Tristan Harlow:
I look at the girls as they walk back into the empty room.
"How was the history lesson?"
"It was very...educational," Rebecca answers while Bailey walks in and takes an empty seat. "What about you? Did you find anything useful?"
Reaching into one of my pockets, I pull out a small handful of bullets.
"That's not much."
Yeah, but it's still something. Here."
Getting up, I walk over to Rebecca and give her the found bullets.
"I still got plenty from all those guns I took from Rex's goon."
"Thanks."
Reaching for her handgun, Rebecca ejects the magazine and counts the bullets inside. She must have a low count because her face twists and turns. Loading the bullets in, she then shovs the magazine back inside her handgun before throwing it back into my backpack.
"It's late, so you two go to sleep. I'll take the first watch. See you in two hours. Also, change the filter for your gas masks. This place isn't sealed."
"No dinner tonight?" Bailey asks while digging around in her pack.
"No. No dinner tonight."
"You're not hungry?"
"Of course, I'm hungry, but we need to save our food. This isn't the bunker. There are no cafeterias out here. We eat one day and then eat again in three days."
"Three days? That's insane."
"No, that's survival. Pure and simple. Now shut up and get some sleep. We have a long day ahead of us. Tomorrow, I want us out of this city."
Both Rebecca and the package then make beds out of the chairs in the room. They take off their packs and use them as pillows. While they sleep, I keep my eyes and ears open for anything. While on watch, I see a bunch of infected wandering around the bridge.
"This place isn't too secure, but it's out of the way, and there's only one way inside. The bridge. If things get bad, we can stack boxes and chairs against the doors."
Still looking out the window, I examine it closely.
"The windows are reinforced, but nothing a few hard kicks can't knock down. If something does happen and we do have to stack boxes and chairs against the doors, we can escape through these windows."
Checking the windows one more time, and making sure there are no infected walking toward us, I finally look away. I take off my backpack and start emptying it.
Laying everything out in front, sorting it out, I stare at it all.
"Ten cans of food. That should last a little over a month. Two bottles of water. One is full and the other bottle is half empty. This will last me only about two weeks. Hopefully, we can find a working faucet somewhere."
I put the canned food and the water together and check on my other equipment. During the warehouse fight with Rex and his hired goons, I managed to get three additional pistols. I check each one individually, making sure they're in working order. I then check their magazines.
"Five bullets in this one, but this one only had two. This one had three. Counting the ones still in my handgun, I have 12 bullets in total."
Looking at the package as she sleeps, I shake my head.
"Stupid kid. I had to use a lot when she got stuck on the bridge."
While looking at the package, I couldn't help but think about something else.
"Why the hell am I doing this? Why in the living hell am I doing this! I don't do this! I don't travel with people. Especially with an annoying kid that is apparently afraid of height!"
Looking over everything again, I then look out the windows.
"If it wasn't so crowded on the bridge, I could just walk away. Just walk away and be alone. Being alone is so much easier."
The final things in my pack are a bottle of alcohol and a large roll of rags.
"Not the best, but they still work."
Slowly, one by one, I start putting everything back inside.
Bailey:
"It's clear," Tristan says, peeking through the door as he slowly opens it. Swinging it open now, he waves his hand and motions for us to follow him.
It's the morning after, and after a quick breakfast of water, we prepare to leave Boston. Speed walking out of the museum, through the bridge, and across the dock, we find ourselves back on the bridge.
"Oh no," I say, seeing the same silver of the street from before. Memories of me being stuck on it rush through my head. I see myself frozen above the freezing water again, my legs unable to move.
"Easy there," someone says.
Looking around, I see Rebecca holding me. Without realizing it, I had accidentally stepped back into her.
"Relax. We're not going that way. We're going this way."
She points the other way, away from the bridge. Letting out a sigh, my legs melting, I start walking again.
"Come on," Rebecca says, pushing me. "Drifter is getting ahead of us."
Looking at Tristan as he moves in between cars while staying low, Rebecca and I have to chase after him. The three of us crouch as we make our way through the city.
"I think we have enough supplies for the time being, so no stops today. Let's just focus on getting out of Boston. Rebecca, how much longer before we reach the city's limit?"
"Since we've taken this way," Rebecca starts, standing up a little to look around, "It should be in a few more hours."
"Assuming that we do make it to the city's limit before nighttime, and we do walk for the remainder of the day. Where will we be staying? Another car? Maybe a van."
"No," Tristan answers, "That military Hummer from before wasn't too bad, but the cars and vans on the road are worthless. They offer no protection. It won't be any different from camping on the outside."
"So again, where are we going to stay for the night if we do manage to get out of the city?"
"I have a few ideas, but for now, just stay low. Also, keep an eye out for anything moving.
"Got it."
I nod, but Tristan doesn't nod back.