I didn't hesitate to say yes when Tilly asked us to rest. The day seemed to be endless, so being able to sit down and to rest was a welcoming change. Tilly fell asleep right when her head hit the ground. The corners of my lips tugged. I rubbed my thumb over a cut on her temple before heading to the woods.

The memory of walking back to Tilly, who had been crumbled on the trail, and telling her how I had killed those demon birds flashed through my mind. She had wrapped her arms around my hips and dug her head into my stomach, crying tears of joy, sorrow, and pain. It was impossible not to cry with her. I stayed strong, though. I held her tightly against me until she stopped weeping, ignoring the blood dripping down my hands.

It was too dark to see, but I managed to make out the outline of trees. I slid the knife out of my boot, keeping my gaze on a thick tree in front of me. The river that Tilly and I had taken camp at was still rippling and singing its serene song. I shivered. It had gotten colder since the last time I was there.

I let my blade slip out of my hand. I listened to itknock against the tree before falling to the ground. I scooped it up, took a few steps back, and threw it again. Then again. And again. And again.

Sometimes the blade would dig itself into the trunk, while there were others where I would have to scavenge around for it. I refused to give up, though. I just continued to throw it at whatever target I could find, hoping that I would gradually get better.

When my arm grew sore and my eyelids were heavy, I trudged back to where Tilly was sleeping. I quietly slid to the floor and squeezed my eyes shut.

"Is it my turn to keep watch?"

I rolled over to see Tilly propped on her elbows, her chin in her hands. I shook my head. "Just go to sleep. We both need it."

Without protest, she rested her head back on her arms and evened her breaths. I fell asleep when I was sure that Tilly was peacefully sleeping. Mona's knife stayed next to me all night.

Light footsteps tore me away from my slumber. I slowly sat up. My cheek stung. I pressed my fingers against it. Blood stained my fingertips. I looked at the knife that I had slept over. It was red, too. I cursed under my breath. I wiped the blood away with my sleeve and placed the blade into my shoe.

Tilly was already awake. She looked exhausted but didn't complain when I told her we had to keep moving.

We walked, leaving the fork behind with relief and satisfaction. It was like saying that we had done it, that we were stronger than we thought. No matter what, it would take a little more than birds to kill us.

It seemed like hours we were just walking. My legs burned, and my feet were hurting. On top of that, my stomach refused to stop reminding me how I had let our food slip out of our hands. Tilly must have been dying compared to me, even though she would never tell me that.

An odor overwhelmed my nose. I coughed into my hand. One cough turned into many, and I had to place my collar over my nose to block out the smell.

"What is that?" Tilly choked.

I hacked out another lung before responding. "It smells like a forest burning."

It wasn't a forest, though. Instead, a house—no, a shack—leaned precariously against a tree, threatening to collapse at any second. The roof was caved in and some life was making a nest in it. The paint was peeling off the walls, and the only window had a crack crawling across the pane. The only thing that seemed stable about it was the door, though it wasn't much of a sight itself.

I sucked in a deep breath. Everything about the house screamed bad luck. It was the only man-made thing I had seen in days. What if there was something to help us, though? Food, medicine—anything would help.

"We have to go inside," I finally said. I expected Tilly to say something or try to stop me, but she only nodded, allowing me to go first.

I gave her a knowing smile before going ahead. The house seemed to have come too soon, and my hand was on the knob before I realized it. When it didn't budge, I threw my foot at the door. After three more kicks with no luck, I slipped my knife out and used the butt to break the window. The glass slid across a counter and crashed onto the floor. I lifted Tilly cautiously into the hole before sliding in myself, lightly cutting my shoulder.

I landed on the counter. I hopped on the floor; the glass tensed under the soles of my shoes. I kicked it away. The shards slid under the counter.

The house looked just as run-down as it did from the outside. The pieces of furniture were all torn up and charred.

Tilly opened the fridge, not hiding her disappointment when she found it empty. I opened a couple of cupboards, but only to find dust and rat droppings. I checked in the other rooms. One had a tiny toilet and a sink while the other had a twin bed. It was squeezed next to a small dresser. The rooms looked like a play-set for a ten-year-old.

I rummaged through drawers, nearly giving up when I pulled out the bottom one. It slid out of its slot and fell to the ground, the front resting motionlessly on the wooden floor.

"Hey, Tilly, I think I found something."

She darted into the room, not hesitating to get on her knees next to me. I untucked the blanket from its spot and threw it on the bed. Underneath it was bagfuls of food and bottles of pills, each with a different label. I was determined to snatch the bottle of painkillers. After a moment of thought, I rested my palm on my thigh.

It had to be a trick. Just another obstacle. Everything here was just another obstacle. With a sigh, I lifted myself off of my knees and left the room.

I looked around the kitchen for the third time, praying that I had missed something during the other times I had looked. Weren't the objects in the drawer a diversion for the other things hiding? I sighed in defeat. I rose from the floor.

A burning smell overwhelmed my nose. Tilly ran into the room, her eyes wide and her lip quivering.

"I-I'm sorry."

I stared at the painkillers I had been eyeing earlier, which were now clutched in her right hand and followed by a bag of trail mix in the other.

Oh, Lord.

"We have to get out of here," I said. Tilly nodded. I clutched her wrist, searching for another way out other than the front. I found a door next to the hallway. I didn't look at the flame igniting in the bedroom until the door was shut behind us and we were walking away from the small shack.

We watched as the house caught on fire, making a boundary between us and the obstacle.

"I had to get it," Tilly sobbed. "I had to."

I shook my head. "It's all right. Let's get out of here."

She looked at me gratefully. I begged her to eat, which she gladly did. I rolled up my cuffs as we walked down the trail, gladly allowing the burnt house to leave my vision—and nose—for good.

Happy Monday! It is a little late, but I had my power out yesterday. I, fortunately, got it finished, though. They finally got more food. Not the easy way, but definitely a way. ;)

I hope that you enjoyed this chapter and make sure to comment, read, and share with your friends! Also, don't forget to vote with your movie Up. (Get it, house? No? Oh well.) Stay cool. :)

This one was just for fun, but this is a cover Burning Down the House by one of my favorite bands, Dave Matthews Band.