3 | We Who Survive the Apocalypse | ✅

Chapter 5 - Kat

"Hello," Mara says in a small voice.

The girl doesn't reply, but instead makes a weird, jolting movement before sinking back against the wall again, never taking her eyes off of me.

Those eyes of hers are as piercing a blue as you can get, though one seems a little greener than the other.

"What's your name?" Mara asks, her voice a little stronger this time.

The girl's eyes flick from me to Mara and back to me again before she replies in a hoarse voice, "Kat."

"I'm Mara, this is Wynne," Mara says, "it's nice to meet you."

The girl - Kat - scoffs. "If you're so pleased to meet me, why am I tied up?"

"Because you threatened our friend," I say, "you should be glad we didn't let our resident psychopath kill you."

"Huh?" Kat furrows her brows in confusion.

Mara whispers in my ear, "high-functioning sociopath."

Before I can say it doesn't matter, Kat asks if she can have some water.

"Of course," Mara replies, scuffling to her feet and hurrying to our stash of water bottles.

She returns a moment later, twisting the cap off a bottle before kneeling in front of Kat and lifting it to the red haired girl's lips.

Kat takes a sip from it, giving a small nod when she is finished. Mara turns away from her slightly, screwing the lid back onto the bottle.

Suddenly in one swift movement, Kat is on her feet, an arm wrapped around Mara's shoulders and a knife pressing the skin of her neck.

"No!" I gasp, leaping to my feet, my hand flying to the handle of my Glock.

"Don't!" Kat orders, "just give me my stuff back, and I won't hurt her."

Mara whimpers as Kat tightens her grip on her. "P-please, let me go."

"I'll let you go when I get my stuff back," Kat hisses through gritted teeth.

I can't speak, my hand trembling as it yearns for the weight of my Glock, but I'm afraid of what Kat might do if I draw on her.

The front door flies open and Hudson runs in, skidding to a stop when he takes in the scene before him.

Kat presses the knife further into Mara's neck, drawing from her a frightened whimper, and I lurch forward, pulling my Glock and aiming it at Kat's head without thinking.

Kat eyes me with contempt as my arms waiver, my entire body trembling.

"Let her go!" Hudson shouts, his chest heaving as he stands just inside the doorway.

Kat frowns. "Give me my stuff back."

"You don't understand, you have to let her go!" I say in desperation, "she's - she - you don't understand, you have to let her go!"

"Give me my things," Kat mutters darkly, "and I'll let her go."

Mara slender fingers clutch at Kat's sleeve, her face drained of color and her eyes wide with shock as tears stream down her cheeks.

Hudson approaches slowly. "Look, just let her go, and we can talk about getting your stuff back to you."

Kat's eyes fly back to Hudson, glowing with rage. "Give me my things now, or she dies."

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I'm sorry it's so short! Writer's block keeps blowing up bridges on the track my train of thought runs on. It's a regular Lone Ranger sabotage plan up in here.