Rosabelle didn't think twice before pushing her way into the main room, knocking shoulders with her friends in their haste to leave the pharmacy.

The door clicked shut behind her. Rosabelle shoved her shaking fists into the pockets of her sweater. She didn't want to die, didn't want to risk her life to save the others, but it was necessary. Katherin and Gwynth needed the medical supplies they'd left behind. The others might need them too if they weren't careful.

The medical bag was still on the counter where it had been left.

Rosabelle stepped over some bloody gloves, discarded carelessly onto the floor. The stench of blood had begun filling the room, choking out all other scents in the air. Rosabelle pulled her sleeve over her palm, using it to cover her mouth and lessen the stench.

Some of the supplies had spilled out of the bag. Rosabelle scooped them up, packing them tightly. She looked under the counter, fishing out a couple of packets of jellybeans. The packets crumpled as Rosabelle shoved them into the bag.

The smell of rotting flesh.

Rosabelle looked up.

The zombie stood in the centre of the room, its head tilted as it watched Rosabelle.

Rosabelle sucked in a breath. She stepped backwards, her fingers reaching behind her for the door handle. There was nothing. Her fingers grasped at air.

The zombie began walking forward. It walked as if it was wading through water, stumbling over its own feet, as if it was a toddler taking its first steps. The flesh of the zombie's skin was pasty white, a reminder that the body had bled out in the backroom before its revival.

Rosabelle didn't want to think about what would happen to her if the zombie was to bite her.

The zombie stumbled forward faster, with more vigour.

Rosabelle turned to the door, grabbing the handle. She pushed, but the door didn't budge.

The zombie was getting closer.

Rosabelle closed her eyes involuntarily, digging her fingers into her forearms as she tried to protect herself from the inevitable. She was going to die. The zombie would bite her, tear her apart, just like it had done to all the others. She hadn't seen the remains of Rebeka, but she could imagine. There had been other dead survivors along the path to the docks. Rosabelle had thought they'd been torn apart by wild animals before Lyria had told her the truth. She couldn't accept the fact that something resembling a human being would be so bloodthirsty.

Rosabelle was pushed to the floor, her fall broken by a pair of hands grabbing her waist as they tumbled to the floor. She groaned, wincing as she failed to pull herself from the person's chest. Her head pounded.

Rosabelle forced herself to open her eyes. She caught a glimpse of bleached hair, dark roots already beginning to appear at the base.

"You were supposed to go to the car," Rosabelle hissed.

Katherin grinned.

"And miss out on all the fun? No way."

There was a grunt, the crash of metal against bone.

Rosabelle peered up from behind the counter.

Jaxx kicked the zombie in the gut, diving for his weapon. He'd lost his grip on the crowbar when he swung it at the zombies head. It had hit, but the damage clearly hadn't been enough to kill. The zombie was missing its lower jaw, exposing its top row of teeth and throat.

Rosabelle shuddered. She reached for the medical bag, clutching it tightly between her fingers, hoping that the zombie would be dead soon. It was her fault that this was happening. She shouldn't have locked the zombie inside the pharmacy. That had been her decision. The others had wanted her to throw it outside.

Jaxx tripped. He landed on his back, groaning softly as his head knocked against the floor.

The zombie stood over Jaxx, black pupils searching his face, its fingers reaching out to touch the fabric of Jaxx's singlet.

Jaxx shuddered. He turned his head, clenching his jaw as he waited for his death.

Jaxx's eyes met Katherin's, widening in surprise. He hadn't seen her enter the room, hadn't seen her throw Rosabelle to the floor in the chaos of the situation. Hadn't he told her to go to the car? Jaxx had sworn that Katherin had nodded, reaching out to grasp Esther's wrist as they headed to the car.

Katherin rose to her feet, pushing Rosabelle away from her when Rosabelle held onto Katherin's wrist, begging her not to do anything she'd regret.

"Hey! Stupid!" Katherin shouted, finding bitter delight in the way that the zombie's eyes snapped to meet hers.

Katherin jumped over the counter, using her uninjured hand to stop herself from tripping over the items scattered haphazardly over the floor.

The zombie let go of Jaxx's singlet, turning slowly to Katherin.

There was a bang.

The zombie collapsed, its head blown off its body.

Katherin stopped dead in her tracks. She looked over her shoulder, locking eyes with Lyria.

"I found it in the safe in the backroom. The password was 1, 2, 3, 4. What kind of idiot sets that as their password?"

Katherin didn't respond. She eyed the gun warily, edging towards Lyria, hoping that she'd drop the gun, or at least, stop training it at Katherin's chest.

"Put the safety lock on, Lyria," Katherin murmured.

Lyria continued speaking as if she hadn't heard.

"You know, I wish I had one of these earlier, you know, when-"

Lyria stopped speaking abruptly. She hadn't meant to speak that thought out loud, hadn't meant to talk about her family's death with the others again. They knew enough: her family had died. Lyria didn't need to tell them the full story. She needed to keep her mouth shut.

Lyria flicked the safety lock on, shoving the gun into the waistband of her jeans.

"How many bullets?" Katherin asked.

"There's two left."

