Rare

12th part

Today it was Namjoon who had gotten the task of retrieving some more food from the dumpster. They usually took turns on who went. Sometimes all three of them took the trip, sometimes two of them together and sometimes, like today, one of them went alone. They tried not going there too often, as it was close to population. A population that might, and might not want to kill them. Recently though, their trips had grown in frequency. Namjoon had to admit that even if it was a pretty safe and steady food source, there had been times when it had led to them becoming ill. It really shouldn't have been a shock. They were eating food from a dumpster. People weren't supposed to eat food that had been thrown out. Even if it was still good.
Mold spread quickly. They had learned that the hard way.

With the increasing amount of trips, they had also grown more picky and careful, which really wasn't a good combination for the steadily worsening quality of the food the closer to the bottom of the metallic bin they came.

Then again, what choice did they have? They couldn't afford to be sick from bad food, especially not now when Jimin was out of count with a raging fever. He had barely even stood up the past two days. The bullet wound in his arm had grown infected, and despite them trying their very best to treat their inflicted wounds, the infection had started to spread at an alarming pace.

Namjoon shuddered uncomfortably from the cold weather as he skimmed through the dumpster. It hadn't snowed in a while, but the temperatures were still low and a nasty wind had bothered them the last few days. Luckily the wind seemed to have died down a little today, and a deep fog had taken its place, much like the one that had helped them escape from school that night. The fog of a white hand had grabbed a hold of the land, stopping time and putting an invisible pressure on the nature in its grasp. A good thing was that the wind had made some of the snow go away, so even in the white coat of fog that took its place, the ground was now mostly bare. That still didn't change the fact that they did not have clothes that were meant for this kind of weather. Or any weather at all. They were clothes that were supposed to be worn inside and the wind and snow had been cold. Meanwhile the current fog seemed to leave Namjoon almost damp. If nothing else killed them first, the weather would for sure be the end of them.

As he looked over the food in the big dumpster, it seemed like it had actually been filled recently, so there was a fresh layer of different types of waste covering what Namjoon knew was rot. Some loaves of dark, quite fresh looking bread instantly caught his attention and he reached out to grab them.

The thick mist had made today's trip to the dumpster a bit more tricky, but he had managed. Now, he only had the trip back to worry about.

He exhaled shakily as he looked over at his wounded arm. Jimin wasn't doing good, they all knew it and if his fever didn't die down soon, it would only be a matter of time before he passed. Namjoon knew he wasn't doing much better himself either. They had tried their best, they really had, but with the lack of proper resources, none of their injuries had healed in the slightest. He hadn't told the others yet, but Namjoon too noticed the start of an infection in his arm, and the pain got worse by the day. There was no way he would tell them. He didn't need to worry the other two any further. Jimin was already at the brink of death, the last thing he wanted for him to be sad as he left.

Namjoon almost shed a tear as he clenched his good hand around the bread tightly. He forced them back, forced himself to be strong.

A sudden, loud clank of metal  filled the silent fog and Namjoon quickly whipped his head around, only to see that the lid of the dumpster had fallen back down, making the ear shattering sound notify the silent world of his presence.

"Who's there!?" A loud and somehow familiar voice echoed through the air. Namjoon panicked, looking around to every side to make sure he was clear before he ran off again. He mentally decided  to take the long way back in case he was followed. Namjoon had sprinted forward, but was suddenly stopped as he bumped into something hard. He didn't know what it was, as he had closed his eyes in reflex as he made contact.