"Dad, please. Just listen to me! Stop blocking me out!" I shout, watching as my dad lifted another glass to his mouth. "What would Mom say about this?" I say, placing a hand on his shoulder. He turns to me, his eyes full of both fiery and pain. "Your mother is DEAD!" His rough, deep voice scratches against his throat. "She's still here with us." I whisper, trying to help him calm down. "No. Your mother, my wife, is gone. Gone, Will. Get that in your dumb brain!" His voice begins to get louder, and more frightening.

Tears swarm my eyes, as I spin away from him, realizing Oakley is right there. He's crying quietly, his big blue eyes full of bad memories. "Oakley." I murmur, reaching my hand out to him. He slowly raises his small, skinny hand and places it onto mine. "Come here." I say, pulling him up the stairs.

"W-What are you doing?" He stutters, wiping his wet face.

"We're leaving." I say, a tear slipping down my cheek.



My eyes jolt open, and my back straightens. "Oakley." I say.

"I'm right here." His voice calms me, and I sigh. We're okay. I wrap my arm around his shoulders, tugging him close.

"You okay, Will?" Oak asks, staring at me with his big blue eyes.

"I'm okay. Don't worry about me, Oak." I smile at him, and how he acts like he's my older brother.

"Come on. We gotta head out today." I say, suddenly standing up. I wrap my fingers around Oak's and we walk out of the old garage. He straightens his small blue and gray flannel, and places his other hand in his jean pocket. I smile at how adorable he is, and we walk together, our heads high.

The empty streets wasn't the first thing that I noticed was wrong. Before that, there was an unusual silence. No chattering people, no arguments arising in the cold air, no cars beeping through the morning traffic. And the town that I know so well was vacant, bare, and desolate.

"What happened?" Oakley asks, looking up at me.

"I don't know." I frown.

Walking through an empty town wasn't exactly comforting. I felt like we were being watched. We make our way through the town and soon enough, I hear distant voices. Oakley starts speeding up, dragging me behind him. He was a little anxious to know nothing was wrong. He wasn't the only one.

We find the jack pot, or in this case, the people.

You would think that someone was giving out a million dollars the way these people were swarming the hospital building. They were all yelling over each other, pushing their way through the crowd. It wasn't pretty. "What are they all doing?" Oakley asks the exact words I'm thinking.

"Let's go, Oakley." I say, not tearing my eyes away from the mob of people.

"That will be a dollar and eighty-nine cents." The man with fluffy gray hair says, shoving his tiny glasses back up on his nose. He bags my two bottles of water, as I toss two dollar bills onto the counter. He hands me back my change, and I grab the bag. "Have a nice day." He fake smiles at me, and I ignore him.

I only have a five dollar bill left. I hate having to steal, but that's what it's coming down to. Steal or starve. I swallow hard, and step out into the cold icy breeze.

A loud, feminine, sharp shriek fills the air, giving me chills all over. I look down at Oakley, who is death-gripping my hand.

"What the-" I mutter, searching the empty roads. No one.

"Let's go back home." I tell Oakley, walking away from the scream.

"But-" He starts.

"Oakley, listen to me." I demand, taking him back to the garage.

We make it back, and I situate Oakley and tell him everything is going to be okay. Which isn't fully true. I have no idea what is going on, but I'm going to find out. I pull my hair back into a high pony tail, slamming the garage door shut.

I approach the hospital slowly, confusion breaking in. The mob of people had decreased, and I glance around, making sure I'm not missing something, like a sign that says 'FREE MILLION DOLLARS'. But there was no sign. Instead, there were bodies.

Bodies of six dead people, on the ground, bleeding out. My knees unlock, crashing into the gravel. I run my hand roughly on the top of my head, letting hair fall out of my ponytail. Who would do this?

Confusion. That's all I have.

I feel a strong hand rest on my shoulder and I frantically stand up, whipping around. "Hey, hey, hey. Calm down." Forrest. This time, I don't roll my eyes. This time, I want him to talk to me. "Do you- do you-" I start, but he interrupts me.

"It's not safe here." He whispers, ushering me to follow. His eyes go crazy, scanning our surroundings.

