand to snatch my pocket knife as I dashed through the door and held my knife up to his neck. I had my other arm wrapped over him as the man gasped, letting his hands go up in the air as we stumbled back inside the house.

He began to sweat and I could feel how fast his heartbeat was accelerating as his words came out in stutters. "L-look here kid, I-I wasn't going to hurt ya!" He pleaded.

The set of footsteps traveled up the front porch steps as I saw a shadow enter the room. I tried lifting my chin to see a girl standing with a backpack over her shoulder. "Jesus Christ, what kind of trouble did you get yourself into again Gerald?" she said.