Click | Chapter 7 If you've ever had an eyebrow conversation, you'll know how awkward this is. I stand there uncomfortably, hat on the floor, trying to communicate without a voice. " " " " He does the same back. I walk across the room, past him, to the cashier on the counter. I punch in as many numbers as I can, an receive the longest receipt I've ever seen from the top. Using a pen he found in a drawer, we manage to communicate a plan to each other on how to survive until the vote. From then we keep the shop closed, prop the dead shopkeeper up on his seat to make it look like he's just asleep, and camp out in the store room, with blankets and enough food to keep us alive until we can leave. Days pass quickly, and we take turns in keeping watch during the day for any clickers. 23 days until the vote. It's the early hours of morning, and we're just beginning to wake up when the door shatters in the front room. The boy looks at me and I stare back alarmed as we try to throw as much as we can onto the floor to make it look like a burglar, not two stowaways. He grabs my arm and points to the ceiling, where there's a small trapdoor concealed in white plaster. He climbs on my back and punches the door. Small drops of blood are left on the ceiling as we both climb up as the store room wall is obliterated by heavy machine gun fire. Armed Clickers walk into the space below us, and try to make sense of the mess we've made. "He must've been on crack," one voice says, and we hear the footsteps slowly fade away from underneath us. We breathe a sigh of relief and smile, As we look at the other Silencers in the attic.