There was no sound from in there, and they could see thegleam of metal as their flashlights lit up a silver SUV. Lou stepped inside,and the others stayed back by the door, giving him room to work if he neededit.
"Hell, yeah," Lou said as he bent down in thedarkness. When he came back up, he turned towards them, holding a green,rectangular box. "We got beer, baby."
Katie began to laugh hysterically. Lou's face showeddismay and then anger.
"What's so funny?" he asked.
"That's O'Douls," she said. "It'snon-alcoholic."
It took a moment for it to sink in, and then Lou tossedthe twelve-pack aside and muttered, "Shit."
There was nothing else in the garage besides some toolsand a freezer that they dared not open, so they raided the kitchen of all itsdry goods. They sat in the living room, their haul spread out before them, canswith labels that seemed almost otherworldly. They picked from the pile at will,a can opener doing the rounds as they stuffed their faces with things thatKatie would have turned her nose up at just a month ago.
She popped the lid off a can and stared down at thecontents inside. Noodles floated in red sauce, and she plunged her spoon intothe can. Some of the red sauce spilled on her shirt, but she didn't care. Theflavors exploded in her mouth, and she felt as if it were the best thing shehad ever tasted in her life. Who knew Spaghettios could taste this good?
With her spoon, she smacked Mort on the hand as hereached for a can of chili. "Uh-uh. Not if we're going to be riding in thesame car together."
Mort looked hurt and then grabbed a can of soup."That's probably a good idea. No one eat the chili."
They all laughed, as Mort pulled the top off of the canof soup. It was condensed chicken noodle, budget-style, in a plain can that wasobviously a generic store brand. He brought the can to his face and scooped outa heaping spoonful of noodles. He chewed it sloppily, as they all did, toohungry and tired to give a shit about etiquette. There was no etiquette in thisworld, and it was freeing. They didn't have to sit at the table. They didn'thave to worry about their manners; they just ate, smiling, making smalltalk,until there was a bang on the sliding glass door.
In a flash, all the happiness was sucked out of the room.They sat in silence, their spoons frozen, and then the bang came again. Lou sethis can of soup down on the table, not caring that some broth dripped down ontothe white doily. He rose from his seat, and crept over to the blinds. Hegrasped the beaded chain and pulled on it. The blinds opened wide, and therewas one of the dead, a shirtless fiend with a mangled face. It looked as if hehad lost the skin on his entire face. Shredded muscle and white bits ofcartilage peeked out through its bloody visage. It pressed its face up againstthe glass, mouth opening and closing like a fish sucking for air, pawing atthem with a bloody hand and thumping the glass with its other arm, which endedin a stump.
They had to kill it, otherwise it would bring more. Lougrabbed a metal baseball bat that he had found in one of the rooms, a silverEaston with a black handle. He unlocked the sliding glass door and threw itwide open. He shoved the thing backwards, and it fell onto the concrete of thepatio. He straddled the creature as it lay on its back, and he brought the batdown onto its face. The bat made a metal "ting" and then the creature'sarms stopped moving for good. They fell slowly, as if the life were slowlydraining out of the poor thing. Lou stood on the patio, breathing heavy.
"We're never going to get peace here. Not until weget out of this place."
They knew it was true. Katie knew it was true. Shegrabbed another spoonful of Spaghettios, almost gagging on the perfectly roundmeatball that she chewed in her mouth. Suddenly, she didn't feel like eating,but she did it anyway. The baby inside of her demanded that she did.
When they were done eating, they rose from their seats inthe living room, the sliding glass door closed and locked once more, the blindspulled shut. They walked through the house, tossing the contents like policewith a search warrant. The owners were dead, choosing to leave the world ontheir own terms rather than becoming one of those things out there. Some wouldcall it a cowardly act, but Katie knew differently. She knew how hard it was topull the trigger on oblivion. The people that killed themselves, they wereprobably the bravest of humanity, unafraid of wondering what was on the otherside of life.
Katie pulled a drawer out of a nightstand in one of theunused bedrooms. It looked like a child had lived here at some time. Thebedroom had the feeling of a museum, an unused shrine to a child that had grownup and moved away. Trophies stood on the nightstand, baseball and soccer, thesafe sports. Katie smiled at that. She had never let her own son, what was hisname? She had never let him play any of the dangerous sports either. Nofootball. No hockey. Just soccer and baseball. Maybe she should have let himplay those other ones, maybe then he'd still be alive. Maybe it would havetoughened him up a bit, made him stronger, more prepared for the world afterthe world. But if he had survived, then she would have been stuck playingnursemaid to the little brat.
She felt bad thinking it, but she thought it anyway. Itwas natural to her, as natural as being a mother was unnatural to her. Her handwent unconsciously to her stomach, and she stopped to see if she felt anythingfor the
