I
Cynthia, for the longest time, has been afraid of being alone. She remembers the days of being a child before the sudden outbreak. Then, Cynthia didn't have much to care about other than her friends, her grades, and that shitty English teacher Mr. Calvin. Now, she wishes for it all back.
She's not truly alone. Cynthia has Andy, her younger brother, to at least poke a little fun at without her parents telling her to stop. Although, she wishes mom and dad were still alive. Cynthia had to grow up and be an adult for little Andy. No one else would.
Cynthia and Andy learned to rely on each other and never trust lone survivors. Mostly, everyone they encountered tried to rob them or leave them dead. The rare chance of meeting someone who isn't out to kill them usually dies in their hands or other means.
"This still looks good." Andy held the rusted can of what would be food. The label on the can was torn, scratched, and faded. Going down the aisle, Cynthia swiped the can from Andy's hand, inspecting the can further.
"It should still be good." Cynthia put the can in her backpack. "Cans should at least be okay if it hasn't rusted from the inside."
"Does it work like that?" Andy asked.
"To be honest," said Cynthia. "I don't know." Cynthia continued down the aisle of the small general store. Andy continues to go through the small cluster of what could be edible in the cans they find. Cynthia watches for any signs of life or anything of the undead variety.
Andy moves further down the aisle, down another row of empty shelves. Cynthia felt more worried that that rusty can could be all they're able to eat with more open shelves. Cynthia looks around the small general store in case they have missed something.
The further Andy went down the aisle, the more worried she got. Finally, Cynthia walked toward the store entrance. She looked out of the large, shattered window to a rundown street. Across the street was a row of storefronts that were barricaded or looted. The road had several broken-down vehicles and sandbag barricades, evidence that the town might still have supplies that the siblings couldn't locate.
Despite the assumption of supplies, the town seems empty to their eyes. Maybe other survivors scavenged the city years before them or they weren't looking deep enough.
"Let's go, Andy." Cynthia sighed as she gave up on searching. Andy stopped his search and grabbed his backpack.
"We didn't find anything did we?" Andy asked.
"I'm afraid we didn't find anything," Cynthia said. "That can of food you found is a very good find though, so good job."
Andy's stomach growled. "I'm starving."
"Me too, kiddo." Cynthia patted Andy's head. "We'll eat again soon."
Cynthia and Andy exit the store through the shattered front window. She surveyed the surrounding area, looking both ways down the street of the town. Cynthia quietly gave Andy the okay to exit the store, and the two set off out of town.
Cynthia was the older, and tallest sibling. Tied dark brown hair, under a ragged baseball cap, and her brown eyes were set behind a dark glasses frame with dirty lenses. Andy was about the opposite, with light brown shaggy hair and emerald eyes. Cynthia carried most of their supplies, while a short Andy would be slowed down with the bulk of their gear and his own.
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Downfall Of The Living: An Anthology Series
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