Desolation ✔️

Chapter 3: Deteriorate

One Week Later...

The sirens have stopped, which should be a relief. But no sirens mean no cops or ambulances, and no cops or ambulances mean no people to take care of. I've kept watch through the window in our room. For what, I'm not really sure. A rescue team? My parents? I don't really know what I'm hoping for.

"Disturbing" doesn't begin to describe what I've seen through the window: The Safe House gates remain locked, though people begged to be let in for days, screaming and crying and shaking the gates. I've counted twenty-four kids younger than thirteen. On several occasions I wanted to help them, but Carter discouraged it. Letting one in would lead to letting all of them in, and there's a reason the guards are being selective on who can enter: they don't want to catch the virus.

The virus cannot exactly be put into words. All I know—all there really is to know—is that it's not your everyday cough and fever. It's a virus that melts people's insides and alters their DNA, turning them into flesh-eating monsters. This, unfortunately, has become the fate of every last person who was shaking the bars of the gates. I haven't heard any shouts for help in days.

While the outside fell silent, the inside of the Safe House bleeds chaos.

It's impossible to sleep at night because everyone yells, shouts, cries, complains. People are upset that we can't keep weapons in here. No one can reach their loved ones. We don't have service, no one's allowed to leave. Carter and I spoke to his family one more time after our first night here, but we can't reach them anymore. It's no wonder Carter's been edgier than usual.

"Ugh, can you please sit down? You're making me nervous." I watch Carter pace back and forth across the room. He's wearing a clean t-shirt with the same sweatpants from when we first arrived.

We've been fortunate enough to have running water here, even though it's always cold. And we can't really ever leave the room unless it's to speak with Millie. Staring out the window relieves some of the feelings of claustrophobia, but Carter doesn't like looking outside. He just paces all day.

"No. I need to think," he answers curtly. He pauses for a moment and walks over the dresser to write something on a notepad.

I heave a sigh and lean forward with my arms resting on the back of a chair. "Think of what?"

"Something other than what's going on out there. Like how to steal food from the pantry."

I sit up straighter. "Wait, what?"

"It's safest to go at night. We're on the fourth floor, which is almost the top of the building. And we're at the end of the hall by the stairwell. I followed Millie down there the other day but they wouldn't let her pass without showing her card. And she even works here. They're giving us less food each day and hiding it in the pantries. I saw one of the SWAT members here the other day, and they gave him a whole case of water. I'm telling you, they—"

"Carter, stop. We can't just sneak into the pantry and steal food."

He sets the pen down and looks over at me sternly. "Who says we can't?"

"Well..." I gnaw on my bottom lip. "There are other people here who need it more. Children, Carter. And it's not right."

"It's not right? That's your reason? Open your eyes Scarlett. They're letting people die out there. All we're doing is taking food."

"Which can result in other people dying," I counter.

He inhales through gritted teeth and looks back at the paper, shaking his head. "It's not the same. If Millie had done the right thing—if she had followed orders and chosen to leave us outside to wait in line for scanning just like the rest of the people at the gates, we wouldn't be alive right now."

He has a point, but the idea of stealing straight from the place that's providing us with protection doesn't sit well with me. What would Millie do if she knew Carter and I were stealing? And what if we got caught? It would almost be better to just leave. We could try heading to Carter's neighborhood. With the sirens gone and people no longer fighting the gates, now is probably the best time to go.

If only they let us out.

I take one last glance out the window. Cars litter the roads beyond the gates so we'd have to trek on foot, but there doesn't seem to be too many of those creatures out there.

"We should leave."

Carter doesn't respond. I hear more scratching of pencil on paper, so I turn to look at him. He furiously writes more notes. "Carter."

"What?"

"Didn't you hear me? Let's go—"

"No." He sets the pencil down and rips a piece of paper from the notepad. "We're staying here and we're going down to the pantry once everyone's asleep."

It takes all I have to keep my voice level. "Carter, please, I know you're scared—"

"I'm not scared."

"But you are! That's why you want to steal food; you think there won't be enough. That's why you don't want to leave; you're afraid of what's out there!"

He glances over at the door and holds a finger to his lips. "Shh, someone might hear you."

"We can't be afraid. As soon as you give in to the fear, you can't think straight. You'll start to do things you regret."

"The only thing I'll regret is not taking a chance while we have one."

"Okay! So let's leave before everyone else gets the same idea. Ask Millie to sneak us back out. We don't have to steal anything. We don't have to pick sides. Don't you want to get back with your parents?" I pause suddenly. Just the thought of reuniting with my parents makes my heart ache because I know it will never happen. We were separated for two weeks, and just when I returned home, we were separated once again. This time, there won't be another reunion.

"We don't even know if they're still on quarantine, Scarlett. If they are, we can't get in and they can't get out. Where will that leave us? Wandering the streets with no food or water. The Safe House won't let us back in. We're staying here."

I hold his gaze and internally plead for him to change his mind. His crystal-blue eyes flicker between guilt and determination, but he shakes his head. "For now, we have to stay. Okay?"

If I could leave right now, I probably would. I look back at the window.

"And don't even think about going on your own," Carter says, his voice calm now.

"I won't," I say. "I'd never leave you."

He's shuffles next to me and leans against the window, peering out. "We have to stick together. I won't let anything happen to you. When the time comes, we'll go. Just not now."

I hope his words prove true. He's all I have left. He's my best friend and the only person I trust. We've known each other since middle school and I've grown to love him...maybe more than I realized before. Now that my parents are gone, I'm not sure how I can make it on my own.

Carter places his fingers beneath my chin and tilts my head up. "I'm so sorry, Scarlett."

I don't know if he's referring to his irritability, the decision to stay, stealing from the pantry, or my parents' death, but I nod anyway.

Carter leans down to hug me and I wrap my arms around his neck, nestling my face into his shirt. Even though he's wearing a clean shirt, he still smells like smoke. We hold each other like the world depends on it. I glance at the clock on the wall behind Carter, wishing time could rewind far back to the moment I first left to California.

And though I promised myself I would remain strong for my parents, I can't help but sob silently into Carter's warm embrace.