The Wolves ✓

2 ; strangers

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The following morning, Freya pulled back her uncombed hair into a pony tail. She still felt cold from her morning shower, her nose slightly pink as she continued to sniff and rub it. Carrying a plate with a boiled egg and a glass of water in her hands, she entered the bedroom.

She set them on the small glass table and placed her hand on Greg's shoulder, gently shaking him.

 "Wake up, sleepy head. I made you..." she paused and looked down at the plate in dismay. "Something of a breakfast."

Greg squinted and stretched his body, not wanting to face the day.

"Here, put this in your pocket," Freya added, handing him her pocket knife.

He gave her a look.

"Better safe than sorry."

Finishing his breakfast, Greg did as he was told. He put the knife in his pocket and pulled on his trainers after a visit to the bathroom. 

"Remember what I told you," Freya said with her hand on the door handle.

Greg nodded, "Stay silent, stay close and stay alert."

"Good boy, let's do this," Freya said, taking a deep breath.

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Greg picked up three cartons of milk while Freya looked at the melted bed of ice that rotten fish lay on. She grimaced and pushed the trolley ahead, towards the canned foods.

 "You might want to check the date on those," she said over her shoulder.

Greg put the milk in the trolley thoughtlessly before wondering off towards the fruit and vegetables. There wasn't much to look at since a lot of them appeared to have turned bad.

Freya dropped a number of cans into the trolley and turned around.

She spotted the sack of potatoes and dragged them before plopping it into her trolley, too. 

"Greg?" she called out.

"Greg?"

No reply.

She left the trolley and walked to the next aisle and then the next. That was when the panic began to set in. 

"Greg! Greg!"

Still no reply.

Freya ran between aisles, her eyes frantically looking for him in the empty store. "Greg!"

Walking out of the aisle of alcoholic beverages, Freya froze when she saw a large bearded man crouched down in front of Greg. Her eyes widened when she saw the gun in his hand.

"Get away from him!" she yelled.

It was then that she noticed a group of men enter the store from the back room. They looked as surprised as she was.

The man next to Greg stood up, his gun drawn, "Come here. Stand next to him."

Freya glared at him but did as she was told.

"What are you?" he asked.

"What?" Freya asked, bewildered.

Someone made a noise from their throat, "Diego, they're human."

"Impossible."

"Do I look like a leprechaun to you?" Freya asked.

Greg's eyes widened as he glanced at Freya, alarmed. Had she lost her mind, he wondered.

Diego narrowed his eyes at her. "You think you're funny?"

"How did you survive the smoke?" the other man asked instead, silencing Diego.

Freya looked between the men, "I could ask you the same question."

"Ease up with the attitude there," Diego waved his gun at her threateningly.

Freya glanced at Diego and then back at him, "We were in hiding."

"Nah, the smoke would've gotten you inside a house."

"Not in a house," Freya replied, hesitantly.

"Then?"

"We found a spot in the woods, it's hidden away from sight that's why they didn't go there."

The man with the baseball hat came forward, "How old are you guys?"

"Fourteen," Greg answered all too quickly and received a look from his sister.

Baseball hat guy raised his eyebrow, "And you?"

"Nineteen," she said, finally. She supposed stranger danger didn't apply to situations like these. 

"Any family? Group members? Are they here, too?"

"No, it's just us," Freya said.

With no further reply, Freya spoke up again. "Can we leave? We just wanted some food, that's it."

"You going to let them leave with our stuff?" Diego asked his group member in a lower voice.

Billy fixed his hat and sighed. "Look, this store is ours. Everything in it is ours. So you can take what you came for but if you return after this, it'll be stealing. And we don't spare thieves."

Freya nodded, slowly.

"Victor, escort them out," Billy said, his eyes still on Freya.

Freya held her brother's hand as she walked back to the trolley, upset that she hadn't put more stuff in before. Pushing the trolley, she was led outside by Victor.

"Heads up, smoke's coming up from the horizon," Victor grinned at the siblings before closing the store door.

Greg looked up at the sky, his heart almost stopped. 

"Freya-"

What on earth, Freya was petrified.

"Why is it here so early?" Greg's voice cracked slightly.

"I don't know-"

"Freya-" Greg mumbled worriedly.

Her heartbeat quickened and she looked at him. He knew what that look meant. They were screwed.

"We have to hurry."

They both began to run, racing against the smoke.

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