Morgana jolted awake.

Her head was throbbing, her lips cracked and dry. Someone's jacket had been tossed over Morgana's torso; a weak attempt at keeping her warm in the freezing cold.

Morgana pushed herself onto her forearms, looking out into the sky. The light was glowing orange, hues of pink dripping out behind the dense clouds. Morgana sighed in relief. She hadn't been asleep for too long - a couple of hours, at most.

"We're almost there," Lyria spoke over her shoulder, her fingers wrapped tightly around the steering wheel.

Lyria could feel exhaustion seeping into her bones. She'd wanted to sleep on the way to the car yard, but no one else had been able to drive after Morgana had collapsed. Jaxx was exhausted from his fight with the zombie, Gwynth's leg was useless, and Katherin had never been the best at driving - she hadn't been able to afford driving lessons, nor the fee to pass the test. The others weren't willing to drive either. They were exhausted, traumatised by the event that took place in the pharmacy.

Lyria didn't blame them for wanting a break from the life they'd been thrust into. She just wished she could've had a nap before they were thrown into the next life-threatening situation.

The gun dug into Lyria's hip, the cold metal taunting her, bringing her attention to the sweat beaded across her brow, despite the cold weather. She was becoming sick, and there was nothing that Lyria could do about it. They hadn't thought to pack any medication to soothe a common cold. Had they even considered the possibility that they would become sick? Lyria didn't think so. They'd been so preoccupied with the thoughts of someone being injured that they didn't stop to think about natural causes of illness.

The car yard was up ahead. It was surrounded by barbed wire; a makeshift fence that the owner had erected after a couple of teenagers drove off with one of his most expensive cars.

Katherin had never admitted it, but Lyria was sure that she was to blame. She and Izzy had disappeared on the day of the crime, only to return home with scratches and cuts across their body.

The car had never been found. It wasn't surprising, not really. The police were generally useless - not that anyone could blame them. They weren't paid enough, weren't given enough funding by the government, to prevent crime across the cities. There simply wasn't enough money to go around.

Lyria eased her foot onto the brake, slowly bringing the car to a halt. She pried her fingers off the steering wheel, telling herself that it was okay to leave the car, that there wasn't a lurking zombie nearby.

They stumbled out of the car, tripping over stray arms and legs. Lyria left the key in the ignition, just in case they needed to make a quick escape. Rosabelle grabbed the medical bag from the glove box. She wouldn't forget about it, not again.

"What now?" Morgana asked.

Jaxx shrugged. The cold had enveloped his body, causing his skin to break out in goosebumps. Jaxx fought the urge to rub his palms along his flesh. He would have to find a new shirt later. A jacket would be better if he could find it.

"We need a van. A truck, maybe," Katherin murmured.

Katherin's arm was beginning to ache, a numb sensation spreading up to her shoulder, weighing down on her bones. She had tried to find some painkillers, even an asthma puffer to pump adrenaline into her lungs and ease the ache. There was nothing; nothing that Katherin could take, anyway.

The bandage was rubbing against Katherin's skin, causing her burn to become inflamed. Katherin fought the urge to tear through the fabric that held her wound together, sucking in air between clenched teeth.

"A truck is too noisy," Jaxx replied. "It'll draw unwanted attention."

Katherin nodded, reluctantly. Jaxx was right. Even if the truck granted them more space, it would come at a dangerous cost. There were no windows in the back of a truck, no accessible path from the driver's seat to the back. A van was a much better option. It was safer.

They walked along the path towards the cars, constantly swivelling in search of zombies, for survivors lurking in the shadows.

There was a house at the edge of the car yard. It had belonged to the owner; an old man with a balding head and thick, sausage fingers. He'd hated teenagers, people of other ethnicities, pretty much anyone that had a different perception than him.

The owner's name had been Dick. Katherin thought it was fitting. She'd hated him, hated how he treated her like she was dirt beneath his feet.

"I'm going to search the house," Jaxx said.

Raven ran after Jaxx, following him into the small building.

Katherin watched them go. She had wanted to search through the building, to find supplies, but it was best that she stayed put. Jaxx and Raven would want some time alone. Katherin could respect that.

There were hundreds of cars sprawled across the car yard. Katherin scrambled onto the roof of a car, looking out across the wasteland. There was a van at the edge of the car yard.

Katherin jumped down from the car, pointing in the direction of the van.

"There's a van over there," she told Morgana, who nodded in response.

They began the trek to the van, stopping frequently to peer into cars, hoping to scavenge some items that could be useful.

Katherin wrapped her fist in Esther's jacket, punching a hole through a car window and retrieving a baseball bat. She walked over to the fence, peeling off a strip of barbed wire, before wrapping it around the head of the bat.

"This is yours," Katherin offered the bat to Esther, who took it gingerly.

Esther didn't want to be forced into a situation where she had to protect herself, but she appreciated the sentiment. Katherin wouldn't always be around to protect her. She needed to learn to fend for herself.

Still, the bat felt awkward and heavy in Esther's hands.

The van was just up ahead. It was old; white paint peeling off the exterior, windows covered in dust, green carpet stapled to the interior walls.

Morgana's nose wrinkled at the sight. She prided herself on her artistic talent, on how she improved everyday items with art. Ttod's boat had been her biggest project - she'd spent an entire weekend painting luminescent sunflowers on the side.