Katherin nodded. That wasn't enough. She had hoped that if someone found a gun, they'd find a stash of bullets as well. It was too dangerous for them to keep fighting with knives and other weapons crafted from scrap material.

Someone would become infected if they didn't find a more useful weapon soon. Katherin couldn't let that happen. She couldn't bear to watch her friends transition into a monster with empty eyes, only existing to fill their stomachs.

Jaxx's hand landed on Katherin's shoulder.

Katherin jumped.

"You told me you were going to the car," he hissed.

"I'm a sucker for pain," Katherin shrugged.

Jaxx rolled his eyes, fighting the urge to grin. He shouldn't find amusement in Katherin's compulsion for violence, but it was somewhat endearing.

Katherin had changed so much over the years, from being fifteen and running after the others in her sundress, hoping that the others would invite her to the picnic they'd planned that Saturday morning, despite no one wanting to talk to her since she was still in high school.

Esther had been the only one who'd given Katherin a chance. She'd ditched the others, taking Katherin on a picnic of their own. They'd bought ice cream, cookie dough for Esther, honeycomb for Katherin. The others had teased Esther about hanging out with the younger kids, but she hadn't minded. She'd enjoyed herself more than she would have at a tense picnic with her twin sister.

Katherin had returned that night to a crime scene. Her parents had been murdered, and no one believed Katherin's alibi.

There was the squeal of wheels outside.

"We've got to go," Lyria mumbled, walking towards the car without looking behind her to see if the others followed.

Rosabelle scrambled after her, the medical bag hugged to her chest. She would have liked to search for more medical supplies in the caged area, but she was afraid of going alone. The medical supplies they had would have to do.

Jaxx walked alongside Katherin, walking slowly behind the others.

"Hey, I'm sorry about your tattoo. You know that, right?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gotten mad at you. It's really not your fault. I'm just tired, you know? I haven't slept in days."

Jaxx was suddenly aware of the weight of his eyelids, the drag to his footsteps as he lumbered towards the car. He was exhausted. The past couple of days had left him without time to sleep.

The car door was already open.

Rosabelle climbed in first. She tossed the medical bag to Raven, who stuffed it into the glovebox. There was barely any space in the car. Rosabelle slid next to Ivory, who squeezed her hand, flashing her a warm smile.

Lyria climbed in next. She slid into the footwell of the backseat, resting her head against the carpeted floor. The last week had left her exhausted. She hadn't been able to sleep alone, not since the death of her family. The others hadn't noticed. Lyria had refused to show weakness. It was already bad enough that they pitied her for the death of her family.

"What happened to you?" Jaxx grunted at Gwynth as he slid into the footwell of the passenger seat, resting his head in Raven's lap. He eyed the back window, noticing the cracks in the glass.

"We had a zombie problem," Gwynth replied.

She wiped her hands on her jeans a second time, hoping that the blood between her fingers would scrub clean. They hadn't quite figured out what caused the zombie infection yet, but Gwynth wasn't willing to be the test subject.

Katherin climbed in the car, slamming the door shut behind her. She squished in next to Esther, draping her legs across her girlfriend's lap.

Esther rubbed her fingers against the fabric of Katherin's t-shirt. It was covered in blood, both fresh and old. Esther wrinkled her nose at the stench.

"You have blood on your shirt."

"It's not mine."

"Not all of it, sure," Esther responded. Her eyes lingering on the dark red patch on Katherin's t-shirt, where her wounded arm had previously rested. She didn't think so much blood could come out of one person.

"I'll find some new clothes soon."

"You'll need new glasses as well."

Katherin touched her face, feeling for the cold metal of her glasses, but her fingers brushed against air. She had wondered why her head was beginning to pound, her eyes growing weary from the simple task of focusing on the world around her.

Morgana turned onto the main road. She checked the mirrors for any lurking zombies, releasing the tension in her shoulders when she saw none. It made her nervous when they followed the car at their eerily patient pace, waiting for the moment for the group to let down their guard.

"Where are we going?" Morgana asked.

The turn to exit the town was up ahead, but Morgana wasn't sure she was ready to leave. She still held onto the hope that Ttod would come back, that he'd regret abandoning his friends. Morgana didn't want to leave, just for him to return.

No one responded. A couple of shrugged shoulders, a few sideways glances.

"The car yard," Jaxx finally spoke. "We need a van or something. The ute isn't practical."

Morgana shrugged. She didn't have a better idea, and Jaxx was right. The car was too small for them. There wasn't enough room to sleep. There certainly wasn't enough room to carry supplies.

The sun dipped below the clouds as Morgana drove towards the car yard. She flicked the fog lights on, tapering her speed so the sound of their car didn't attract unwanted attention.

It wasn't just the zombies that Morgana was worried about. Her eyes flickered to Katherin's arm, which was wrapped around Esther's waist. They'd fallen asleep on the drive, too exhausted to keep their eyes open.

Morgana rubbed her eyes with her fist. She was exhausted. The lines on the road were beginning to blur together, the hazy street lights burning her eyes.

Morgana's head rolled forward, her shoulders sagging as her head hit the wheel. Her foot lifted off the accelerator, slowing the car to a halt.

She woke, only to be lifted out of the front seat.