Alamort | Troy Otto

2.4

[2.4]

"What now?" asked Troy as he entered the kitchen.

Thena was trying to see if the oven still worked, or if the other cooking facilities of her kitchen were still in use. They didn't try it before, only eating the canned food they had from their trip. She turned away from the failing oven and her eyes settled on Troy. He was leaning against the doorframe, his hair damp from the shower he took. His shirt was missing, a small towel hanging from his shoulders. She turned away, returning her attention back to the oven.

"Depends," she started, leaning on the kitchen counter, "We could... stay for a few more days or... continue on the road."

She turned to look at Troy again, seeing him give her a small nod. "The sun's setting," he said, glancing through the kitchen windows, "we could leave tomorrow." The women remained silent for a few seconds before nodding, agreeing with the idea.

"So... where to?"

Thena pushed a few strands of her wet hair back, taking her eyes off Troy. She pushed herself off the counter and opened one of the cupboards, taking out a big map of the country.

"We could go north," she said after a few minutes of silence, making Troy walk towards her and glance at the map from behind her, "Tennessee, Kentucky, Indiana..."

"Or East," said Troy, pointing to the right part of the map, "Try to get to DC, see if there's some sort of government still in place."

"I doubt it," replied the woman with a shake of her head, "But it wouldn't be bad to try. We should get to Nashville, or Chattanooga, closer to us, and from there it's a straight way. Not as many big cities as the eastern road."

Troy leaned down slightly, staring at the map. "Yeah, you're right," he said, "less cities, less dead, less risk." Turning her head to look at him, Thena gave him a small nod. The man opened his mouth, a word she could not understand coming out, but he was interrupted by a crash in the house. Thena's eyes widened, and she reached for the closest weapon, which turned out to be a kitchen knife. Troy took his combat knife and squeezed it tight.

"Front entrance," whispered Thena, not taking her eyes off the corridor leading to the porch.

She started moving, slowly and steadily, towards the front door. Another crash resonated around them, making them both frown. Thena gestures to the corridor to her left and Troy nodded, leaving her with the small storage closet to her right. She tiptoes to it, the knuckles of her right hand turning white from the pressure. Her eyes glanced at the small, broken window next to the front door, small smears of blood covering the broken glass, making her frown. She turned to the storage room again and balled her left hand into a fist, banging on the door loudly. For a moment, she thought there was nothing inside, not growls or groans of the dead, but before she could open the door, she frowned at the silent weeps coming from the inside of the room.

Slowly, she opened the door. When the twilight of the setting sun shone through the window and inside the storage room, Thena's eyes widened at the sight. At first, something in her mind distorted the image of the child and she couldn't see anything else but her own brother. But as she frowned, her vision seemed to clear. A small girl was crouched in one of the corners, trying to hide behind a few boxes. Her yellow shirt, too big for her, was smeared in blood. Thena's eyes traveled from the girl's buzzcut to her hands, blood pooling out rapidly from a wide cut on her forearm.