“Oh, God. Those poor animals.”
Amy nodded, and her voice was faint when she spoke. “Let’s go.”
Alex reached over to squeeze her hand. “I’m sorry, Amy. I really am.”
“I know.”
As Alex prepared to make a U-turn, Amy stared at the house, grief for the Robinson family weighing heavily on her heart. Suddenly, she spotted something in one of the upper-story windows, and cried, “Wait, I saw something!”
“What?” Alex slammed on the brakes.
“Up there, in the window,” Amy said, narrowing her eyes for a better look.
As she watched, the curtain twitched before it was swept aside to reveal a frightened face. It was a little girl, waving frantically at Amy and Alex.
Amy gasped. “It’s Laura.”
“Laura?” Alex asked.
“The Robinson’s granddaughter,” Amy cried out. “We have to rescue her!”
Before she could stop to think, Amy was out of the car and running toward the house. The only thought in her mind was to save that poor little girl before she could get eaten.
“Amy, no!” Alex shouted behind her, but she barely heard him. Instead, she dodged the bodies that littered the lawn and dashed into the house. Inside, it was chaos. Broken glass, furniture, and more bodies lay strewn about. Bullet holes graffitied the walls, and blood soaked the carpets.
Amy clapped one horrified hand to her mouth, but she didn’t stop. She’d only been inside the house once, but she still remembered where the stairs were. She crossed the foyer and living room in a mad dash to the steps, taking them two at a time.
On the second floor, she paused, heaving for breath. On either side stretched a long hallway filled with doors. Taking a chance, she shouted, “Laura?”
One of the doors cracked open, and a pair of frightened blue eyes stared at her. Amy almost fainted with relief. “Laura, it’s me, Amy. You don’t know me very well, but I’m here to help you.”
Laura stared at her for a second before nodding. “Okay.”
Amy reached out one trembling hand. “Come with me, sweetie. We have to leave before more zombies come.”
Behind her sounded Alex’s heavy tread on the stairs, his angry grunts harsh to her ears. She shot him a glance and pressed one finger to her lips. “Shh, you’ll scare her.”
He shot her a murderous look. “When we get out of here…”
“Yeah, yeah. You can do whatever you want then,” Amy said, turning back to Laura, who’d inched her way outside the room she’d been hiding in. “Come on, sweetie. Time to go.”
“What about Momma? And everyone else?” Laura asked.
“We’ll look for them later, okay? But right now, we need to get out of here,” Amy said.
“Alright.” Laura ran to Amy and slipped her tiny hand into hers. “I’m ready.”
“Thank God,” Alex exclaimed with one last hard look at Amy. “I hope she’s got better sense than you do.”
“She’s made it this far,” Amy said, flashing him a cheeky grin. “Lead the way, big brother.”
***
At the back of the house, an infected woman raised her head from the delicious feast before her. Blood dripped down her chin, rich and vital. Horse blood. It smeared across the name tag still affixed to her shirt, obliterating her name.
Anne.
That was who she used to be, back in the day when she still wore court shoes, painted her nails, and curled her hair. Back when she hated her job in telesales, counting the days until she could resign and marry a wealthy landowner. She’d even picked out her dream wedding dress already. The venue too. Everything was ready. She just had to meet her future husband-to-be and reel him in.
But now, Anne no longer cared about weddings or riches. Nor did she wear shoes anymore. They’d fallen along the wayside. A nuisance that slowed her down. Her hair hung lank and stringy against her decaying scalp, and her nails were broken to the quick.
Her head twitched as she listened for a repeat of the sound she’d just heard. Nothing. All she heard was her fellow zombies crunching on animal carcasses. Just when she was about to take another bite of horse entrails, she heard it again. “Amy, wait!”
Growling in anticipation, she pushed away from the already cooling flesh of the horse beneath her. Sound meant life, and life meant food. It was what she lived. Craved for. Died for.
Chapter 22 - Alex
Alex walked down the stairs in a hot temper. He was so angry at his sister that he almost missed the sound of bare feet slapping on tiled floors. He froze mid-step and raised one hand to Amy and Laura, who thankfully remained dead quiet.
A cacophony of growls broke the silence, and the tramping of a couple of feet became the march of many. His eyes widened when he realized what was coming their way, and he knew they’d never make it to the car. “Back, go back!”
Alex turned around and hustled the girls up the stairs, praying there was a way out for them. Or at least, a safe place they could hide.
Laura didn’t dawdle, rushing back to her previous hiding spot with a shrill scream of terror. Amy followed, with Alex taking up the rear, his wound forgotten for the moment.
They climbed the last of the steps just as the horde reached the bottom, their hungry cries spurring them on. Together, they slipped inside Laura’s bedroom and slammed the door shut.
Seconds later, many fists banged on the door until it sounded like a beating drum. The wood splintered around the lock and hinges. It wouldn’t last very long. Alex cast around for an answer and spotted a massive chest of drawers. “Help me!”
He pushed the object toward the entrance, joined by Amy. They slid it in front of the bulging door, then added everything and anything they could lay their hands on: a toy box, chair, mirror, the lot.
Heaving for breath,
