Fungi- A Tale Of Two Warriors

Chapter one

(Alex) 
“Vi...viiiiiii!” Violet had opened her eyes and groaned softly.  
Today was supposed to be a supply run so we had to make haste before the others could awaken with the rest of us.
“Why do we have to go? Can’t the older people go?” 
Violet knew we were the only ones here who were able and willing enough to bring home enough to feed us all. The room was cold and the candles were going to go out in a week or so, tops.
I yanked her out of her old sleeping bag and she put her boots on. The air had been dusty as we took an exit out of the old museum. It's quiet,  the sun rising only an hour ago.
I remember that a depression happened a while back, apparently it left the country in shambles. When the sales market crashed, so did the government. Mass murder, grand theft. Cities burned, sickness spread and almost 75 percent of the population was wiped out in 2 years. In that time, scientists were getting deeper and deeper in the questioning of morality. I was born 12 years after it started. Today, we scavenge.
“Alex, Earth to Alex? C’mon, you can't be spacing out all the time, by the way, we’re here.”
In front of us, knitted with memories, were lined houses on empty streets.  We have been all around this city for years, scrounging for food. We are running out of places to loot. As I entered the far house immediately this one appeared to be…..off. 
Pictures covered every wall and Violet went past me to the kitchen. She swung the fridge open and a putrid stink came out. Violet looked over at me and jokingly gagged. Without a moment to waste, the fridge was closed and the cabinets were opened. This person had been a prepper. Cans lined end to end of the little compartment and Violet opened another drawer. The whole house was lined with food. We didn't take what was in the fridge of course. We hoped nobody would touch the rotten, moldy meat that was in there.
We cleared out the kitchen and made our way to the basement. Fireworks and all of my beloved explosives were in a small plastic bag near the corner. Violet broke me from my infatuation with the small amount of gunpowder by saying, “Guns! Alex look here!”
Sure enough, firearms were stacked, maybe by the fifth. Thank Jesus we brought two extra bags with us. I am hugging the rockets and firebombs while my partner is packing the rest of the house. Fifteen gas masks were hanging on the wall. I looked in the back room to see skeletons. Some had bits of decomposed flesh hanging. The walls were blackened and a group was against the wall, in a huddle. These people died of an explosion. Most likely set off by a child. The stench hit my nose and I slammed the door.
We decided that this is enough for this month at least and started to head  home. When Mary Ann sees us walking through the doors with our heads held high, she takes the bags and looks inside.
“Oh goodness gracious, my girls have blessed us again! Everybody, come down here and thank them for your supper!”
Her brown skin shimmered with the light shining through the glass. Mary Ann has been a mother to everyone. She is loved by the people she speaks to. Almost seconds later, mostly everyone in the museum was thanking us. The toddler trio, as we like to call them, came up to me and hugged my leg. 
Dinner was amazing, and Mary Ann gave us a toast and allowed me to keep the explosives to fiddle with in my room. She also warned me to be careful. No people are hurting now, because of the medicine we discovered in the bathroom cabinet. The museum is secure, not like we needed protection anyway, and the residents of the museum are not going hungry. 
This is one of the good days.