We spent the next hour gathering supplies from the house, moving silently, like thieves in our own home. It felt wrong, but I knew it was necessary. There wasn't much time to think about anything else. I emptied my backpack, stuffing it with food, bottles of water, and a few of Mom's things. I couldn't leave without something to remember her by. I took a photo of her and Dad from their wedding and her favourite necklace—the one she never took off. It felt like I was leaving her behind all over again.

Jake, on the other hand, was all business. He moved through the house like a robot, packing essentials—first aid, water, canned food. He didn't hesitate, didn't falter. It made my stomach turn, the way he could act like nothing had happened.

I couldn't take it anymore. "How can you act like this?" I whispered harshly, my voice low but filled with anger. "Mom's in there, and you're just packing like you don't even care."

Jake stopped, his back to me, his shoulders tense. "I care, Ashta," he whispered back, still not looking at me. "But we don't have time for this. If we don't get out of here, we're dead."

"You're not even grieving!" I shot back, my voice breaking.

Jake turned toward me, his face hard but his eyes full of pain. "You think I'm not? You think I don't feel it too? I lost her just as much as you did. But if I break down now, if I lose it, we're not getting out of here. So yeah, I'm keeping it together because I have to."

My hands shook, tears burning my eyes, but I knew he was right. It didn't stop the anger from boiling inside me. I wanted to scream, to cry, but the noise from behind Mom's door stopped me cold. A thud. Then another. And the sound... that awful sound of her throwing herself against the door. Growling.

Tommie rushed over, his face pale. "It's the noise," he whispered, glancing at the door. "She reacts to the noise. We need to stay quiet."

We all froze. The banging subsided, but the growling continued for a few more moments before finally fading into eerie silence.

Jake and I locked eyes, both of us realizing just how dangerous the situation had become. There was no time to fight. We had to move. We had to survive.

Everyone continued gathering supplies, speaking only in whispers, if at all. Jake and I whispered about Mom, our words quiet and raw. He told me he was sad, that it was killing him inside, but there was no time for it. Not now. I wanted to be angry, but I couldn't. Not anymore. I was too exhausted.

Riley and Tommie filled everything they could with water—pots, jugs, anything we could find. Quin came up with the idea of weapons, and I could see Tommie nodding in agreement. We couldn't survive with just kitchen knives.

Dad finally spoke up. "There's a gun case in the garage," he said quietly. "I'll unlock it. There's enough there for all of us."

The words felt strange coming from him. He sounded so hollow, like he was barely there. But we needed those guns. So I let him lead the way while the rest of us prepared.

When we were ready, it was time to say our final goodbye to Mom. I stood there with Jake and Dad, staring at the door where she was trapped. The sound of her pacing behind it was haunting, the occasional thud reminding us of what we'd lost. Or were about to lose.

"I don't know what to say," Jake whispered, his voice cracking.

"There's nothing left to say," I replied, tears slipping down my face.

Dad placed his hand on the door, his fingers trembling. "I love you," he whispered through the wood. "I'm so sorry."

We reinforced the door as much as we could, hoping it would hold. That was all we could do now.

We gathered by the window, peering out into the quiet street. The world outside looked the same, but I knew it wasn't. Everything had changed. The air felt thicker, heavy with the weight of danger we couldn't yet see.

"We'll take separate cars," Jake whispered. "Tommie, Riley, Reya, Quin, and I will take my car. Ashta, you and Dad take the truck."

I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest. Leaving felt impossible. Everything I knew, everything I loved, was in this house. But staying wasn't an option.

With a final glance around the room, we moved quickly and quietly toward the cars. Every step felt like it could be our last. My stomach churned with fear, my hands shaking as I gripped the backpack filled with the last pieces of Mom I had left.

Jake led the way, and one by one, we slipped into the cars, loading the supplies in silence. My heart was racing, my breath shallow as I slid into the truck with Dad. I glanced back at the house, knowing this was the last time I'd ever see it. The last time I'd ever feel like I had a home.

The engines started, and as we pulled out of the driveway, I felt a piece of myself break away. The house, the memories, my mother—they were all gone. Now it was just survival.

As Dad and I drove in silence, the weight of everything pressed down on me like a heavy blanket. The hum of the truck's engine was the only thing keeping the quiet from swallowing us whole. I kept glancing at Dad, hoping for some sort of comfort, some sign that he was holding it together, but his face was a mask. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, his eyes locked on the road ahead, barely blinking.

"Where are we going?" I asked quietly, breaking the silence.

Dad glanced at me, his eyes tired and hollow. "I'm not sure," he finally said, his voice rough. "Maybe your uncle's place. He has that farm, remember? Out of town. Should be safe there... I hope."

I nodded, sinking further into the seat. The farm felt like a lifeline, a flicker of hope in this mess. I reached into my backpack, my hands searching for something to hold onto, something to remind me that there was still something left. My fingers found the picture of Mom—the one from their wedding. Her smile in the photo made my chest ache. I held it tightly, wishing I could turn back time.

