The Ruined Ones

Chapter Five

They hadn't been swamped with choice for baby clothing and accessories. It was never going to be like just going out and plucking whatever pleased her from the shelves—Katrina knew that. Still, she had hoped for more.

In the seven months since they'd left their home, embarking upon the flight of fugitives, they had traveled over 1700 Km and come across less than thirty homes that hadn't been destroyed or were already cleaned out.

Basically every town and city they'd happened upon, had been burnt to the ground—one of the extra-small, rural towns hadn't been burnt out, but it was empty and trashed; it's one shop and three houses already cleaned out.

At the beginning of their journey, the fires continued to burn in some places, or at least the ashes still smoldered. Now, after enduring the pass of summer and autumn, the remnants of these eviscerated towns were as cold as the death that befell most of their citizens.

One day, they dared to enter one of the burnt-out cities, hoping they'd find something of use that had survived the flames. What they found, was a man with a hunting knife, demanding they hand over their supplies. He seemed determined to rob them, unfazed by the fact they all had guns while he had nothing but a knife. It didn't seem to matter to him; his mind had already started to crack, revealing a reckless, desperate man seeping from the fissures of his damaged sanity.

When he charged at Katrina, his yellowing teeth bared like a wild animal; knotted, filthy hair falling over eyes drowned in madness, Shaun didn't hesitate. He took the shot.

The man took one bullet in the chest and a second in the head to relieve him from pain. He was the first person Shaun killed, and for a long while, the last face he saw every night before he slept—that was, on the nights he actually did sleep.

The past week had been peppered by rain, and although this day had been blessed by mostly sunshine, the weather had been gearing up for another vicious night assaulted by thunder and lightning. Midday's gentle breeze had augmented into evening's gusting wind, continuing to worsen as the thunderclouds of a rain flooded storm rolled in off the horizon, smothering the sunset.

Katrina was sitting in the living room of the house they were currently sheltering in, sewing by candlelight. In one of the houses, they'd come across during their travels, she'd found a sewing kit and put it straight in her bag. They hadn't managed to find many baby clothes and the items they had found were too big for a newborn.

With the sewing kit, at least she could take any piece of clothing, sheet or blanket and make her own baby-sized clothes. As she sewed, she mentally inventoried all the baby necessities they'd collected together so far. Not a lot—some nappies that were too big, a little formula, a couple blankets and bottles.

Now, looking at what she had made, Katrina was quite happy with all she'd done that night. She'd finished off a jumper and pants set she fashioned from an extra-large sweater, as well as getting two nappy covers out of the remaining material.

She was getting up to grab a spare towel she'd found, planning to cut it up into diaper-sized squares, when she was brought back to her knees by an excruciating pain that hit her as if by the kick of a horse.

It was time.

She called out to Shaun, who had been alternating his position in the house between each room, keeping watch from the windows at the east and south sides of the house, while Lewis did the same on the north and west.

Her husband came running, seeing Katrina sitting on the floor, propped up against the couch with her hands on her heavily pregnant belly, he knew what was happening.