The Hunt Chronicles (Volume 1): Awakening by J.D. Demers

took off the lock and proceeded into the backyard.  With any luck, they didn’t lock the back door either.  Privacy fences were a deterrent from would-be thieves.  Dave and I left our back door unlocked plenty of times, and we only had a chain link fence. 
    The backyard had a large wooden swing set in the corner.  The screened in patio ran the length of the back of the house.  A stone table with a built in grill ran across a third of the patio.  There were two sets of French doors.  I guessed that one went into the master bedroom. The other had a door cocked part way open, allowing me to see into a dining area.
    I cautiously approached the open door and peered inside.  I cringed at the smell of rotting flesh.  I hadn’t gotten used to it yet.  My house still carried the odor, but the one at this house was stronger. 
    I looked around the dining area, which opened into the living room.  I could see the doorway to the kitchen not far off.  Along the floor, I saw a trail of blood.  It was dried red blood, not the blackish goo the zombies leaked.  The odor of decay was pretty strong, so I stopped and listened.  I thought I heard something, but it must have been coming from somewhere deeper in the house.
    Against my better judgment, and even though my mind was screaming that continuing was a mistake, I went in.  Do you remember when I said I had to be smart and not make stupid mistakes?  Yeah, that was one of those times.  Like that time when you yell at the idiot on the TV for walking down the dark alley alone.
    I made my way toward the kitchen.  After all, that’s what I was there for.  I could hear bumps and small moans coming from the other side of the house.  I thought that must have been where the bedrooms were.  I was sure whatever was in there couldn’t hear me because the house was so large. 
    I rounded the doorway and saw what I had smelled earlier.  Just like John’s house, these people had a dog.  I thought it looked like a German Shepherd, but it was so bloody and mangled, I couldn’t be sure.
    The canine must have given a tough fight.  The dog’s blood was everywhere, but there was also zombie goo to match.  The dog’s teeth had chunks of rotten flesh stuck to them, and there were three human fingers scattered across the floor.
    “Good for you, pup,” I whispered out loud.
    I heard a bump.  Not in the kitchen, but elsewhere in the house.  The moaning seemed to get a little louder.  Not like it was coming closer, but like it was a getting little more desperate.  It was time to leave.  I didn’t want to face off against one of those things in here or draw attention to the house with a gunshot. 
    On my way out, I saw the hallway that led to the bedrooms.  There was a trail of black slime that led into it.  That must have been where the zombie went.  I was halfway out the door when I heard another noise.  It was quiet, but distinctive.  It sounded like a whine.  Whatever it was, it wasn’t coming from the zombie. Whenever it made noise, the zombie moaned louder.
    I had a sudden image of a child hiding under a bed, whimpering. 
    Holy shit , I thought.  I was conflicted.  I didn’t know if I could leave a kid to his death.  I watched the man at the intersection get eaten alive and did nothing.  Sarah died ten feet from me, and all I did was watch in horror.  Could I leave here and have this on my conscience too?  Going farther in was a mistake.  Mistakes meant death.
    A little voice in my head was saying, Leave now!  You can’t save the world.  Hell, you can barely take care of yourself .  After all, I did tell myself a few days ago that I would have to change if I were to survive. 
    That’s when another familiar voice interrupted. 
    Yeah, you have changed, son.  The old you would have already left with your tail between your legs .  It was the voice of my dad.  It was the same voice that had spoken to me a few days ago.  I knew he wasn’t there, but