To The Grave

Chapter 38. Winona. Day 173.

I pulled a shirt over my head, looking down at the colourful design on it. It was my sisters, one of her favourites. I pulled my hair back, feeling the heavy weight of it all. My fingers wrapped a stretched out hair-tie over it all, pulling it tightly into place.

The tent was small, restricting my movement, making pulling jeans on a struggle. I pulled my dirty pink shoes over my even dirtier socks. I pulled the holster on, feeling it clip into place. I grabbed my knife, slipping it onto the slot behind the gun. I let out a long, deep yawn as I unzipped the tent slowly.

The air was cool, a slight fog covering the camp. A bright orange light came from the fire. I slowly walked over, looking at the large tent my brothers shared with Randall as I walked past.

I could feel the warmth radiating from the fire, moving the fog away. A young man sat in a fold up chair, his eyes surrounded by dark, deep seas of flesh. He was wearing the same shirt as yesterday, a black tee-shirt with a band logo in the corner. His jean short covered legs were pulled close to his body. Kennon looked up to me, his dull eyes reflecting the flames.

I sat down in a chair beside him. "You haven't slept in like three days."

"I find time." He whispered. He turned around quickly, looking through the scope on his gun.

"Two hour power naps between work and when everyone goes to sleep doesn't count. You're doing more damage than help." I shrugged, knowing I should be gathering water and bringing the food down from the trees.

Instead I remained seated beside the older kid. He had moved the gun down letting it rest across his legs, the barrel pointed away from me. He seemed focused on something, his eyes fixed on the dying fire. "My family has a habit of that."

"You had a family?" I asked, immediately regretting it.

He looked at me through concerned eyes, "Do you know anyone who didn't have a family?"

I rolled eyes, having realized my question was dumb. I stood up.

He grabbed my arm, "I had a family and we had more problems then, than now." He let me go, standing up to go back to his tent before everyone else woke up.

I carried a large water jug to a creek running down into the ocean. I held the large plastic container in the water, allowing it to fill. A small fish moved through the creek avoiding the jug, full with water.

A gun shot echoed through the trees. I looked around, my heart rate speeding up.

My sister's hand slammed over my mouth, her free arm wrapping around my waist, dragging me down the hallway. I was too scared to breathe, let alone scream. "Well hello-" A voice yelled from downstairs being cut out as soon as the bedroom door closed quietly.

Molly spun my around, squatting to my height. "Be quiet." She voice shook, rattling out of her throat. "Be quiet and let me think."

She spun around, falling quietly to the floor, her knees making a soft thud. She pulled a box out from under her bed, quickly twisting a lock on it, opening it up to reveal a silver gun. She pushed her bedroom window open, her hand moving rapidly, signaling me over. I rushed onto her bed, crawling out onto the roof. She moved back into the room, grabbing the pink and red baseball bat from its hanging spot on the wall, passing it through the window to me.

She moved out onto the roof, pulling the curtain to fall back over the window before pulling the glass closed. She quickly rushed to the side of the house, sitting on the slant. "They have it under control, just sit down." She was more trying to calm herself down.

I held the bat tightly, my knuckles growing white. A gunshot echoed through the house. Molly moved back across the roof, returning quickly. She climbed around to the front side of the house, the gun still tight in her ready hands.

I followed her, watching her eyes peel apart. She tore the window open to Marty's room, crawling inside quickly. I jumped in, my feet landing on Randall's bed. I slid over, my body crashing into the drum set. I stood up, running into the hallway.

Randall sat on the floor of the hallway, his nose pouring blood onto his gray shirt. His lip was split open, leaking it's own red water. A body laid a foot in front of him, leaking blood onto the carpet. Molly's arms extended in front of her quickly, a loud blast filling my ears.

I looked at the limp body slouching to the side. Molly pushed the large man off, reveling my youngest brother on the floor. He began choking as the body was removed from atop him. He sat up, still struggling for air. He pulled his shirt up, showing off a red mark across his chest, quickly becoming purple.

An arm wrapped around me, pushing me lower against the ground. I looked over seeing Randall, his chest rising and falling quicker than the forced breaths escaping between his teeth. A pink scar rested on his lip.

"Back to the beach." He whispered, sitting up enough to look over the low bushes. "Come on." His body moved across the floor of the forest.

Shouting became more distinct through the trees. "I swear I saw one of them over here."

I moved quicker, ignoring the sharp rocks stabbing the palms of my hands. Randall stopped behind a tree, grabbing a large rock. "I'll throw it but then we have to stand up and run."

"They'll shoot us." I whispered, watching the stone fly from his hand into the trees. He pulled me up to the ground, dragging me by the arm. The sand appeared under our shoes, making it hard to run. Ferris was standing on the edge of the camp, a large gun in his hands. He grabbed me pushing me behind him.