All Of Us Are Dead

Chapter 6 - Gathering supplies

We spent the next hour gathering supplies from the house, moving silently, like thieves in our own home. It felt wrong, but I knew it was necessary. There wasn't much time to think about anything else. I emptied my backpack, stuffing it with food, bottles of water, and a few of Mom's things. I couldn't leave without something to remember her by. I took a photo of her and Dad from their wedding and her favourite necklace—the one she never took off. It felt like I was leaving her behind all over again.

Jake, on the other hand, was all business. He moved through the house like a robot, packing essentials—first aid, water, canned food. He didn't hesitate, didn't falter. It made my stomach turn, the way he could act like nothing had happened.

I couldn't take it anymore. "How can you act like this?" I whispered harshly, my voice low but filled with anger. "Mom's in there, and you're just packing like you don't even care."

Jake stopped, his back to me, his shoulders tense. "I care, Ashta," he whispered back, still not looking at me. "But we don't have time for this. If we don't get out of here, we're dead."

"You're not even grieving!" I shot back, my voice breaking.

Jake turned toward me, his face hard but his eyes full of pain. "You think I'm not? You think I don't feel it too? I lost her just as much as you did. But if I break down now, if I lose it, we're not getting out of here. So yeah, I'm keeping it together because I have to."

My hands shook, tears burning my eyes, but I knew he was right. It didn't stop the anger from boiling inside me. I wanted to scream, to cry, but the noise from behind Mom's door stopped me cold. A thud. Then another. And the sound... that awful sound of her throwing herself against the door. Growling.

Tommie rushed over, his face pale. "It's the noise," he whispered, glancing at the door. "She reacts to the noise. We need to stay quiet."

We all froze. The banging subsided, but the growling continued for a few more moments before finally fading into eerie silence.

Jake and I locked eyes, both of us realizing just how dangerous the situation had become. There was no time to fight. We had to move. We had to survive.

Everyone continued gathering supplies, speaking only in whispers, if at all. Jake and I whispered about Mom, our words quiet and raw. He told me he was sad, that it was killing him inside, but there was no time for it. Not now. I wanted to be angry, but I couldn't. Not anymore. I was too exhausted.

Riley and Tommie filled everything they could with water—pots, jugs, anything we could find. Quin came up with the idea of weapons, and I could see Tommie nodding in agreement. We couldn't survive with just kitchen knives.

Dad finally spoke up. "There's a gun case in the garage," he said quietly. "I'll unlock it. There's enough there for all of us."

The words felt strange coming from him. He sounded so hollow, like he was barely there. But we needed those guns. So I let him lead the way while the rest of us prepared.

When we were ready, it was time to say our final goodbye to Mom. I stood there with Jake and Dad, staring at the door where she was trapped. The sound of her pacing behind it was haunting, the occasional thud reminding us of what we'd lost. Or were about to lose.

"I don't know what to say," Jake whispered, his voice cracking.

"There's nothing left to say," I replied, tears slipping down my face.

Dad placed his hand on the door, his fingers trembling. "I love you," he whispered through the wood. "I'm so sorry."

We reinforced the door as much as we could, hoping it would hold. That was all we could do now.