âŖ Alexandria "Alex" Owens âŖ
Some of the survivors had made their way up into the loft above the group, most likely to avoid being the first to die if the group was ever attacked. It was probably a smart idea. Alex thought she might do the same. Just in case.
The group had made the barn their temporary home; blankets were found among steel shelves and were immediately used as beds. Although Alex hadn't gotten her hands on one, she didn't prefer to complain tonight. If she had to sleep on hay, so be it. Her backpack would end up being her pillow.
She decided she would be the first to take the hourly night shift to guard. She hadn't had any volunteers yet, and she wasn't expecting any. Some people were too selfish to do anything for others these day.
"Every man for himself." She thought. It sounded like a pathetic line from a war movie; too bad she couldn't get her hands on one of those. She would've killed to escape into a world of fantasy, forgetting every care and worry left in the world as she dived into a dramatic plot.
"Oh god, I never knew that a pair of socks could feel so good." Zac, whom Alex assumed had just put on a fresh pair of socks, exclaimed as he laid back into the hay.
Damn. She couldn't believe she had almost forgotten about his wound. Poor Zac had slipped through her mind during all the hustle and bustle along the journey to the barn.
Hopping her way through the blankets and resting survivors, Alex quickly made her way to Zac, eventually bending down at his level. She eyed the blood-stained bandaged wrapped tightly across his left arm.
"How you holding up?" She met his gaze, knitting her eyebrows together. Her eyes then traced downward as she studied his arm. "Mind if I have a look?" She asked, reaching for the bandage. She wanted to see how the wound had been cooperating through the challenging transition process to the barn.
Her fingertips gently grabbed the knot, untying it with willing caution. The gash was deep and red. His flesh rippled at the edges of the wound. It was a large slash, and Alex hoped she could still manage it. Dear God she hoped she still could.
"How'd this happen, anyways?" She asked, still looking at the gash.
As she listened to his reply, her heart ached. Zac was probably going through Hell, and without any amnesia, the process of sewing it up wouldn't exacty be "pain-free", to say the least. Her eyes frantically darted around the barn, searching for any sign of a fist-aid kit. She needed to tend to the gash and quickly to prevent any infection.
"You just keep it elevated, okay? I'll be back soon," She met his gaze, offering him a slight smile. She hoped it would lighten his spirits. "Just hold up for a little longer."
Alex stood up, carefully making her way across the barn. She pleaded with herself not to disturb anyone. She didn't want any cranky survivors in the morning; she had already stumbled across a few complainers along the way. Viciously looking for a first-aid kit, she made her way towards the shelves which had once held the blankets. The only contents left were a box of ammo and a few wrenches and screwdrivers piled up against each other inside a rusty container. No first-aid kit there.
"Shit." She mumbled, pressing forward towards a wooden cabinet. She hastily flung the doors open to the cabinet, rummaging her hands through its shelves.
"What do you need me to do?" Alex turned, eyeing Beth who had just stood up from her seat. Beth amazed Alex; for a woman who was pregnant, she was awfully generous.
Alex smiled. "Would you mind looking for a first-aid kit?" She paused, looking at Zac in the corner. "Zac's got a pretty bad wound, and some medical supplies would be great at the moment."
She didn't want to give Beth too much of a strenuous task with the baby and all. Since a wooden plank had been secured through the handles of the barn's door (by the help of the men of the group) there wasn't much left to do but sleep. Alex figured Beth at least needed some rest, and offering her a night shift wouldn't help Beth from getting some shut-eye.