Mattie hadn't said a word, and instead sneaked off to go retrieve the clothing Nicholas had told her about. He sat next to his sister for a while just stroking her hair, hardly even possessing the ability to cry anymore as he watched his mother's lifeless body. How long would it be before she rose? The thought bothered him, because he didn't know how to dispose of the body or how quickly. Alissa shivered and whined in her sleep, but was the very farthest from sanely conscious. Nicholas ripped the bandage on her leg open and was disgusted at the oozing, greenish yellow wound that greeted him. He gagged, then crawled over to retrieve a half-empty bottle of rubbing alcohol and some gauze from a ratty first aid kit upon a shelf. All of the rags they had were dirty, and Nicholas didn't want his sister to become even more infected than she already was. Maybe she could survive. A very hopeless [i]maybe.[/i]

Cringing although the pain would not be his, Nicholas gently poured the rubbing alcohol onto the hideous wound his sister possessed. It drew a blood-curdling scream from the depths of her throat, a long, lasting one that died down only after several minutes and caused Nicholas' heart to hurt. It seemed like the alcohol had only made the wound worse as a nasty looking blackness began to fade over first the wound, then her entire leg. Nicholas quickly wrapped her whole leg in gauze out of fear.

Mattie returned, thanking him for the shelter after a moment of silence and then suggesting he get some rest. He almost laughed at the thought. Rest? How was he supposed to rest? His mother was dead, his sister dying. Their chances of survival were next to none. A scoff escaped him. He looked up at Mattie and managed to smile, though apathetically.

"Sure," he said. "I need to...take care of my mother first."

With draining strength and a dazed look, Nicholas picked himself off the floor and began to drag his mother away from Mattie and Alissa. They were still in view by the time he stopped, but a good ways away. There was a pile of blankets where they were sitting, ones that used to be his mother's. He gathered them and withdrew two small lighters from a nearby rucksack. The lighting fluid from one of the lighters was dumped on the blankets and his mother, which were bunched together. Then he lit the remaining lighter, crouched down with his arm extended, lit the fluid and quickly ducked away when it burst into flames. The smell of burning flesh would soon fill the air.

He walked back over to Mattie and Alissa and then, without a word, made himself comfortable on his own makeshift bed and closed his eyes.