FRANK

Frank and Gillian were waiting by the stairs when Matt and Sarah returned from gathering more weapons. They each had a blue bag slung over one shoulder, three rifles thrown over the other shoulder, and pistols in shoulder holsters, hip holsters, thigh holsters, and back pockets. They were prepared for war. Frank’s face paled slightly at the sight of them decked out in military chic, and Gillian cowered further behind her grandfather’s leg.

“We have our vehicle. While you were changing, we loaded it with as much of the non-perishables we could carry. We also gathered some blankets and extra clothing just in case.” Frank gestured to the packs lying at their feet. He kept his voice steady and clear, unwilling to show just how uncomfortable he was around guns. He’d tried hunting a few times over the years, but it’d just never appealed to him. His son had been the avid gun collector. Frank inwardly winced; the image of George as he’d last seen him would never fade.

“We’ll be driving out of town to a house we know of. I don’t know what we’ll be driving into, or what to expect there, but you may end up having to shoot something.” Sarah handed him a .38 with a box of ammo. Frank’s face must have clearly shown his feelings on guns, because Sarah added, “I know this is hard, but please remember that any hesitation on your part could cost you your life. Or hers.” Sarah gestured to Gilly, still clinging fervently to Frank’s leg. “This is a war, and I intend to live. Will you be okay?”

“I have to be. We’ll follow you. Thank you. For everything you’ve done for us.” At her confused expression, he continued. “You’ve given us hope when we were hopeless. You’ve shown compassion, when you could’ve just been rid of us. You’ve shown us it might be possible to actually live again.”

 

SARAH

As they drove off quickly toward the freeway, Sarah put her foot down; the streets were empty anyway. The house was located approximately ten miles out of town, off a small frontage road, over an old rickety bridge. Matt and Sarah drove in a silence that was starting to become uncomfortable by the time they crossed the bridge.

“We’ll have to find a way to block access to the bridge once we get settled. I want to be able to cross it, but not have anyone follow us. Maybe Frank can help you engineer something?” She said to break the tension.

“Yeah, we could probably rig up something. Maybe a hydroelectric fence too. We could activate a gate with a special sensor device that would have to be added to our cars. I’ll ask him about it later. This really is a perfect spot.” His voice was distant and had a tremor to it that she didn’t understand.

She wanted him to talk to her, but knew that she would have to wait until he was ready. In the meantime, she visually checked out the house and surrounding area as Matt stopped the truck. It really was more perfect than she’d remembered. The only easily accessible area was the bridge that they’d just crossed, and if Matt was right, they would be able to manage that with a strong fence. There was a small glen filled with budding fruit trees hiding the left front of the house. To the right, between the house and the pond, was the small farm complete with pasture for horses. If they were able to replace the horses with cows, they would have dairy products. Add a few more chickens into the coops already set up, and they’d be set. Sarah smiled in satisfaction at her choice of dwelling, as well as the knowledge that with all the work it took to tending a farm, she’d never be bored again.

The car doors slamming in the driveway was the only disturbance to an otherwise peaceful setting. If they hadn’t just witnessed the destruction the virus had had on the town, they never would have believed it. This was a place of serenity, peace, and promise. They all shared the hope that this would truly be home.

“Wow. I’ve lived here my whole life and I never knew that this place existed. Is this your house?” Frank asked as he stretched and visibly relaxed for the first time since they met.

“No. I don’t know who lives here. You should take Gillian and wait in your truck while Matt and I check things out. We’ll come get you after—when we have a better idea of what’s going on.” Sarah pulled out one of the shotguns and clasped it to her belt holster as she talked. She hid one pistol in her back pocket, another under her shirt and tucked extra ammo in her front pockets. Anyone looking would only see the shotgun, but underneath the innocent girl façade, she was dressed to kill.

 

MATT

The image of Sarah covered in blood was haunting Matt. It was dredging up memories he had thought were long buried. He knew he should explain, but the flashbacks made him weak and insecure.

He had a newfound respect for Sarah. She was able to be strong while opening herself up to him, being vulnerable in a way he didn’t fully understand until now. He didn’t like these feelings of weakness, knowing that Sarah deserved a strong man, someone stronger than him. He knew she needed an explanation, but didn’t know how she’d react to the weakness inside him. He couldn’t lose her. It was too painful to even think about.

