Our World Is Slowly Dying

Who is safe?

Slowly, but surely, the food was running out. "Please say you have more food," Dexter whined.
"You're like a stroppy teenager, God!" Charlie complained and threw him a small packet of dried fruit. He chewed at it and spat it out.
"I know we're short on food, however that shouldn't even be classed as food," Dexter decided. Suddenly, Dexter started chopping at a tree with a machete.
"What are you doing?" Charlie asked curiously, rummaging through her ammunition packed bag for any more snacks. Dexter peeled the piece of wood off and slurped the gooey substance from the inside.
"What the hell?" Charlie asked.
"Try it," Dexter pointed towards her machete sitting in her weapon belt. She started chopping at the wood. She ripped the last bit off and slurped it. At first, it felt like slugs slipping down her dehydrated throat, but then the earthy, potato taste hit through and she enjoyed it. She kept drinking the liquid until Dexter stopped her.
"You'll get gas," he smirked and she pushed him, laughing. She wiped her mouth and continued to walk. They were trying to find a lake, to get some more water.
"HELP!" Someone cried in the distance. Charlie looked up, looking for where the scream came. Crows fluttered from the trees and she pulled Dexter's arm.
"Come on!" She pleaded.
"No, we can't," he explained.
"We have enough amo!" And in an instant, she ran off.
"Charlie!" Dexter shouted, and ran after her.
"OW" Charlie screamed and Dexter sprinted towards her. Lying on the floor, Charlie was trapped in an ankle trap, excruciating pain convulsed her entire leg. Dexter went to help her when he noticed a man, standing in front of him, a pistol placed on her temple.
"Don't move," he said. Dexter raised his hands, showing he was innocent.
"Dexter," Charlie whimpered.
"SHUT UP!" He shouted, and whacked her head with the gun.
"Get off her!" Dexter shouted and ran to knock him out.
Little did he know, a sniper was crouching in a bush behind him, and shot a nice big hole in his right calf.