Turned » 5sos

0.3

We didn't reach the safe house until sunset. It was a small cabin-looking thing but it was bigger than it seemed. The actual inside of it was just one room but that wasn't the entire thing. There was a hidden hatch for a basement that was made out of concrete. That was where we'd sleep. I didn't know where we'd keep the infected we caught since I'd never seen more than three rooms in a safe house -- there was also a room for a bathroom.

"Alright, let's get settled for the night and go searching tomorrow." Ashton said, opening the door to the cabin.

The cabin had tiny windows that were high up, and a fireplace. In the basement, there were no windows, candle holders in the walls for light so we wouldn't use up our flashlight batteries, and another fireplace. It was simple but it was all we needed.

"Nothing seems broken in here." Calum said quietly as he walked slowly around the small space and examined it. "The walls don't seem to be breaking down and there's no blood or body parts anywhere."

"Body parts?" Michael asked.

"Body parts of the infected or those who were attacked by infected give off fumes when they decay," Luke explained, "which could infect you as well."

"You're in the top five and you didn't know this?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged, "No one ever told me because I've never encountered it."

"Okay, okay, stop picking on him." Ashton said. "Let's get downstairs and go to sleep, alright?"

Michael found the hatch and we descended the stairs. Ashton led the way with his flashlight and turned it off once he'd gotten a fire going. Calum and Luke went around the room, lighting the candles, while Michael and I got the beds ready. They were small cots that weren't exactly comfortable but it was better than sleeping on cold, hard concrete.

"So how old are you, Kit?" Michael wondered.

"Eighteen." I answered simply.

He chuckled, "You're the youngest."

I just shrugged.

"So what's your story?" he asked, looking up from the cot he was putting clean sheets on -- if the sheets, blankets, and pillows stayed down here for too long they got mildew so we had to change them every mission.

"My story?" I repeated, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, like, what happened to you when the apocalypse started." he shrugged. "What's your story?"

"My story doesn't matter to the mission." I stated, hoping that would just end the conversation.

"No, but it's nice to know." he offered nicely. "We're the top five so there must be reasons why we're the best of the best and I figure it because we're driven more."

"And you assume that because of what happened to you?" I guessed.

He nodded, "Yeah. My mom and dad were both infected. They came home that night and I had to stab my dad to keep him away..."

"Michael, you don't have to-"

"I know I don't have to. I don't care if I tell people the story, it doesn't upset me as much as it used to. It all seems like a lifetime ago anyway." he shrugged, seeming more detached. "So what's your story?"

I sighed and set down the blanket I was spreading, "I got home from school with my little sister. She had autism and I was supposed to look out for her. She ran inside while I was talking to Calum after he got to his house. We didn't know our parents were infected. My mom bit her and...we had to leave her behind."