"What do you mean it's not safe?" I scold.

"You obviously have no idea what happened. I'll explain what I know where it's safe." He answers, saying each word like it is his last.

"I-I have a... little brother." I stutter. Forrest widens his brown eyes and slowly nods, "Okay. Let's go get him."

"Ah, you live behind the Diner. Wow, nice move." Forrest looks at me through the corner of his eyes.

"Whatever. That doesn't matter." I shake my head, shoving the garage door up. Oakley is right there, ready to overwhelm me with a billion questions.

"Oakley, this is Forrest." I nod at Forrest, who is smirking.

Oakley eyebrows furrow together, confused. "Why is he here?" He asks, forgetting all his manners. But I can't blame him. "He's going to tell to us what happened today." I grab my little brother's hand and nod at Forrest.

"Take us where it's safe, then. And start explaining." I instruct.

I realized how stupid I was to follow Forrest. Maybe the fact that he is a thief, makes me a little uneasy. Especially because this time I have Oakley with me.

He lead us to a small apartment building, and I'm actually kind of surprised. I was expecting something much more sketch. We follow him up the narrow, metal staircase. He pulls a key out of his khaki pants and jams it into a door. The door swings open, revealing a really messy room. Everything looks like it was chucked on the ground.

"I can see you really like to stay organized." I say under my breath.

"What? You think living in a garage is better?" He shoots back. I glare at him, stepping over a huge pile of dirty clothes.

"I have some messy roommates." He tries explaining, raising his eyebrows at me. Then I realize he probably has to have roommates because he can't afford it on his own.

"Sure. Now start explaining." I place my free hand on my hip. Forrest nods.

"The doctors finally found a cure for pain. It was like a pain killer, but not druggy. It looked pretty sweet. Well, everyone went crazy for it and ran to their nearest hospital. " He starts.

"Well, something must've went wrong because about thirty minutes later, ten people died." Forrest looks at me expectantly.

"Something must've went very wrong." I correct him, still bewildered.

"Yeah, so I was going to try and figure out what went wrong when I ran into you." He raises an eyebrow at me.

"Do you think the cure killed them?" I ask, the words rolling off my tongue.

"No. The people... they were shot. They each had bullet wounds." He says, eyes dropping to Oakley. I remember he's standing there, listening. Good job, Willow. You let your little brother listen to a conversation about death.

"You're telling me that someone killed those people?" I ask, dumbfounded.

"I need to figure it all out still. I told you everything I know." He tucks his hands into his pockets, leaning against the wall behind him. He slowly bites his lip, and when I search his eyes, I can't help but feel he's hiding something.

"What are you not telling me?" I say, letting go of Oak's hand and wrapping my arms around my chest. Forrest sways, uneasily.

He hesitates. "I came in contact with someone before I ran into you. He looked lost, but there was no life in his eyes. But he stared at me with anger, like I did something wrong. But I had never seen the man before in my life. Then he pulled a gun out of his back pocket." Forrest glances up at me, swallowing hard.

"What?" I gasp.

"I disarmed him and took off into a sprint before anything else could happen-"

"Did you notice anything else unusual about him?" I ask, interrupting him.

"No. All I saw was that he had a beard and some sort of tattoo on his right arm." Forrest shrugs.

"Well, how do you know that it isn't safe out there?" I ask.

"You just saw dead bodies in front of the hospital, Willow. That isn't something you see everyday, is it? I didn't want you or me to be in the same position as them." Forrest explains.

I glance down at Oakley, who hasn't said a word. He is staring at Forrest, the look of confusion in his eyes. I probably have it too. "Come on, Oak. We're going home." I turn around, and begin to open the door.

"It's not safe out there, Willow." I hear Forrest plead behind me.

"Don't use my name like we're friends. Because we aren't." I say, stepping out into the narrow hallway. I pull Oakley behind me, as we walk out of the building.

The silence of the town disturbs me.

Clouds shield the sun, blocking the heat. I try to ignore the vision of dead bodies that keep returning to my thoughts. Oakley and I make our way back to the garage in silence, as if nothing had gone wrong.