Don't Whistle Past the Graveyard

Ch. Seventy-Two

We moved nonstop for four weeks. Everywhere we went there were too many zombies, not enough food, once we'd seen evidence of a large group who had moved through a place before we had. Evidence suggested they had headed south.

We went west.

Everyone was dragging. Just about everyone was injured.

Danielle had twisted her ankle jumping down from a retaining wall. Shane had taken a pretty nasty knock to the back of his head when a zombie had jumped out of nowhere, plowing into him and taking him down to the pavement. Cassidy had taken most of the skin off the palms of her hands skidding down a rocky incline trying to get to a stream for some water. Kyle had pulled his left hamstring badly enough that he almost couldn't walk when we had been going through some houses, and he'd heard Vik shout. 

She'd been startled by a feral dog.

They were the worst, but the rest of us had our fair share of scrapes and bruises.

After that, we'd decided not to try and screw around with the town we were on the outskirts of now. We were down too many people to be able to clear the place properly, and we wouldn't be able to move fast enough if we needed to, since two of us were gimps. 

But we needed something to eat. We'd gone three days already with nothing to eat. Tempers were running high and patience was running low. 

Shane glared at me across the small fire, watching as I checked the magazine of a newer gun we'd picked up. I had five rounds. Sighing, I said, "What?"

"You know what," he said, snapping a stick in half before he fed it into the flames. Kyle sat next to him, his leg stretched out toward the fire. It annoyed me that I didn't have a better way to apply some heat to the muscle. He still couldn't straighten it out completely.

He shared an exasperated look with me, his green eyes hollow in his face. Shane hissed under his breath at the both of us, snapping another stick. I raised an eyebrow at Kyle, who nudged his brother with an elbow, and said, "What she's saying is you need a Snickers, man. You get cranky when you're hungry."

I giggled at that, then couldn't stop laughing, no matter how hard I tried to choke it down. Shane flipped us both off, then said, "I don't think it's a good idea."

That helped me sober up some, and I sighed just a little dramatically. "Nothing's a good idea."

He looked darkly over my shoulder, and I frowned at him. "He's the only one I'm taking with me, Shane," I said, voice low so it wouldn't carry. 

"But—"

"No," I interrupted. Standing up, I walked around the fire, then leaned over and kissed his forehead. He looked up at me, eyes shadowed and a bit angry. I smiled and said, "The rest of you are too injured. I don't screw around with head trauma, neither Kyle nor Danny can walk, and Cassidy can barely pick up anything. Someone who's not handicapped needs to stay here."

"So why don't you leave him here and take Vik and Sacha with you?" Shane tried to bargain.

I just shook my head. Speaking even more quietly, I said, "Did you see Vik drop her knife the other day?"

He nodded.

"And Sacha's been having trouble sleeping because his stomach growls loudly enough to wake him up." I stood up a little when he flinched. I ran my fingers through his hair once, scraping it back from his face and said, "They're both struggling a little bit not eating. Aaron and I are the least hurt, so Aaron and I are the ones who are going."

"Will I just be wasting breath to argue?" he muttered.

I just smiled. Brushing my fingers against his face, I said, "We'll be fine. Back in a jiffy."