Oblivion {n.h.}

Chapter 53.

Steven's Point Of View:

White sheets cover the furniture around the room, as if ghosts sit under them, waiting for someone to find them just as we have.

Louis rips one off of the loveseat in front of the door, dust covering the air like snowflakes we'd seen just days before, and he throws it to a corner of the room, the leather couch looking brand new.

"Plan?" Lydia stands there, crossing her arms before us.

"Right." Harry says, looking to Kaya who sits on the floor by the couch, her knees pulled up to her chest.

"Yeah, so–" Kaya starts, and I relax against a counter that sits between the living room and kitchen. "Lewes, it's not far from Brighton where I believe you guys came from," the Pearl-skinned girl motions in my direction, "Thomas and I didn't want to believe Doctor Clarke at first, maybe thinking she was just desperate for people to find her and help her; the woman was always that way, but now we're the people in need." She sets down her hand as her sentence ends, and I sigh unconsciously.

"I guess that's all we can do at this point. I just don't see the point of leaving everyone else behind, probably zombie dinner right now." I tell her, thinking about how we left all of our friends right in Reed's hands.

"That's not the case, Thomas knows where to go and I'm sure as hell he at least has someone out of there with him." Kaya sternly tells me, obviously sure that her point is true.

"We all need rest, we've been running around like nutters for the past couple hours." Louis adds into the conversation, and I nod my head furiously at his statement.

I remove myself from the floor and make my way over to a doorway that lines the wooden wall to the left of the room, the floorboards creak beneath my feet as people lie down, covering themselves under the white sheets, becoming the ghouls themselves as they slightly whisper to each other and drift off to sleep.

I put my hand on the thin wooden wall as I enter the narrow doorway, little wood chips pricking my fingers as they collide with the wood.

A good sized room, only a king sized bed placed in the middle against the wall. The bed is the only thing in the cabin without a white sheet on it, it's green color already dusting from the air, no layered protection to go over it.

A white Winter sun shines through the window at the end of the room, lighting it up through the chilly morning, and I plop down onto the ugly bed, an imprint of another person not fitting to my own.

"You comfy?" Allison's voice speaks through to my brain, and I look up at the girl in the doorway. She stands therein the doorway just as I had before, with her dark hair escalating down away from her face, and her leather archery glove keeping her pale fingers safe from the prickly wood she holds onto.

"Could be comfier, this bed is older than my Nan." I tell Allison, sitting up and feeling the old quilt beneath my hands where they rest.

Allison looks down, her teeth glowing as she smiles, and she chuckles the slightest bit before returning her caramel eyes to me and my figure on the bed. "Nearly everyone's sleeping, sounds like a snore fest in there."

I laugh at her statement, scooting over as the petite girl comes and sits next to me on the bed, and we both lay back onto the firm mattress. "I can't stop thinking about everyone else." I tell Allison this time, staring up at the ceiling with some of her brunette hair tickling the side of my head.

"They're gonna be okay." Allison whispers in the slightest tone, whispering her words straight into my ear as if it was a song. "I know you're scared, you don't have to keep acting like you're not." This time I can hear Allison move, and I look over to see her body turn'd toward me, her palm resting on the side of her temple as she studies my face.

"I need to act strong; for them." I pause between my sentences, Allison's eyes bright in the bland room, bringing life to it without meaning to.

"You don't have to." She hold out her hand and touches my own, "They're stronger than you know." Now I lie the way she does, a hand on the side of my skull and my body turn'd to look at her.

Allison's lips quiver as she studies my face still, her eyes traveling up and down and up and down. She leans in, her eyes watching where my lips part open at her. "We're all stronger than you know." She whispers, our lips barely brushing together before the revving of an engine cracks the air like thunder in a lightning storm.

This followed by a gunshot, one of the front windows of the cabin shatters to pieces, Allison and I scramble out of the bed and into the loft, both my hands out beside me in the doorway.

"SHIT– GET DOWN!" Harry yells, hitting the floor beneath the couch forcefully, and looking around the room frantically.

The engine revs again and shouts can be heard from outside the cabin walls, many of them. Lydia sits against the wall near the window, and I make my way over to her where she takes cover.

The window is shattered and there's just enough of a hole for me to peak through, people running in different directions and creeping up to the house, someone sits in the front seat of a large truck, and steps on the gas, coming straight for the cabin.

"MOVE!" I scream, huddling over Lydia as wood crackles and breaks; the large vehicle just missing us.

Reed hops out of the passenger seat and begins shooting frantically at every body he sees through-out the room, he clutches his stomach as he violently pulls the trigger over and over again; he'd survived the gunshot.

"WHAT THE HELL! DOES THIS GUY EVER GET OFF?" Allison dives behind a couch as she screams, Louis not far behind her.

I get behind the protectant couch as well, kicking the window behind it with my foot, hearing Reed still scream loudly, and Lydia yelling at him as gunshots fly like airplanes over our heads.

The window cracks as my foot hits it, breaking reluctantly and allowing me to push the glass out of the way for me to hop out quick.

I grab Allison's arm and tighten the bag over my shoulder, Louis coming out like a bullet as we take off into the woods around the cabin.

"WHAT ABOUT HARRY?" Louis slows down a bit, looking behind himself as he starts to slow his run.

"He knows where to go." I grab his arm and sternly look him in the eyes, "Now come on."

He follows as he was ordered, and the three of us retreat into the woods, Lewes, still several miles away.