got out with their weapons. Emily had brought her .38 special, while Neil and Butter each carried a 9mm Glock. Butter grabbed a bat, too. The men were nothing if not resourceful. They circled around to the back of the house and approached through the trees. They watched for a minute, but there was no movement.
“Time to go check it out,” Emily said. She started to stand, but Neil yanked her back down to where he and Butter were squatting.
“Wait,” he said. He picked up a rock and chucked it at the house. It bounced off the first-floor window, but nothing happened.
“There’s no one there,” Emily protested. This was a waste of time.
“One more,” Neil said. He picked up another rock and threw it. This time the window shattered and a face appeared in its place. “Gotcha,” he said.
Neil climbed out from the trees and aimed for the Infected’s head. It opened its mouth, but didn’t make a noise before Neil had put it down. The sound of the gunfire would undoubtedly bring more if there were any others in the area.
The Infected collapsed where it was, half in and half out of the house.
“Nice shot, boss,” Butter said. Neil was silent as they walked up to the house and peeked inside. It was dark. Emily didn’t see any others right away, but she was wary as they tried the back door.
“Locked,” Neil said.
“Check under the mat,” Emily pointed at a tattered welcome mat that read Home Sweet Home .
“Nothing,” he said, holding it by one corner.
“Over here,” Butter handed him a key. “It was under the flower pot.”
“Predictable,” Neil commented, sliding the key into the lock. “Good thing we aren’t robbers.”
He pulled the back door open and the scent of sweat and rotting food wafted out.
“Ladies first,” he said to Butter.
“Fuck you,” Butter said as he stepped into the door, gun raised. Sunlight streamed into the kitchen from the broken window and open door, but they were too busy looking for Infected to notice. Emily held her flashlight up as they walked around the empty room. The only thing around was the rotting Z Neil had put down.
“Start looking around,” Butter told Emily. “We’re going to check the rest of the house.”
The farmhouse wasn’t big. There were two stories, but judging from the exterior, the upper floor was probably a single bedroom and bathroom. The old woman Neil had shot wasn’t moving or twitching, but Emily kept an eye on her, anyway. Z’s were quick and she didn’t want to be caught unprepared.
Not today.
She quickly rummaged around in the cupboards. There were several reusable shopping bags beneath the sink and she filled them with crackers, pasta, nuts, and coffee. Emily didn’t want to open the fridge, but she did, and found two water bottles among the rotting food.
The freezer was empty save for a bottle of Jack, and she tossed that in the bag, as well. Lucky find, she thought. The gang would enjoy that later.
When the guys came back downstairs, they handed her a few bottles of pills they had found in the upstairs bathroom. Butter checked for a basement, but didn’t see one. He grabbed a set of keys from the counter and headed outside.
“Gonna take a look in the garage,” he called out, and headed out to see whether or not the dead lady had a car they could use.
Neil helped Emily haul their loot to the car, then returned to the house to get blankets and pillows. Emily went upstairs to check for clothes. Almost everything was 10 years out of date and wouldn’t fit her or Kari. While Emily would have once loved to be as thin as she was now, she was finding it difficult to keep her once-tight clothing on. Everything was baggy now. She grabbed a flannel nightgown and brought it out to the car. It might be way too big, but would keep her warm during the coming winter nights.
As she reached the car, she heard the sound of another engine and Butter appeared in a little beat-up truck.
“A pickup!” He yelled out the window,
“Time to go check it out,” Emily said. She started to stand, but Neil yanked her back down to where he and Butter were squatting.
“Wait,” he said. He picked up a rock and chucked it at the house. It bounced off the first-floor window, but nothing happened.
“There’s no one there,” Emily protested. This was a waste of time.
“One more,” Neil said. He picked up another rock and threw it. This time the window shattered and a face appeared in its place. “Gotcha,” he said.
Neil climbed out from the trees and aimed for the Infected’s head. It opened its mouth, but didn’t make a noise before Neil had put it down. The sound of the gunfire would undoubtedly bring more if there were any others in the area.
The Infected collapsed where it was, half in and half out of the house.
“Nice shot, boss,” Butter said. Neil was silent as they walked up to the house and peeked inside. It was dark. Emily didn’t see any others right away, but she was wary as they tried the back door.
“Locked,” Neil said.
“Check under the mat,” Emily pointed at a tattered welcome mat that read Home Sweet Home .
“Nothing,” he said, holding it by one corner.
“Over here,” Butter handed him a key. “It was under the flower pot.”
“Predictable,” Neil commented, sliding the key into the lock. “Good thing we aren’t robbers.”
He pulled the back door open and the scent of sweat and rotting food wafted out.
“Ladies first,” he said to Butter.
“Fuck you,” Butter said as he stepped into the door, gun raised. Sunlight streamed into the kitchen from the broken window and open door, but they were too busy looking for Infected to notice. Emily held her flashlight up as they walked around the empty room. The only thing around was the rotting Z Neil had put down.
“Start looking around,” Butter told Emily. “We’re going to check the rest of the house.”
The farmhouse wasn’t big. There were two stories, but judging from the exterior, the upper floor was probably a single bedroom and bathroom. The old woman Neil had shot wasn’t moving or twitching, but Emily kept an eye on her, anyway. Z’s were quick and she didn’t want to be caught unprepared.
Not today.
She quickly rummaged around in the cupboards. There were several reusable shopping bags beneath the sink and she filled them with crackers, pasta, nuts, and coffee. Emily didn’t want to open the fridge, but she did, and found two water bottles among the rotting food.
The freezer was empty save for a bottle of Jack, and she tossed that in the bag, as well. Lucky find, she thought. The gang would enjoy that later.
When the guys came back downstairs, they handed her a few bottles of pills they had found in the upstairs bathroom. Butter checked for a basement, but didn’t see one. He grabbed a set of keys from the counter and headed outside.
“Gonna take a look in the garage,” he called out, and headed out to see whether or not the dead lady had a car they could use.
Neil helped Emily haul their loot to the car, then returned to the house to get blankets and pillows. Emily went upstairs to check for clothes. Almost everything was 10 years out of date and wouldn’t fit her or Kari. While Emily would have once loved to be as thin as she was now, she was finding it difficult to keep her once-tight clothing on. Everything was baggy now. She grabbed a flannel nightgown and brought it out to the car. It might be way too big, but would keep her warm during the coming winter nights.
As she reached the car, she heard the sound of another engine and Butter appeared in a little beat-up truck.
“A pickup!” He yelled out the window,
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