mom’s room to find some, but that’s where Stevie now rests. She decides Billy’s clothes will fit better anyway since Derek’s mom is a larger woman. Becka puts an ear to the bathroom door and listens, making sure it is safe before slipping into the hall and into Billy’s lair, naked. A funny thought hits her, and actually makes her chuckle.
“ It’s the first time a real live girl is naked in your room, and you miss it, Billy.” She raids his dresser choosing a pair of urban fatigues.
“ Fitting since I’ll be going commando anyway.” Becka absolutely refuses to wear the boy’s underwear. Braless, she puts on a gray wife beater and throws a black hooded sweatshirt over that. The hoodie is so big she practically swims in it.
She is scared about what comes next, going downstairs. She stands at the top of the flight and just looks down. It is eerily quiet as she slowly takes the first tentative step. Wood creaks under her weight; she allows time for a response from below. She takes the next and waits, then another. Becka repeats this process all the way down.
On the landing she sees the dining room to her left. The windows have been broken in and the thin drapes blow in the breeze. To the right is the living room. The shades are open, but at least the glass is intact. Opting for security she enters.
Becka crawls along the floor staying below the sill. She takes a quick peek outside and sees the gruesome profiles of the zombies walking by. They are all heading west. She slowly pulls the drapes closed.
She walks through the living room and takes a right down a short hall. On one side is the half bath and on the other is the basement, Derek’s den. She continues straight into the kitchen.
All the cabinets and counters are white. All appliances are stainless. The kitchen looks very aseptic, but still somehow inviting. In the center is a small island of white granite. The dining room is to her right accessible through a swinging door she ignores. She is heading for the back door, wanting fresh air.
The sun feels glorious on her face. She inhales deeply, feeling much better. The girl walks out onto the cement patio completely at ease, like all that has transpired today was a dream. She lets the door close itself on its spring as she revels in her fenced in patch of paradise. Her world has just opened up to this back yard and a handful of rooms. She smiles at the sky wanting more.
In the neighboring yard Becka can see a tall tree reaching over the fence. In its limbs it holds a small tree house aloft. She had always wanted one of those as a kid. What she really wants now is to go home. She wants to hold her mom. I need to get out of here, she says to herself. I need my keys. Her keys are in her purse and that is down in Derek’s room.
Derek’s basement dwelling is a mess and she can’t remember where she had left her purse amid the clutter. The dead boy’s clothes cover almost every surface that isn’t reserved for his action figures or models. She kicks at the piles in her search for her bag.
Becka notices the television is still on in the corner of the room. The title screen of the DVD they had been watching plays over and over. The musical loop is getting annoying; however, it gives her an idea.
The remote is located on the wobbly card table they had been playing their game at this weekend. She switches off the DVD player thinking how it’s probably good to give the machine a rest since it’s been running for the past 48 hours. The gray box is hot to the touch.
As the television resumes all she can find are test patterns. Some stations have only snow and static. She flips through, hoping someone is talking about whatever is going on. Finally, she finds a station with a regular broadcast. A male newscaster sits alone behind a large desk. His sculpted black hair seems a little less than perfect. His finely tailored suit is a little wrinkled around the collar. He reads robotically from a sheet of
“ It’s the first time a real live girl is naked in your room, and you miss it, Billy.” She raids his dresser choosing a pair of urban fatigues.
“ Fitting since I’ll be going commando anyway.” Becka absolutely refuses to wear the boy’s underwear. Braless, she puts on a gray wife beater and throws a black hooded sweatshirt over that. The hoodie is so big she practically swims in it.
She is scared about what comes next, going downstairs. She stands at the top of the flight and just looks down. It is eerily quiet as she slowly takes the first tentative step. Wood creaks under her weight; she allows time for a response from below. She takes the next and waits, then another. Becka repeats this process all the way down.
On the landing she sees the dining room to her left. The windows have been broken in and the thin drapes blow in the breeze. To the right is the living room. The shades are open, but at least the glass is intact. Opting for security she enters.
Becka crawls along the floor staying below the sill. She takes a quick peek outside and sees the gruesome profiles of the zombies walking by. They are all heading west. She slowly pulls the drapes closed.
She walks through the living room and takes a right down a short hall. On one side is the half bath and on the other is the basement, Derek’s den. She continues straight into the kitchen.
All the cabinets and counters are white. All appliances are stainless. The kitchen looks very aseptic, but still somehow inviting. In the center is a small island of white granite. The dining room is to her right accessible through a swinging door she ignores. She is heading for the back door, wanting fresh air.
The sun feels glorious on her face. She inhales deeply, feeling much better. The girl walks out onto the cement patio completely at ease, like all that has transpired today was a dream. She lets the door close itself on its spring as she revels in her fenced in patch of paradise. Her world has just opened up to this back yard and a handful of rooms. She smiles at the sky wanting more.
In the neighboring yard Becka can see a tall tree reaching over the fence. In its limbs it holds a small tree house aloft. She had always wanted one of those as a kid. What she really wants now is to go home. She wants to hold her mom. I need to get out of here, she says to herself. I need my keys. Her keys are in her purse and that is down in Derek’s room.
Derek’s basement dwelling is a mess and she can’t remember where she had left her purse amid the clutter. The dead boy’s clothes cover almost every surface that isn’t reserved for his action figures or models. She kicks at the piles in her search for her bag.
Becka notices the television is still on in the corner of the room. The title screen of the DVD they had been watching plays over and over. The musical loop is getting annoying; however, it gives her an idea.
The remote is located on the wobbly card table they had been playing their game at this weekend. She switches off the DVD player thinking how it’s probably good to give the machine a rest since it’s been running for the past 48 hours. The gray box is hot to the touch.
As the television resumes all she can find are test patterns. Some stations have only snow and static. She flips through, hoping someone is talking about whatever is going on. Finally, she finds a station with a regular broadcast. A male newscaster sits alone behind a large desk. His sculpted black hair seems a little less than perfect. His finely tailored suit is a little wrinkled around the collar. He reads robotically from a sheet of
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