8) Broken Abyss

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Chapter 8 --- Land of the Dead

Broken Abyss

Jett hummed to himself as he pulled up in the driveway of an old house, which was smothered in cracked paint the colour of the sky on a rainy day. Clumps of dried paint still clung to the house, mainly around the boarded windows and the roof.

"This looks like a brilliant place." Jett murmured to himself, before uttering the words "We're here!" Almost everyone groaned in reply, shuffling about in their seats so that they could get out. Jett opened the car door and stepped outside onto the driveway. He took in the fact that there were very few flesh-eaters out and about. Alice climbed out of the car and groggily rubbed her eyes before stretching and yawning.

"I'm bored." She stated simply as Slate slipped out of the car. "Can't we do something fun for once? All we ever do is chop off zombies heads. That's not even fun anymore."

"Was that ever fun in the first place?" Slate murmured as he passed by her. She glared at his back as he passed.

"In a way, it was. But then, when Flynn died, everything..."

Alice trailed off as Slate paused abruptly. He slowly arched his neck and looked into Alice's piercing eyes as Ivy started wailing from the car.

"You must be joking," Slate growled. "Alison. I want all conversation about Flynn to cease already...for goodness sake, you don't know whether or not he's dead or whether or not he's sunbathing out on a private island." And with that he disappeared behind the Subaru. Alice shook her head and tried to suppress her laughter, failing miserably.

"Out sunbathing on a private island? Slate, you must be the one surely joking around."

Jett rounded the car and started to tug viciously on Alice's blonde hair, which had been scraped back into a ponytail. She screamed and kicked and then pointed the gun she was holding at her brothers head.

"Oh, stop it, I feel so flattered." He said, knocking the gun out of her grasp. "You wouldn't even dare." Alice frowned and Jett started pulling on her ponytail again.

"Let's go, before we attract any more zombies. I'm sure Slate and Ivy would gladly throw you into a pit of them."

"Shut up!" Alice scooped up the gun and walked up the driveway towards the house. Jett put a finger to his lips, signalling for them to be quiet. Ivy stayed put in the car as Slate, Jett and Alison crept as silent as they could up the cobblestone driveway. On the count of three, Jett kicked open the door, sending it off its hinges. It hit the wall and then collapsed onto the floor.

"So much for being quiet." Alice murmured as Jett and Slate carefully stepped inside of the house. The walls and floors were laced with dried blood. Slate carefully lifted up a sheet of crinkled paper that had been left on a table. Underneath it he found a crinkled photograph in sepia, the faces of two young girls and a man and a woman blurred and smudged. He picked it up and examined it carefully, eyes glazing up and down over its surface. Slate carefully laid the photo back down, feeling sorry for the strangers if they'd died.

"Looks like they got here before we did." Jett managed to cough out as Alice tore open an old box. Old photos and books had been piled into the box earlier. It seemed as if they were the only objects in the house that weren't covered in blood.

"Well, is there any food?" Alice asked.

"We can't even find where the kitchen is, Alice." Slate said.

"It's right here." Jett stepped into the kitchen, where he was greeted by a zombie. It had been tied to the dining table. Its jaw hung limply and it was missing an eye. Alice peeked into the room but instantly shuffled away, holding her nose.

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