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Never Return

The picture above is what I imagine Vern looks like. (You'll find out who he is in this chapter.) I got it off of Google Images lol.

Flashback

Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. Don't stop. Keep going. They won't stop. They can't stop. So I can't stop. Run or die. Not both. Jon can help. No. He can't. Jon's dead. I have to make it to Ruth. Wait. No. She's dead, too. Go to Tony. No. He betrayed me. Susan....poor Susan. Don't cry. There's no time. Run. Keep running. I can't stop...Susan wouldn't want me to. She'd keep going. But dang I'm hungry. No. She's keep going. She'd find strength...somehow...somewhere beneath her small, pale frame. Ah! Pain! Ankle! Ripper! KEEP GOING! NO! NO! NO! SUSAN! HELP ME!

"Fawn?"

What?

"Fawn?"

What's happening?

"Fawn! Wake up! You're gunna get us both killed! Fawn!"

The redhead bolted up from under her thin blanket to face Vern. His black, army-short hair glistened in the moonlight. His jaw and left side of his face were the only parts beside his left hand that weren't dark in the shadows of the black, beat up truck.

"You were dreaming, Sis," Vern soothed.

Fawn's heart was beating rapidly. Sweat poured down her face and arms. Her hair was damp. She turned to face her younger brother in the passenger side. His blanket was tossed on the floorboard, probably from trying to wake her up.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to," she shook.

"It's okay," Vern soothed. "You don't really have much control over dreams. That's how dreams usually work, right?"

"Yeah," Fawn chuckled. Her face became solemn once more.

"It was about Susan again, wasn't it?" Vern concerned.

She exhaled deeply. "Yeah. It was," she admitted.

Vern leaned in and hugged Fawn. "It's okay," he whispered into her short hair. "We'll be alright."

"You don't know that," Fawn murmured.

"Maybe not, but for now, we're alright."

"Yeah. You're right. You're always right," Fawn laughed once again as they pulled away from the hug.

"That's what little brothers are for, right?" Vern giggled.

"You're such a pain in the neck sometimes," she smiled as she playfully rolled her brown eyes.

"Hey, Susan's gone, so somebody around here has to be."

"Don't joke about that," Fawn ordered.

"What?" Vern asked. "It's been over a year. She's gone, and we gotta cope with it somehow."

"Yes, we have to cope, but she was your older sister. She was our older sister."

"I know, Sis. It's not like I have amnesia. I'm fine. I remember her. I spent almost eleven years with her before she-"

"Don't even say it," Fawn interrupted.

"What? Died? She died in front of our eyes. I watched it happen as that ripper tore her apart piece by piece and ate her from the tops of her black head to the ends of her feet with chipping, teal nail polish still on her toes. I REMEMBER!" Vern yelled.

"I didn't say you forgot!" Fawn shouted back.

"Sure sounded like it to me!"

"Well you must be deaf then!"