"Right" I nod and climb up to the second floor window. "I swear if she is already dead, I'm going to revive her just to kill her myself" I muttered as I go from room to room searching for her. James stays outside holding the glock at the ready as I head in. As I look around there's a bit of whimpering and soft sobs coming from the cupboard under the bathroom sink. I slowly open the cupboard "Susan?" I whisper. There is blood on her ankle. Without thinking a yank here foot so I can see her ankle better, she yelps and smacks her forehead on the pipe under the sink. I shove a hand towel in her mouth and take another look and her ankle.

Susan spits the rag out and glares at me. " Ow! Stop that! It’s not a bite. I smashed my ankle with the cupboard door trying to hide." she snaps.

“Dumbass.” I mutter. I wipe away the blood with a towel and super glue her wound shut but when I look up at her she is giving me the mother of all glares.

“What?”

“That was one of my good towels.”

. “You really think that matters now? There is a big chance that we will never be back here after today and you wanna bitch at me for getting blood on your good towels?” I pinch the bridge of my nose and prepare for the headache caused by her stupidity.

“They cost a lot of money.” she whined

“Well would you rather lose your foot due to infection later?”

“No.”

“Then quit your bitching. How much were you able to pack before you hid in here?”

“I was able to grab the tent, change my clothes and grab Chads soap.”

“So you haven’t even been in the kitchen yet?

“Not yet, no.”

“Let’s go pack the kitchen.” As quietly as possible I grab the duffel bag from the hallway and head downstairs.