He was interrupted from his internal debate by her soft voice.

“Should we knock, or just barge in?” she whispered. He could hear faint tremors in her voice. He hated that he was so distracted with his problems that he couldn’t comfort her properly.

“Why would we knock? We’d lose the element of surprise.” His voice was gruff with frustration and suppressed anger at himself. He winced when he saw her flinch. He definitely owed her an explanation.

“What if they’re still home, alive and as prepared as we are?” Sarah replied, her voice gruff. He knew she was trying to hide the hurt she felt at his sharp tone. “People don’t live like this for no reason. This place is so secluded, and filled with so much livestock; I don’t think the zombies would come here. I think we should knock, just in case.” She ended quietly, subdued.

She had a point. This thing hit so fast and without warning, he hadn’t expected there to be many survivors. Frank and Gillian had caught him unawares. Maybe Sarah was right. At his sharp nod, Sarah knocked. She was the less intimidating of the two, even all decked out in weaponry.

They waited for a response. Nothing. She knocked again. When there was still no reply, she tried the handle. The door swung open.

“Hello? Anyone here?” There was no response to her calls, but the stench of death permeated the room. She turned to Matt. “I don’t think they made it. Let’s go.” The smell was worse the further inside they went. The house had an open floor plan with the garage and laundry facilities to the right and the bedrooms to the left. The door they entered opened into the spacious living room with kitchen separated only by a tall countertop. Sarah headed for the kitchen while Matt went to scope out the laundry room and garage.

Matt didn’t want to be caught off guard, so he made sure to check both the washer and dryer, as well as all the corners of the room where something could be hiding. He opened the garage and turned on the light. It was immaculately clean and organized. There wasn’t a place to hide a rat, let alone a zombie. He ran a quick visual check around, marveling in the supplies that were so well maintained, when he heard a muffled yell from behind him. Back in the house he saw Sarah staring blankly down the hall. She was pale, and looked like she was struggling to maintain composure.

“What is it?” He whispered.

“They’re dead. In the kitchen. It’s bad.” He peered over the counter and was grateful that he’d emptied his stomach earlier. From what he could tell, there were at least two bodies. At least, there were two different shades of hair still dangling from the cabinetry. Both heads had been completely yanked from the bodies and were lying in a pulverized heap by the cabinets under the sink, the hair stuck up in clumps. The bodies were slumped in a desiccated pile, further down the counter, almost as if they’d been caught in an attempt to flee to the garage. The blood had congealed into a thick rusty brown color, tainting the entire kitchen surface. It was truly a horrific sight that would give him new nightmares to contend with.

He walked back over to Sarah with shaky steps. He took her in his arms and just held her for a minute. He hoped that this would be the worst of it, but with the size of the house, he was terrified of finding bodies of children.

“Do you want to find another place? We don’t have to stay here. There may be more.” He hoped that she understood what he was saying. He couldn’t verbalize his worst fears. He wanted her to be prepared, in case there were more corpses to be found. She shook her head.

“No, this is perfect. We obviously need to be more prepared than they were, and I really don’t want to search another house. This is bad enough, and the longer it takes us to find a place, the worse the destruction and decay will be. Let’s just get this over with. We’ll have to dispose of that mess before Frank and Gillian come in though. There’s no reason to subject them to that horror.” She pushed off of the counter she was leaning against and headed toward the hall of bedrooms.

He moved ahead of Sarah, wanting to enter the bedrooms first in case they came across more scenes like the one in the kitchen. If there was anything else dead in this house he didn’t want her to be unprepared and have to live with those visions as well. The first door they came to was the pantry, quickly followed by the linen closet. Across the hall was the first bathroom that was as immaculate as the garage had been. They looked in the shower and under the sink. The bathroom was next to the master bedroom, and there were two more bedrooms across the hall.

“I’ll take the master, if you want to take the other rooms,” she suggested. He nodded in agreement.

He went into the first room, and opened the door to an office. He scoped the room, leaving no corner unchecked.

In the middle of the door to the final room, stenciled in lavender, was a name. Hailey. Oh, dear, god, no. His hands shook as he opened the door. The lavender walls were decorated with various types of carousel horses. The open curtains letting light into the room gave it a warm, happy feel. The small toddler bed was perfectly made with stuffed horses thrown haphazardly across the pillows. The entire room, including the closet and under the bed, was completely, blessedly, empty.

