The Wolves ✓

4; big bad wolf

Freya left the kitchen and ran to where Greg had pointed. There was a gap between the newspaper stuck on the windows through which she could see the front yard. She frowned as she couldn't seem to see anyone out there.

Leaning back slowly, she looked at Greg. "Are you sure you saw someone?"

"Yes, he was looking right at the house."

Freya crouched forward again and looked a little more carefully this time. "What did the person look like?"

"He looked like the guy from the store," Greg replied, solemnly.

Freya's heart stopped but she didn't show it and slowly rose to her feet.

"There's nobody out there, Greg," she said, monotonously. She couldn't reveal how terrified that revelation made her. There was a very big possibility that they had been followed.

"I know what I saw," he said, pushing her aside and then looking through the gap himself.

"Okay, okay. Just keep an eye out while I check on breakfast," Freya replied as she left.

She was scared not only about the possibility that someone was watching the house but that the stranger was in fact someone from the store they'd escaped from. It felt like a ticking bomb had been set on her and she could hear the slow tick sounds every time she allowed herself to listen to the silence. Plopping the eggs on to the plates, she turned the stove off. 

There was a sudden bang at the door. The ticking bomb, she felt, was now at her feet as she froze in place. There shouldn't have been anyone at the door. People just didn't knock in the apocalypse anymore. Because she didn't even know how many people were out there anymore.

Greg shot up straight, his heart thumping in his chest.

"Freya," he whispered and she quietly tip toed to him.

"Get behind the couch and do not get up until I tell you, okay?" she said as Greg quickly laid down, obediently.

Freya went back to the corridor when she heard a plant pot thrown to the door. It fell back broke on the porch. She nearly jumped from the intensity of the sound it made at the impact.

She looked through the key hole, her heart hammering in her chest. Looking at the three men, she recognised one of them from the store. Greg was right. They were followed back from the store. Freya immediately ran to the kitchen, she picked up the knife and put it in the pocket of her hoodie. She wasn't sure it would be enough to fight them. If they broke down the door, they would be completely vulnerable to the smoke. 

"Open up, we know you're all alone," one of the men finally said.

Freya went to the door and waved her hand for Greg to put his head down. "What do you want?" she asked, loudly.

"Oh we just wanna talk, come on. Open the door," he replied.

"Leave us alone, we didn't do anything wrong," she said, her voice shaking.

"We won't hurt you," he sighed.

"Why did you follow us?" Freya asked, scared by the notion that it had been that goddamn easy.

"Your story smelled like horse shit. We had to come and see for ourselves now, didn't we? Can't blame us for that. Seems awfully strange that you two have survived this long and without a group even."

Freya stayed silent, her palms starting to get sweaty.

"What the fuck?" Billy said as he attempted to touch the door. It was like an invisible force pushed him back, preventing him from breaking the door down.