The sky looks pissed. The wind talks back. My bones are shifting in my skin.
Heats beyond 100 degrees made the days long and dirty. The sun was ruthless, not caring who lived and what died. Creatures and humans were frying under the blaze of the sun and the ruthless heat. Without the proper amount of water at hand. You could only pray that you were in good hands at a time like this.
When the world is coming to what seems like an end, people need to stick together. Gather your family, friends. Even a trusted group of good citizens will do the trick. Being in a team will get you farther then running out on your own. Team work is the key. The hard to fit, sticky, and crooked key. High stresses lead to high emotions and high actions. You rarely find someone alone these days, unless their infected or crazy. And the heat has probably gotten to some heads by now. A solid week of wrenching heat during the day and bone chilling nights can do things to a man.
Scout wasn't sure where they were, she assumed it was some part of hell. She hated the heat, the cloudless sky that burned at her back. Creeping through the seams of her shirt and itching at her skin, she had never once remembered being this hot. She swore that she could feel ever pore screaming for water. This was just a lovely place to stop and stay, she thought. Their stay wasn't by choice though, their bus had run out of gasoline. This was no surprise, being in the middle of nowhere and having another vehicle towed behind. Some people are born with luck and others are not, Scout being the latter. But maybe there isn't any luck left to share. There doesn't seem to much of anything anymore. Maybe that was just part of the consequence. No luck, no fun, no hope.
There were only two things she was grateful at this point, water and Mike. Water, that was one thing they had more than enough of. Showers were even a suggestion at this time. It was something they weren't going to run out of soon, especially with the purifier recycling the showers. And that was one blessing that Scout could graciously accept. Maybe she was a little lucky. Those who were without water were without lives, sooner than later. Mike was someone she could trust, the only one at this point. She trusted the whole group that she was accepted into, but they passed just like the others. Pete and Martha were their names, and they were the creators of this safeguard. They were swallowed up by the plague when out gathering supplies though, just like Scout and Mike are doing today.
So far they had been unsuccessful, and it didn't help that it was only the two of them. They could only go so far by themselves. Everyday they searched for an old car, a house, barn, town, anything that could have gasoline in it or near by. With the days plastering into one long episode, she had no feelings toward or against Mike. He was just another neutral human, another element of survival. Scout hadn't allowed herself to grow very close to anyone as a child, and this showed through in these dire days. Scout was still trying to process everything. She was still coming to the realization that this was her new life, and that she would never see her family again. Mike was her new family, even if she wasn't willing to accept that yet.
They had started out early, perhaps hoping to find something before the sun would reach it's peak. That was a bit unrealistic. Who knew how many miles out they were out. Scout had set out to the left side of the road into, well, the desert. After a couple of miles, she had to be aware of exactly which direction she was walking because the brightness blinded. And their bus could be easily disguised by the whipping wind and dust. Being bored to death wasn't something she agreed to though, why not get into some danger and dirt?
There were no rules and guidelines to their scavenging, but she assumed that splitting up wasn't part of it. Somehow, nearly everyday Scout found herself suddenly alone. She didn't understand the harm in this, seeing that she always got back okay. Half way through the day, and now by herself, she stumbled upon an old farm, dried up and falling apart. Scout investigated the house, kicking at the dust and tapping the warped wood. She peeked through the the windows, the insides had been turned inside out; the place looked like it had been ransacked. "Damn." She spoke softly as she was stepping up the wobbly steps, then reaching for the door knob. Locked. She rolled her eyes, who were they trying to keep out? ... Or in? Scout wasn't afraid of the poor infected, if getting the disease meant getting out of this hole, she would do it..
The wind sped up again; dust caught in her throat, and a rough, exhausted cough came out of her. "Well, I guess the only way to get around here is the hard way." Scout said, after wiping her forehead, smearing a stain of dirt across it. Her boots clunked together as she grabbed one of the chairs on the porch and smashed it into the window. The sound of breaking glass; shattering hearts and breaking bones. It could have been heard a mile away, it was so foreign, so loud. Perhaps she was being a little irrational.
Scout stood there, solid, petrified. She listened, nothing. It seemed safe enough.