She tried to imagine what things would be like back homeon the farm. Was her father sitting there on the porch, his old hunting shotgunin his hands. Was he watching the corn, waiting to hear the tell-tale rustle ofthe dead as they moved through the green and brown stalks? Was he on that porchwaiting for her to come home? What about her mother? What would she be doing?Was she dusting her room, waiting for the day when Amanda would appear, walkingup the dusty, gravel road? Had her mom washed her sheets by hand, using the oldwater pump in the backyard when the electricity went away?
Sadness. She felt empty. She felt like a fool. She lovedthem, and now she would never see them, never be able to tell them how much sheloved them and how stupid she had been for leaving. Maybe just thinking it wasok. Maybe just thinking the words would be alright. If there were anafterworld, a place where good, hardworking people went when they died, perhapsthey could hear the sentiment as she thought it.
And then she imagined her father and mother lost andwalking through the corn, their bodies rotting, flies buzzing around them asthey looked for something to eat... something human. She wanted to fall down onthe stairs. She wanted to sob and cry, but she continued climbing upwards, hereyes sliding away from Rudy's underwear as he hiked up his pants again.
They reached the fourth floor of the building. The deadmilled about, turning in circles. Then they noticed the group of survivors,weapons clenched in their hands standing in the stairwell. There was a pause,almost comical, and then the dead flowed forward, as if they were all of onemind. Mort was there with his hammer, working in the small corridor. The metalhead of Mort's hammer made a clonking sound as it bounced off of the skulls ofthe dead. Mort was powerful, and she admired the way he took down the dead,grunting and sweating in the stairwell.
Katie and Chloe stood with their guns in their hands,ready to fire if the situation got out of control. Rudy stepped forward,gripping his sword, sweat pouring down his round face, his pants saggingdangerously low. Andy, the quiet boy they had saved from the movie theater,stood off to the side, his arm pulled back, the broken mop handle in his handready to be used like a spear, its wooden point still stained with blood fromwhen they had escaped the movie theater. The rest of the survivors stood back,as there was little room to maneuver in the stairwell.
The fight was quick, and then it was quiet but for thelabored breathing of Rudy and Mort, their weapons dripping blood onto thestairwell. Rudy turned to her and smiled. She smiled back. She had one friendat least.
They stood at the door to the fourth floor, wonderingwhat was on the other side. Was it something they could use? Was it justanother office? Or was it their death that was waiting for them?
Those with guns, arranged themselves around the doorway.Mort crept forward, beads of sweat hanging in his gnarled black and gray beard.His hand reached out and touched the door handle, pressing the lever downwards.The door latch clicked and then popped open. Mort eased the door wider.
No hands flew through the opening. No decayed fingerspressed around the edge of the doorway. Mort leaned his head around the side ofthe door and peered into the darkness of the fourth floor.
He pulled his head back and held up three fingers. Heleaned back inside, and with his hammer, he banged on the wall creating a dullclang. Amanda heard the groans from within, the sloppy gurgle of mindlesscreatures, and then they heard their footsteps, the jarring, jerky clomp ofshoes upon the carpeted floor.
The first one rounded a corner, a pathetic creature, itslower jaw missing and shattered upper teeth hanging there. It wore a plainwhite dress, the front stained in blood. Its copper red hair was matted to theside of its face with more blood. Its arms raised like Frankenstein's monsteras it lurched toward Mort. He stepped to the side, and the creature's ownmomentum sent it walking face first into the brutal swing of Mort's hammer. Itsremaining teeth exploded in a shower of enamel, and the force of the blow sentthe creature crashing into the wall of the stairwell. Mort was quick to finishit off, smashing its skull into the wall with another blow from his hammer.Old, rotten blood smeared the wall as the creature slid to the ground.
A janitor appeared in the doorway, his keys jangling onhis belt. Rudy stepped in to protect Mort who had his back to the doorway as hestood over the dead woman in the white dress. The janitor moved forward, fasterthan the woman, but still with those dreadful Frankenstein arms. Rudy aimed hissword upwards, and the creature impaled itself, the tip of the sword sliding upunderneath the man's jaw and into the soft area of his throat. The janitor'shead was forced upward and Rudy pushed the unfortunate man backwards. As thejanitor backed into the wall, Rudy gave one last shove and the sword slidupwards, breaking through the bone of his palette and piercing the creature'sbrain. It jittered at the end of the sword and then fell to the ground, pullingthe sword free from Rudy's hands just as a third member of the dead appeared, aminiature version of the woman in the white dress, the same red hair matted tothe side of the little girl's skull.
Rudy backed away, unable to pull his sword free. They allwatched as the little girl clomped her way towards them, her lips drawn back ina snarl, her rope-thin arms held out in front of her. Braces gleamed on heryellow teeth, and no one made a move to stop her.
Amanda, haunted by the facial features of the childstepped forward, her nightstick gripped in her hands. What she really wanted todo was wrap her arms around the dead girl and sob into her copper hair.Instead, she brought the nightstick