This van was different, though. Morgana didn't even know where to start. Her fingers itched to tear the green carpet from the interior, to repaint the van, to do something about the project that lay before her.

"Thinking about the state of the van?" Katherin mused.

She nudged Morgana's shoulder, chuckling when the older girl jumped.

"It's ugly," Morgana responded. "I can't help it."

"You can fix it later. I'm sure we'll be able to find some paint somewhere-"

"There's some paint in the shed if you want me to show you to it," Gwynth hobbled forward, cutting Katherin off as she spoke to Morgana.

Gwynth had worked as Dick's apprentice after she'd graduated from high school. She'd loved the opportunity, even though she'd had to make breakfast for Dick every morning, and cook him dinner before she left that night. Dick had taught her everything, from salvaging car parts to restoring old cars.

"You can do that?" Morgana asked.

"It's not like he's using it anymore," Gwynth responded, wincing at the thought.

Most people hated Dick, but Gwynth didn't; not enough to want him dead, anyway.

"It's this way," Gwynth continued, after a moment of silence.

She began to walk towards the shed, dragging her splinted leg behind her as she struggled to walk at a normal pace. Morgana watched Gwynth with a sigh, before following her slowly. There was no use in trying to find more crutches for Gwynth or preventing her from moving altogether. Gwynth was too stubborn. She'd put too much pressure on the bone eventually. Morgana didn't know what they'd do then.

"Look what I found!" Lyria called out, instantly hushing her voice to a mere whisper. The zombies could be nearby.

"What is it?" Katherin responded.

She knelt at the door of the van, busily working on unlocking the car. If they had been in the same situation three weeks ago, Katherin would have been able to unlock the van using the tools in her apartment. But now? Katherin wasn't so lucky. She'd have to rely on the bobby pin in her hair. If the bobby pin broke, then she'd have to enter the van through force.

"It's a radio set. There are ten radios. That's enough for all of us. We should keep the spare in the car."

Katherin nodded. Radios were a good idea. It would help them stay connected, even if they had to split for brief periods at a time.

Lyria ripped open the plastic, retrieving the radios from the set. They would need to find batteries to make the radios work, but it was good to have them now. At least they'd know where everyone was if they had to split up.

Ivory reached into her back pocket. She held out a handful of batteries, offering them to Lyria.

"Are these the right type?"

Lyria stared at the batteries with wide eyes.

"I found them in the pharmacy. Thought we'd need them later," Ivory spoke again, suddenly embarrassed.

A blush crept across Ivory's cheeks. She withdrew her outstretched hand, going to shove the batteries back in her pocket.

"No! They're the right type," Lyria blurted.

Lyria hadn't meant to embarrass Ivory. She was just surprised. It didn't even occur to her to think about what they would need in the future. Clearly, Ivory was more prepared than her.

Lyria grabbed the batteries from Ivory, placing them on the ground before her. Then, she began to set up the radios, grinning as they crackled with signal.

"They work!" Esther grinned, grabbing one of the radios.

"What works?" Morgana replied.

She held a can of black paint hand, some white paint in the other. There hadn't been much to choose from in the shed, though Morgana suspected that it would draw unwanted attention if she painted the van totally to her liking. Gwynth had warned Morgana not to take the glow-in-the-dark paint, no matter how much she wanted it. Morgana was inclined to agree. She didn't want any survivors to see them driving in the dark.

"Lyria found radios," Katherin responded.

She scooped up two radios from the ground, handing one to Morgana and holding out the other for Gwynth.

Gwynth didn't take it. Katherin tucked the radio in her pocket instead, turning back to the van.

Esther pretended that she didn't see the situation unfold. It pained her to see her sister and her girlfriend not getting along. She didn't understand why Gwynth was so mad at Katherin, why she refused to be happy for Esther.

There was the sound of footsteps.

Katherin whirled around, her stance turned defensive.

Jaxx and Raven rounded the corner.

They were laughing, trying to stay upright as they ran. Jaxx's lips were swollen. There was a purple mark on Raven's neck.

Katherin tried to hide her amusement, turning her head to conceal her smirk.

Esther caught Katherin's eye. She shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Did you find anything?" Esther's tone gave nothing away.

"A bed, maybe?" Katherin responded, unable to control herself.

Esther jabbed Katherin in the ribs.

"Katherin!" She sighed, exasperated.

"You were thinking it too."

"Even if you think it, you don't have to say it!"

"Don't worry baby, we'll find our own bed later," Katherin's voice was velvet, smooth.

Esther rolled her eyes, turning away.

Jaxx rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding maintaining eye contact with anyone in the group.

"We did find something, actually," he murmured.

Katherin turned her attention to Jaxx, momentarily forgetting about her conversation with Esther.

"What did you find?"

Jaxx dropped a backpack on the floor. It was brimmed with canned food, various medication that they'd grabbed from the cabinet, a torch and a pair of binoculars.

Katherin nodded. She caught a glimpse of a chocolate wrapper in the bottom of the bag. Katherin made a mental note to thank Jaxx later. They were running out of high sugar foods, and Katherin's blood sugar was dropping again. She'd already eaten most of the jellybeans that Rosabelle had scavenged; her blood sugar had been drastically low after losing so much blood.

The lock clicked. Katherin swung the door open.

"Is everyone ready to go?"