World of the Dead

Runaway

Quinn sprinted back into the living room to grab her bag, cursing and shaking the entire way. Anger and panic mixed together, creating a confusing whirlwind in her brain. Sleep deprivation, hunger, and the new added made getting her boots on more difficult than it should've been. This added struggle stressed her out more and made it even harder.

God damn it what the hell is that kid thinking?! Has he just been ignoring everything going on the last two weeks? She yanked the laces tight, furiously double knotting them. Fuck! It's like he's trying to get himself killed or something!

 Her shoes securely on her feet, she grabbed the backpack filled with their meager supplies and hastily slung it over her shoulder. As if to add to her growing list of problems, a series of thuds and crunches let her know that the contents were now all over the floor. Swearing loudly, she pulled the bag from her back and crouched down to scoop up the spilled items. Did I leave it open? I swear I closed it... She thought.

But as she was picking up, she froze. The protein bars were gone. She had purposefully not included them in last night's meal, wanting to eat them at breakfast. She had hoped that they would be a nice change of pace, especially for Kevin. Yet all that was left was the can of peas and two cans of pinto beans.

"Fuck!" Quinn yelled, slamming her hand against the floor. She hardly noticed the sting of impact.

That little shit stole them! She thought as zipped the bag closed. As if running away wasn't bad enough, he had to steal too?!

Quinn fumbled with the keys, her hands shaking and refusing to cooperate. Fed up, she chucked them against the wall and headed for the backdoor, knowing that he had probable left it unlocked. After all, he had already screwed her over by stealing the little food she had, so why not give intruders an easy way in?

Managing to come to her senses, she slowly opened the door instead of flinging it open. She peeked out into the backyard, scanning for movement. The yard was empty, except for the small grill and a single lawn chair. It had a simple wooden fence surrounding it, another reason why she had picked the place. Nothing undead could wander in.

People were still an issue, but it was better than nothing.

She stepped out into the dreary dawn and was instantly greeted by a gust of cold wind. It wasn't so dark that she couldn't see, but dark enough that it'd be hard to tell what was around her. But what she was able to see made her stomach drop.

The gate, the only thing keeping the infected out, was unlocked and wide open.

Quinn went from fearful to pissed in barely a second. She had told him many times to always close doors and lock them behind him. Every time they entered the house, she'd ask him Is the door closed and locked?  to make sure he got in the habit. It was pretty much the only thing she expected of him, besides staying in the street. 

 He must have been in a hurry with all the dumb shit he did, she angerly thought. It was almost like he was trying to kill her. 

That thought made her pause and feel slightly nauseous. Was it possible he had been that angry with her? He was so young; it was difficult for her to imagine the little eight-year-old consciously trying to kill her. Although, she thought grimly, after all the crap he's seen he might be that fucked up. 

As she pushed the gate open, she kept the bat ready. She squinted, scanning for any sort of movement before cautiously stepping out and closing the gate. It was dead silent, not even the birds were up yet. The only sounds were the wind and the soft scraping of trash being dragged by it. It put her on edge not knowing what could be around and keeping quiet, like her. Despite the cold, sweat beaded on her forehead.