World of the Dead [REWRITING]

Quinn blinked as sunlight glared through the crack in the curtains, piercing her exhausted eyes when she opened them. Her head throbbed dully and her mouth was dry. It was hard to even stay awake, with how little sleep she'd gotten that night. Man... been having a lot of shitty mornings lately.

The last night had been unnerving. The infected man had stayed at the other house for hours, making noise and keeping her up. Despite being so tired she couldn't fall back asleep. Instead, she stared at the covered window with her knife clutched tightly in her hand. Then a little after midnight, a distant crashing echoed through the neighborhood. She had no idea what it was, but it was enough to get the infected man's attention. He and several other infected let out howls as they ran off, setting her already frayed nerves even more on edge.

It was around early dawn when she relaxed enough to sleep longer than a few seconds. Even so, she guessed that her precious rest had only lasted two or three hours. Now she got to go through the day groggy and sore. Blearily she wondered what time it was. She yawned widely as she turned to where the digital alarm clock was perched on the nightstand.

A blank screen stared back at her. Right. No power.

Not wanted to linger on her brief lapse of intelligence, she rolled her neck to get the kinks out. Sleeping sitting up had been a poor choice on her part. Quinn couldn't help but wonder how she had managed to do it. But given how her joints and back popped when she moved, it wasn't easy.

Groaning, she gave Kevin a gentle shake. He grumbled and rolled away from her in response. He was curled tightly in a ball, his head nearly hidden in his arms.

"Kevin," she said, her voice raspy. "Wake up dude. I'm gonna eat without you if you don't hurry it up."

That seemed to motivate him. He sat up, his hair sticking up everywhere and his eyes still half closed. "I'm up! Can we have pancakes?"

She couldn't help but grin. He was still half asleep, which explained the optimistic but unrealistic request. That sounds really freaking good though, she thought wistfully. Just the thought of some fluffy pancakes with sweet maple syrup made her stomach rumble.

"No, we don't have anything to make them with," she apologized. "I actually don't know what we're having."

He visibly deflated. "Oh. Okay," he sighed. 

She felt a bit bad for him. They both really needed something good to happen to them, even if it was just getting something tasty to eat. And she had a feeling that the current food she had in her backpack wasn't going to cut it.

"I'll be right back," she said. Her legs wobbled as she stood, still sore from their mini marathon the day before. "We might've missed something in the kitchen last night. Who knows, maybe there's cereal or something."

Kevin's eyes brightened at that and he nodded eagerly. Walking over to the bedroom door, she pulled the chair to the side and unlocked it. She wondered briefly if maybe doing all that was overkill. But with how determined the infected were to get into any room where they thought people were, she decided it wasn't. Better safe than sorry, right?

Somehow, she reached the kitchen without falling over from how wobbly her legs were. Once again, she began to go through the cupboards and drawers and hoping that maybe she had missed something the night before. If not, they might either have to suffer through a mediocre breakfast or skip it entirely. She didn't know how long the food was going to last between the two of them. Which meant skipping meals might become necessary.

The only thing she avoided was the fridge. The sickly-sweet smell of rotting food was strong as ever, dampening her hunger slightly. While she was glad for the temporary relief, it was quickly replaced by nausea.