I kept my eyes on the window.
Outside, the infected moved through the trees and across the clearing like they owned it. Some crouched low over bodies, tearing into them with slow, steady movements. Others wandered without direction, heads twitching, mouths stained dark. The sounds carried through the wood of the cabin.
Crunching.
Wet tearing.
Low laughter that didn't sound human anymore.
I folded my arms and muttered under my breath, then turned away.
Naomi was across the room, moving fast. She shoved supplies into a bag without much care for organization. Food, ammo, a half-empty bottle of water, and then my guns.
My eyes narrowed.
She looked up at me.
"Well?" she said. "Don't just stand there."
I didn't move.
"Or are you too injured to lift a few things?" she added.
I ignored that.
"What are we going to do about outside?" I asked.
She paused and glanced past me toward the window. Her eyes scanned the shapes moving in the dark.
