Us vs. the Apocalypse
Title: Time Crunch
Word Count: 669
"Jesus, listen to it," Mason said, leaning against the window and staring out at the storm. Rain lashed against the glass and the wind howled madly against the building, causing the walls to shudder and groan. "Sounds like the fucking world is ending out there."
"Hate to break it to you..." Dixon commented idly, He was sitting in front of his open medkit, holding two rolls of gauze and glaring down at the packed box as if trying to determine what bizarre puzzle he had to solve to make them fit back in.
"You should try and get some sleep, Mase," Aura said quietly as she flipped through the map book. She wasn't really sure why she was still looking - maybe with the hopes that another town would magically appear on the map, maybe something with a wall, with a functioning hospital. Anything other than their only option. "We're not going anywhere tonight."
"I could drive back, you know," he defended, eliciting a snort from Dixon. "I'm serious! I drove in shit like this all the time before."
"Yeah? Did you drive around packs of Ollies, too?"
"Nobody drives around Ollies, Aur. You drive through them."
"And now we know why your truck is in the shop so much," Dixon murmured.
"Dix, swear to God," Mason snapped. "If you don't have anything useful to say, shut the fuck up."
"Look," Aura said, before Dixon could open his mouth to issue a response that would likely have him using the contents of his medkit on himself. "It's too risky. If we get bogged down somewhere we're screwed, so we'll stay here the night." She looked pointedly at Mason. "That's final."
He glared heavily at her a moment, looking like he fully intended to continue his argument. Instead, he set his jaw and shook his head in frustration before shoving himself away from the window and heading upstairs, his boots clomping noisily on the steps. Aura twisted slightly to watch him go, then sighed and rubbed her face.
"I'm going to hear about that tomorrow," she muttered.
"I'm amazed you didn't hear about it now," Dixon replied. "Guess he really does like you." He looked down at his watch, studied it a moment too long, and turned back to his kit. He had pulled out several more packets, now, and the plastic container still looked just as full as before. "His intentions are good, though."
"They always are." She shoved the book out of her lap and pulled the quilted blanket tight around her shoulders as another blast of wind struck the house. "How long, now?"
"Hmm?"
"You've been checking your watch every ten minutes."
"Ah." He hesitated, his fingers pinching at a sealed pack of antiseptic wipes. "He's seven hours overdue," he finally said.
"Will he be alright until morning?"
"It's not really 'until morning'," Dixon corrected. "It's still four hours driving back to Haven. Three, maybe, with the way Mason drives, but..." He shrugged his thin shoulders. "I want to say yes, but I don't know." He tilted his head at the map book. "Anything in there?"
"If the roads are good, we're maybe half an hour from Black River."
"Christ." He winced at the curse as soon as he said it, and deliberately crossed himself. "Black River's a death trap."
"I know."
"A crapshoot, too. Nobody's been there since the Breach. They might have had stock before then, but there's not really any way to know, now." He managed to fit a few of the supplies back in, but was left holding the same two rolls of gauze again.
"Do you think it's worth trying?"
"It's better than not, I suppose."
"That doesn't sound like much of a vote of confidence, Dix," she said, forcing a weak smile. He looked over at her for a long time, his face expressionless, and then simply shrugged again.
"I don't make the decisions anymore," he said quietly. "But if it's what you want, then it's what we'll do. I won't argue."
Word Count: 669
"Jesus, listen to it," Mason said, leaning against the window and staring out at the storm. Rain lashed against the glass and the wind howled madly against the building, causing the walls to shudder and groan. "Sounds like the fucking world is ending out there."
"Hate to break it to you..." Dixon commented idly, He was sitting in front of his open medkit, holding two rolls of gauze and glaring down at the packed box as if trying to determine what bizarre puzzle he had to solve to make them fit back in.
"You should try and get some sleep, Mase," Aura said quietly as she flipped through the map book. She wasn't really sure why she was still looking - maybe with the hopes that another town would magically appear on the map, maybe something with a wall, with a functioning hospital. Anything other than their only option. "We're not going anywhere tonight."
"I could drive back, you know," he defended, eliciting a snort from Dixon. "I'm serious! I drove in shit like this all the time before."
"Yeah? Did you drive around packs of Ollies, too?"
"Nobody drives around Ollies, Aur. You drive through them."
"And now we know why your truck is in the shop so much," Dixon murmured.
"Dix, swear to God," Mason snapped. "If you don't have anything useful to say, shut the fuck up."
"Look," Aura said, before Dixon could open his mouth to issue a response that would likely have him using the contents of his medkit on himself. "It's too risky. If we get bogged down somewhere we're screwed, so we'll stay here the night." She looked pointedly at Mason. "That's final."
He glared heavily at her a moment, looking like he fully intended to continue his argument. Instead, he set his jaw and shook his head in frustration before shoving himself away from the window and heading upstairs, his boots clomping noisily on the steps. Aura twisted slightly to watch him go, then sighed and rubbed her face.
"I'm going to hear about that tomorrow," she muttered.
"I'm amazed you didn't hear about it now," Dixon replied. "Guess he really does like you." He looked down at his watch, studied it a moment too long, and turned back to his kit. He had pulled out several more packets, now, and the plastic container still looked just as full as before. "His intentions are good, though."
"They always are." She shoved the book out of her lap and pulled the quilted blanket tight around her shoulders as another blast of wind struck the house. "How long, now?"
"Hmm?"
"You've been checking your watch every ten minutes."
"Ah." He hesitated, his fingers pinching at a sealed pack of antiseptic wipes. "He's seven hours overdue," he finally said.
"Will he be alright until morning?"
"It's not really 'until morning'," Dixon corrected. "It's still four hours driving back to Haven. Three, maybe, with the way Mason drives, but..." He shrugged his thin shoulders. "I want to say yes, but I don't know." He tilted his head at the map book. "Anything in there?"
"If the roads are good, we're maybe half an hour from Black River."
"Christ." He winced at the curse as soon as he said it, and deliberately crossed himself. "Black River's a death trap."
"I know."
"A crapshoot, too. Nobody's been there since the Breach. They might have had stock before then, but there's not really any way to know, now." He managed to fit a few of the supplies back in, but was left holding the same two rolls of gauze again.
"Do you think it's worth trying?"
"It's better than not, I suppose."
"That doesn't sound like much of a vote of confidence, Dix," she said, forcing a weak smile. He looked over at her for a long time, his face expressionless, and then simply shrugged again.
"I don't make the decisions anymore," he said quietly. "But if it's what you want, then it's what we'll do. I won't argue."