In the other car, I imagined the silence was even more suffocating. Jake wasn't the type to sit in quiet for long, and I could only imagine the tension in that small space with all of them crammed together.

Jake finally broke the silence, his voice sounding strained, like he was forcing himself to stay steady. "Can we talk about something normal? Anything, really... I need something to keep my head straight while I drive."

Quin, ever the one to try and lighten the mood, began talking about something random, something light-hearted. I couldn't hear exactly what he was saying, but I knew Quin well enough to guess he was trying his best to make everyone laugh. Reya held Quin's hand tightly, clinging to him for comfort. She'd always been strong, but this... this was too much for anyone.

Jake shifted, glancing at Tommie in the rear-view mirror. "What about your parents, Tommie?" he asked cautiously. "Where are they?"

Tommie hesitated before answering. "They're overseas... I don't know what's happening with them, but I'm hoping they're okay."

Jake nodded, but then he switched the conversation. It was like he couldn't hold it in anymore. "So... how do you feel about Ashta?"

Tommie looked surprised, probably not expecting that kind of question right now. But Jake just shrugged. "We're at the end of the world, man. May as well be honest."

Tommie sighed. "I like her, I guess. It's just complicated... because of Quin and our friendship, you know?"

Jake nodded, understanding. "Yeah, I get it. You two are close. But we're talking end-of-the-world stuff here, man. Don't let that stop you from being honest about how you feel."

Tommie hesitated, glancing down at his hands. "I just don't want to mess things up between us. Quin and I have been through a lot, and Ashta... she means a lot to him too."

Jake leaned back, giving Tommie a serious look through the mirror. "Look, Quin cares about her, but that doesn't mean you have to bury how you feel. Just be there for her, especially now. That's all that matters ."

Jake glanced at Quin, who had been quietly staring out the window. Quin suddenly turned around and jumped into the conversation, his voice calm but serious.

"Don't let our friendship get in the way, Tommie," Quin said, surprising both Jake and Tommie. "Honestly, you never know what Ashta might be feeling too. I've seen the way she looks at you sometimes."

Tommie blinked, caught off guard. "Wait, you've noticed?"

Quin gave a small nod. "Yeah, man. You've been asking about her a lot lately, and trust me, if you feel something, she might too. I'd rather you be honest with her than just keep holding it in because of me."

Jake smiled, shaking his head. "Well, there you go, Tommie. You've got Quin's blessing. Now, what's stopping you?"

Tommie stared out the window, deep in thought. He had spent so much time worrying about the dynamic between him and Quin, but maybe Quin was right. Maybe Ashta felt the same.

Back in Dad's truck, the silence between us was different—heavy, suffocating. I clutched the photo of Mom like it was the only thing tethering me to reality. My mind was racing, thinking of everything we'd just left behind, everything that was still happening out there.

"Do you really think Uncle's place will be safe?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Dad sighed, his grip tightening on the wheel. "I don't know. But it's out of town, far enough away that it might be. He's got a lot of land. We could hide out there, keep ourselves safe until... until we figure this out."

I nodded, trying to hold onto that sliver of hope. As I glanced out the window, I saw Jake's car following closely behind us. They were all relying on us to make the right decision, to keep them safe. I just hoped we weren't leading them into more danger.

Dad kept driving, his eyes forward, and I could tell he was barely keeping it together. We were all clinging to whatever hope we could find. As the truck rumbled down the empty road, I closed my eyes for just a second, wishing for something—anything—good to come out of this nightmare.

As I opened my eyes, I realized I must have fallen asleep. The exhaustion from crying had finally caught up with me. I rubbed my eyes and glanced around, trying to make sense of our surroundings.

"Dad, where are we?" I asked, trying to shake off the fog of sleep.

Dad looked tense, gripping the steering wheel tightly. "We're backed up. Everyone is trying to get out of town. There's a massive car crash up ahead—people are running, screaming, trying to get through the traffic jam."

I turned around, searching for Jake's car. My heart sank as I noticed they were nowhere in sight. Panic surged through me. "Dad, where's Jake? They're not behind us!"

Dad's face paled as he looked back, his eyes widening. "They should have been right behind us," he said, his voice trailing off as he began to frantically scan the road. "I could have sworn they were right there."

The traffic jam stretched endlessly in front of us, the chaos growing more intense. Cars were honking, people were shouting, and the scene was a blur of panic. I felt my heart pounding as I tried to keep calm. "We need to find them," I said urgently, my voice trembling. "We have to go back, Dad!"

Dad's hands were shaking as he turned the truck around, attempting to navigate through the gridlocked traffic. The distress in his eyes mirrored my own. "I'm trying," he said, his voice strained. "But it's so chaotic. We might have to find another way."

As we maneuverer through the mess, I clutched the picture of Mom tightly, tears streaming down my face. The uncertainty of not knowing where Jake and the others were made the fear and helplessness almost unbearable.