“Yeah, sure,” Ryan said.
“No ‘
“Got it,” Ryan said with a crisp tone.
Cahz tried the handle on the back door. It didn’t budge. Drawing his knife from its sheath, he slipped the point between the window and the frame. Gently he pulled back but there was no give.
“Check your side,” he instructed Cannon.
“Nothing boss,” Cannon confirmed after trying the windows on his side.
“I didn’t figure we’d get in that easy.” Cahz took a couple of steps back and gestured for the other two to do the same. He aimed his carbine at the space between the lock and the door, a steady green dot marking the intended target.
Cahz fired. Splinters of wood burst out from above the lock, pale and fresh in comparison to the weathered paint.
“Go.”
Cannon stepped up to the door and booted the handle. The door shuddered and edged forward. A second thunderous kick and the door flew open.
As it did, Cahz stepped inside.
The kitchen was musty and dry. The air was stale with the smell of mould.
The two soldiers scanned the room for danger, pistols at the ready. A trickle of blood mustered at Cahz’s wrist before dripping off to the floor. His fear and adrenaline was more than enough to mask the clawing pain from his wound.
“Clear,” Cahz said in a subdued voice.
“We’ve found dinner,” Cannon said and he nodded to the kitchen floor.
One of the kitchen cupboards was open and a horde of tins neatly laid out on the tiled floor. There was even a can opener resting on top of a tin of meatballs.
A floorboard creaked from overhead. Both men looked at the ceiling. A soft muffled moan found its way to their ears.
Cahz signalled towards the kitchen door. Cannon slid an empty cereal box from his path and stepped up. He slowly turned the handle and pulled it open.
Cahz scanned the dim hallway, his gun sweeping the empty space, primed for action.
“Clear,” he said in a voice just loud enough for Cannon to hear.
A dark winter coat lay in a heap piled up against the wall and a knocked over corner table had spilled a few household bills across his path, but aside from these few scattered objects the hall was deserted. There were two doors. The one on the right was open, the one on the left was closed.
Cahz could see the door closest to him led to a small toilet that occupied much of the understairs space. As he edged forward he could see the room was empty. The toilet was clogged with the decomposed remnants of rotten stool and wet wipes. He moved on, making a cursory check of the closed door on the right. He placed his gloved hand on the handle and checked it was secure. It no doubt led to the living room, but as all was quiet behind the firmly shut door.
Cahz decided to press on.
The moan was clearer now and there was a scratching and creaking from upstairs.
“Clear up or clear out?” Cannon whispered.
It was a good point, Cahz thought. They could easily leave and find another property, an empty property. But they could spend half the day trying to find somewhere like that.
“No time,” Cahz whispered back. “Only sounds like one. Should be quick enough to neutralize it.”
He stepped up to the front door.
Something crunched and jingled underfoot. He glanced down to see what he presumed were the former owner’s house keys. He stepped past the abandoned keys and onto the first stair.
The carpeted step creaked under his weight, not the worrying sound of rotten wood, just the natural expected groan from an old staircase. But it was a louder noise than Cahz would have liked and it precipitated an upsurge of noise from the creature ahead.
Cahz swiftly climbed the stairs. The wallpaper had waist high dirty drag marks in random patches all the way up. Behind him he heard the heavy footfalls of his comrade.
At the top of the landing the source of the moans became apparent. Although there were three doors on this floor, two were open and the sound was definitely coming from behind the closed door. Pinned to the closed door at eye level was an envelope, its white paper yellowed, and even though the writing was obscured by a thin layer of dust, the name ‘TONY’ was still visible in bold black letters.
“Cover the door,” Cahz whispered.
Cannon nodded and took up position.
Cahz ducked down the hallway and peeked into the first room. The unkempt double bed and the ransacked dresser made the room look like a crime scene, but other than the mess it was empty. He moved on to give the second room a brief examination. Even with the cartoon character adorned curtains closed, there was enough light to see the child’s bedroom was also empty.
“Looks clear,” Cahz informed his partner.
“It’s definitely coming from in there,” Cannon confirmed.
“You kick the door open. I’ll blow its brains out.”
Cannon nodded.
Cahz mouthed a countdown, the culmination of which was Cannon’s sharp kick.
The force of the kick shattered the feeble lock and threw the door flying. A blizzard of paper whipped up into the air, carried by the gust from the swinging door. But before the door could open fully it smacked against something and reverberated back.
Cahz raced through the opening. The small bathroom was littered with sheets of paper and the white enamel surfaces were smeared with brown smudges. He turned into the blind spot behind the door just as a pair of dead hands grabbed for him.
The woman’s long black hair obscured most of her face, but one pale dead eye had locked its gaze onto his. Her head cocked slightly to the side and her raw lips parted, revealing glistening teeth in a black mouth. With a hiss of putrid breath she lunged.
Cahz was well prepared for this encounter and as the zombie lurched forward he fired.
With most of her brains splattered against the shower curtain, the zombie toppled to the floor. She smashed off the edge of the bathtub, spilling more of her contaminated juices before crumpling in a heap on the bathroom floor.
Cahz drew a sleeve across his lips, the bitter tang in the air a sharp reminder of the rancid taste in his mouth.
“Clear,” he said.
The creature lay there spent and unmoving. Her ragged hair lay clear of her face, vacant dead eyes staring off into the distance.
Cahz heard a splash as a droplet of ickier fell onto a sheet of paper on the floor. Strangely, pages of plain white paper littered the room. He knelt down and picked one up. There was a crude doodle on the sheet, a knot of orange and green and blue. He picked up a second from the dozens. There was again a profusion of lines snaking their way around the sheet in every imaginable colour. As Cahz looked closely, all of the pages had some adornment of splodges and scribbles.
“You okay in there, boss?” Cannon asked.
“The note on the door,” Cahz said in a shaky tone. “Read it.”
“What?”
Cahz marched out of the bathroom and snatched the letter down. He ripped it open and whipped out the contents.
“What’s it say?” Cannon asked, baffled by its sudden significance to Cahz.
“Tony, I’m so sorry. I know you told us to stay inside but you’ve been gone so long. I know I shouldn’t have, but I was worried about you. Don’t open the bathroom door.” Cahz looked back at the scattered paper on the floor. He
