I wake up facing the wall and it takes me a second to place where I am.
I sit up and look around and see Quentin laying on his own pallet on the other side of the room.
I shakily get to my feet and I'm happy to find that the room is spinning a little less than it was the night before. I start to ease my way to the table, and the further I go, the easier it gets. I make it to the table and I see my back pack with all my stuff in it.
I open it up, and look to see what I have. I have a pretty good supply of shells and cheese, but other than that, I'm seriously lacking.
I start to take little bits of food and storing it for the trip ahead of me, careful not to take too much.
"What are you doing?" Asks a sleepy voice, as Quentin stretches and heads over to me.
"I uh, I'm packing my bag. Like you said, it would suck to have my braces on forever, so I'm going to my orthodontist's to get them off," I say as I continue to pack everything up.
"You can't go on your own! Your concussed! You could barely make it out the front door on your own!" Protests Quentin.
I huff in exasperation and frustration. "I'll be fine, Quentin. I've handled myself fine so far."
"Yes. That's why you were being followed by infected and you ended up getting hit with a crowbar. That makes perfect sense," replies Quentin, his voice drenched in dry humor.
"Quentin, why do you care? Everyone else has died, so why does it matter if I do?" I'm starting to rant a little bit.
"Because it just does," he says solemnly.
He drags a chair over in front of the door. He sits down and crosses his arms with a determined look on his face. "Fine. Try and go. You'll never get passed me in your condition. And, if by some miracle you do, I'll just start yelling until I attract so many infected, it would be suicide to leave the building. But, if you'll let me, I'll be more than happy to pack up all the supplies and I could help you get there."
I give him a good long glare. There's not really much I can do except give him what he wants. "Fine," I mutter as I turn away.
He stands up and follows me over to the desk.
He grabs some backpacks from the desks and starts to pile all the food into them. I guess he isn't planning on coming back. He puts two blankets and two mats in one of the packs.
"Follow me. We'll need more than just food," he says as he leads me into the next room over.
He surprises me once again by the whole room being filled with homemade weapons and survival stuff. He has everything from rope to knives to homemade spears.
"Dude. Where did you get all this? The janitor's closet?"
"Yeah. How did you think I got the crowbar? Did you just think that the average 5 year old brings a crowbar to school in his backpack?" He asks sarcastically.
I load packs full of rope, knives, and anything else I think I might need. I grab a makeshift spear and I'm ready to head out when I realize that there's way too many bags for the two of us to carry.
"We'll have to take a car," I say as I start to carry bags to the door.
"Wait, what?" He says as he follows behind me sputtering and stammering.
"You can't drive! You're 15!"
I drop my bags at the doors and head back to get more.
"Well I have my permit, so I know the mechanics of it. It can't be the hard," I say, trying to convince myself as much as him, even though I try and play it off cool.
Just then a thought hits me. "Wait. You're 16. Can't you drive?" I ask him.
He starts to fiddle with the buttons on his shirt. He's looking everywhere but me and I can tell that he's trying (and failing) to act casual about it.
"Yeah, I'm 16 but I just haven't gotten my license yet."
"Okay," I say kind of under my breath but not all the way. I'm really bad about that.
We make trips back and forth until all of the bags are sitting in front of the doors.
"So, um how do we do this? Are we just gonna pull up or..." Quentin asks, voicing my thoughts perfectly.
"Why are you asking me? You're the smart one."
He squinted his eyes and bit his lip in concentration. All of the sudden his eyes popped open and a grin broke out on his face at the happiness of solving the problem.
"I've got it! We can sneak out and around Building C and to Building D. Then, we can go out the second story fire escape and boom. We're in the parking lot."
I let a small smile take over my face as I let his plan sink in. "Brilliant. It'll take a few trips, but if we hurry, we can be out of here in an hour."
I slip an extra knife into my bag and pick up some bags.
I nod at Quentin, who quietly slips open the door and we head out, heavy-laden with bags.
We run along the edge of the building in the shadows until we make it to the stretch of green in between Building B (where we had set up base in) and Building C.
I look at Quentin and start mouthing the countdown from three.
When I say 1, we both take out sprinting across the green and into the comforting shadows.
We slip around the corner and into the building.
"Stay quiet. I haven't checked This building yet," mumbles Quentin as we head up the dark steps.
We make it to the fire escape without any trouble.
Quentin has to use his shoulder to push the door open, but soon, sunlight floods the dark hallway.
We slip out onto the small metal landing and carefully maneuver our way down the rickety ladder.
We're now faced with the parking lot filled with abandoned cars that are already gathering dust.
I look out over the cars and scan the parking lot. There's a small group of infected on the other side of the parking lot, probably about 10 or 15 of them all together, but I think we'll be alright.
We slip through the cars until we come upon a decently sized minivan with a tank full of gas. I carefully pop the trunk and we start to fill it up.
We repeat this trip until the third row of seats is filled as well as the trunk.
We finally gather up the last of our things from the school and close the doors on our way out. We follow our regular path and we are once again at the little blue minivan.
We throw the last of our bags in the car and shut the doors.
"So, um lets get going," I say awkwardly as I climb into the car and adjust the steering wheel and seat so that I can still see over the windshield and touch the pedals. As I do, I once again wish that I had been born taller.
I turn the keys and the car roars into life. I click my seatbelt before uncomfortably putting the car into gear.
I start to ease forward, but my foot goes a little to hard and we're shot forward, narrowly missing another car.
I ease us out and I'm kinda getting the hang of it.
We slowly pass by the infected, who trail behind us before falling off and getting left wandering in the road.
I jerkily turn, heading towards town. There's no way I'm about to go anywhere like this. This dress is not meant for orthodontist appointments.
--------------------------------------------
Hello earthlings.
So. That happened. I hope you liked it! Don't forget to be active!
~Maddie💜