SARAH

The master bedroom was pristine. Sarah bent to check under the bed before she opened the closet or bathroom doors, wanting to make sure no one would sneak up on her. The closet was jam-packed with clothing, but, thankfully, clear of bodies. She crossed the bedroom, and pulled open the door to the master bathroom. She half expected to be assaulted with the smell of death again, but was relieved to smell roses. The bathroom was clean and empty. There was a window over the large bathtub. It looked out at a small mother-in-law’s cottage. Even from this distance, Sarah could see that the door to the small house was hanging on a hinge, and splattered with blood.

“Sarah?”

She jumped, unaware that Matt had joined her. “We have one more place to check.” She pointed to the cottage. “Let’s lock up the house so no one comes in while we check that out. We can leave the front door unlocked, I’ll tell Frank to watch it.”

They quickly and methodically locked all the doors and windows of the house, apart from the front door. Then, together, they walked over to Frank’s truck to explain that while it was empty, Frank and Gillian should wait until they’d had a chance to check a few more things out, and clean up a little before they went in. Frank cast Sarah a grateful look.

Matt entered the cottage as Sarah stood point. The smell wasn’t quite as bad as in the large house, but then this house hadn’t been completely closed up. She’d wondered about the closed door in the large house, but shrugged it off, hoping that they’d find answers here. Sarah hoped there was a survivor and they’d know what had happened. This house also opened into a living room, although it was much smaller with a very dainty kitchen attached to one side and the doors to the only bedroom and bathroom still swinging in the breeze. Unlike the main house, this one was a complete mess. Sarah waited while Matt stood in the doorway, scanning what he could see of the living room and kitchen, assessing where he should look first, when he stiffened.

“The zombie is still here,” he whispered.

Sarah watched Matt step further into the living room, keeping the wall as close to his back as he could. His body was taut, as he crossed the floor to the kitchen and the two open doors. Sarah followed him into the kitchen. It was as messy as the living room, but there were no zombies. He walked toward the bathroom, using one hand to widen the open door as Sarah came through behind him.

“Wow. It’s a mess. Have you found anything yet?” She said.

“I heard something,” Matt said. As soon as he placed his hand against the door, it burst open, revealing a zombie, red-tinted saliva dripping from its mouth.

Sarah shot at it, deliberately aiming wide and low to avoid hitting Matt. Her goal was to simply distract the zombie so Matt could kill it. Sarah’s shot succeeded not only in distracting the zombie, but also in jolting Matt into action. He lifted his gun and shot the zombie in the back of the head with his 357 Magnum, the barrel of the gun touching her blood-soaked hair. The front of her head exploded like a ripe melon, the hollow point bullet sending chunks of brain and skull flying through the small area, her body slumping to the floor with a quiet grace.

Sarah quickly made her way into the middle of the room, keeping her gun alternately trained on all three doors. She waited patiently for Matt to gather himself so they could be done with this. She’d had enough of killing things.

Matt nodded at Sarah and entered the bathroom. He checked everything, just to make absolutely certain there weren’t any more surprises, and walked back out. Sarah maintained her post, gun methodically sweeping between the doors as Matt quickly went to the bedroom. An old mothball aroma wafted from the room, confirming her suspicions that an older person, possibly the zombie they’d just killed, had lived here.

Sarah’s heart was slamming in her chest as she scanned the room for any other signs of that they were not alone. She could hear Matt searching the bedroom, and knew he was high alert. She heard a door creak open, followed by a surprised grunt. She rushed into the room, ready to shoot. It took her a moment to process the two bodies intertwined on the floor.

“Sarah, don’t shoot! It’s a dog,” Matt said, as he shoved the animal off his chest.

“I see that,” she said, grinning. “What was it doing in the closet?” She holstered her gun, content that they’d destroyed the zombie that had gotten to the people in the main house.

“I have no idea. Let’s go get Frank and Gillian. She’ll be excited to see the dog.” Sarah felt like it was an omen, finding the dog here. They had owned a dog growing up, and both Matt and Sarah shared fond memories. They knew it was just the thing to make this truly a home.