A crackle of thunder lapsed as I pulled on my jacket and hat. I didn't bother with an umbrella. It was extra weight, and I'd have to dump it somewhere anyway. I had to use Dad's old jacket, too. My old one didn't fit, and I hadn't been outside in four years. I dug around for a smudged pair of aviator sunglasses in the big pocket, and I snuck out the door. Don't look back, just do what you gotta do.

My brother, Chase, had told me not to go. I could even see those fat, ugly tears streaming down his face, marring his chalky face with red lines and splotches. But I needed to get the food. My family lives in a remote area, and we used to get a delivery of supplies every once in a while. Don't ask me how the system worked, I don't know, and at the moment, it doesn't mean a thing. There is only one currency. There is only one thought, and that's the thought you can shove down your throat as you hope you don't choke.

The light was blinding as I looked up into the cloudy sky, my eyes vainly searching for the big metal birds that lay eggs in the sky. I don't know why I did that, either. I knew I wasn't going to get another opportunity. It was either this, or watching them starve. Not much of a choice, is there?

I took off running, hearing thunder clap and watching lightning strike as I headed for the woods, knowing that I'd have more cover there. I've been thinking this through too much, haven't I? Never mind. Just keep moving.

I got to the woods, all dark green, lively and haunting all at the same time. The trees that stretch so tall that you have to bend over backwards just to see the tops of them, the flowers,and the bushes...everything felt so inviting. I breathed in the scent, just wanting to memorize it....

My stomach gurgled, and I remembered Chase back at home. His sounded like that, too. So did Mom's, only she tried to hide it from us. But she wasn't good at it. No, no, she wasn't. Get the rations.

I ran, following along the streets, and it was getting harder and harder with the soaked denim weighing me down. At least the leather of Dad's jacket was keeping me warm. My foot hit something slippery and I slid, falling into the mud and following its path down the hill.

I gasped, and then my body collided with the metal.

Rain was still dripping on my face when I woke up. It was colder still, and it was darker, I noticed as I sat up and my eyes adjusted. This must be what they mean by "night". How long have I been here? I leaned back just a little, and my head smacked into the metal again. It made a hollow sound, and I jolted upright.

The rations truck.

Rushing about, I looked for a way in without breaking the glass windows. I found a joint in one of the hinges that was loose, and I tried breaking it with a rock, but to no avail. And then I did what I had to do.

Picking up a rock, I aimed carefully. If anyone's out here, they might think that one sound is just an animal. But two sounds...? They'll know. I've only got one shot. So I drew my arm back, and in one moment, my heart stopped. My arm arched over my head, and the glass shattered; a tinkling, yet dismal sound.

The thumping against my chest resumed, and I dove through the window like a jackrabbit.

What puzzled me, though, as I sorted through the packages for my rations, was where the driver was. Surely somebody had to be driving this when it crashed...surely. The keys were still in the ignition, and there was blood on the seat. I looked out of the driver's side window, and I saw it.

Well, I guess it used to be a "him". I opened the door and moved toward the body out of some perverse need, as if I actually knew the person.

In the wet, sticky mud, his crumpled body rose from the ground in sharp, unnatural angles. Warm, wet red and cold, thick brown collided in several places, swirling and flowing and practically congealing. As I walked out of the truck, I saw that his form was entirely broken, white bone protruding from the skin sickeningly.

And whoever did this wasn't kind. The skull was half-skinned, with claws (or nails) marking the yellow-white. His face had been chopped into two pieces at the jawline, making his mouth fall open in a scream. The inside of his skull had been gutted, and was rotting and covered with bugs a few feet away. But the worst part was his eyes. Two bright blue eyes stared up at me, unmoving, unblinking, and filled with terror. He was awake when they did this. He'd been alive.

My stomach heaved, and I couldn't turn or anything before fresh vomit landed on the body. At least there weren't any chunks in it.

Then I remembered. The FOOD! I ran back to the truck, searching everywhere for the package that was labeled for us. Never mind what's ours, take something, I commanded my body. I looked for enough food to last us a week, and resolved to come back for the rest later. This was going to be hard enough to carry.

The rations themselves were in a box, a big, heavy cardboard one, and I wasn't going to be able to push this load back up the hill, not even when it's dry. Scrounging around some more, I found a canvas sack, and I dumped about two-thirds of the contents into it before sliding the straps over my shoulders. Chase'll have to come with me next time, I thought. This won't be enough.

The trip uphill was pretty tricky, but after a couple of hours, I'd made it to a point where I could lean on the tree and rest. In a direction I could only assume was west, I heard water rushing in a stream. I was really thirsty, but I knew not to go there. Enemies lurked at the streams, waiting for people like me. With the radio, we'd been told that many of them are cannibals, and I wasn't thirsty enough to chance it. When the rain slowed again, I pushed off from the tree I rested on and continued my climb, however the slippery-thick mud made it difficult and I ended up moving backwards more often then I was going forwards. In the end of it though, I made it to the crest of the hill.

I walked swiftly and silently through the brush. Whoever killed the driver was most likely still out there, watching for their next victim, and so I knew not to be spotted by anything. My feet squished softly in the silt, shoes having been worn down and disposed of a long time ago. And through the trees, I saw it.

Home.

I sprinted across the asphalt and through the grass and almost jumped through the door, just to get to them. I looked around frantically, wanting to see any sign of life. And I turned to find Chase, looking at me with THE look in his bright green eyes- you know, THAT look- the one thing you never want to accept, never in a million years.

I ran to her room and found her there. She'd collapsed there, or she'd been sleeping. I can't believe she did it.

"NO!" I started shaking the body in front of me, the cold, limp thing that dangled in my arms.

"She didn't do it on purpose, Cal. You know she wouldn't."

I know what'd happened now. Her body ran out of energy. Ran out of life.I ignored the empty pill bottle next to her and wrapped my emaciated arms around her equally thin frame as I heaved with the racking sobs of self-loathing misery. It happened because I had failed her. I failed.