Infected || PewdieCry

36.

Sitting in the back of the truck was colder, but definitely more relaxing. The wind blowing through my hair and in my face gave me a sense of calmness. It also helped to prevent the motion sickness that usually bothered me while driving. Being able to really breathe in the air made it so much less sickening to sit in the truck.

After the fight this morning, neither Russ nor Scott had spoken another word. They'd just silently gathered their stuff and waited for the rest to finish up before climbing in the truck, Russ in the back and Scott behind the steering wheel. The whole group had been silent as well, the fight between the two friends still fresh in our minds as we all traveled north.

We'd been traveling all day, only once stopping to refuel the truck with one of the cans we filled a couple of days ago. I hate to admit it, but we were already running out again – we only had one can left, I think. Even worse to admit was the fact that survival wasn't looking very good for us.

Food was running out; we'd almost burned through all fuel; our main leader was dead; our second leader was mentally unstable; the group was falling apart. I was really hoping I was exaggerating our situation, or simply misreading it, but there was no such thing as misreading a situation as obvious as this one – we were in trouble.

The truck slowed down as Scott searched for a good spot to call it a day. The sun had already set and it was more dangerous to drive at night, neither of the car's lights working properly anymore – one was flickering weakly while the other was completely dead. It made it hard to see if there was anything blocking the road.

I focused my eyes on the night sky. The stars were shining brightly tonight, despite of the few clouds trying to hide them from sight. This did mean, however, that tomorrow would be colder than the past few days, and I wasn't sure whether to use that information to mentally prepare myself or to ignore it. There wasn't really anything I could do about it, so I was opting for the latter.

At last, the truck came to a full stop and Scott climbed out of the truck. "We're stopping here."

Those were the first words he'd spoken since the fight with Russ.

"Finally, I'm starving!" Jack said with a soft chuckle, jumping out of the truck as well. It was meant to be a light-hearted remark, but I felt a jab of anxiety and – weirdly enough – guilt at his words, knowing we were going to run out of food completely in a short amount of time. Worst part: there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

I grabbed both mine and Felix's backpacks out of the truck, throwing the second-mentioned at the blonde. He managed to catch it just before it would hit him in the face. Giving me a playful glare, he elbowed me in the side.

"Not funny."

"Definitely funny."

Minx and Russ were trying to start a small fire, this time more for warmth than for cooking food. When Russ turned and offered me a smile, my eyes fell on his darkly bruised nose Scott had given him. It made me frown a little, but I quickly gave Russ a wave and smile and started to dig through my backpack in the search for food.

I'd know ever since I met the guy that Scott had a bad temper, but I'd never expected him to injure one of us, let alone one of his closest friends. The two of them had known each other for so long; it felt wrong to see them fight like that.

Russ mentioning Snake was the thing that had triggered something in Scott. As soon as his name had been mentioned, Scott's gaze darkened so much to the point where I wouldn't recognize him as the caring person he usually is; he looked straight up dangerous and ready to kill someone if it came to it. I'd never seen him this angry before and, judging from the other's reactions, I wasn't the only one surprised by his sudden anger.