Zombies Vs Aliens: Respawn

Chapter 3.3

Something about the picture wasn't right. There were no boards on the windows for one thing; you'd think with zombies roaming everywhere, sealing up the house would be the first logical step. The front door was wide open, not smashed, just open. I stood in the doorway, the scene surreal. The living room was intact, knick knacks neatly arranged on the mantle. The television in the corner was smashed, so was the mirror on the wall, glass shards littering the floor. The floor was coated with mud, smeared footprints tracking a path throughout the house, fingerprints on the walls, on furniture. I followed the mud, passing a bathroom with another smashed mirror. There were two bedrooms at the end of a short hallway, one closed, one open. The mud led into the open one, but I found myself before the closed one, turning the knob.

It was dark in the master bedroom, light struggling to get through the heavy curtain over the windows, but there was enough to see the two figures lying on the bed. The smell of decay lingered, but the room was stale, rot mixed with mold. No one here was among the living, not for a long time. Closing the door, I entered the opposite room. Ah, here there be monsters.

The bed frame was smashed, shoved into a corner. The mattress had been torn apart, its innards part of the pile of shredded sheets and debris in the center of the room. It was a nest, complete with a little muddy doll and frayed blanket. The picture was confusing. This must be the home of the mystery girl, but what was the deal with the nest? And the doll, she still slept with a doll? Was she autistic or something? I stepped back into the hall, something crinkling under my foot. Looking down, the hallway was littered with smashed picture frames, family pictures caked in filth. I plucked the one from beneath my warped shoe, wiping away the dirt, my gloved fingers slowly unveiling the faces.

I stared at the picture for a while, the cheery smiles growing murkier in the dimming daylight. Grabbing the doll, I headed back outside. Fred sat cross legged in front of the hay stack, poking it with a stick.

"Stop that!" I snapped, smacking him upside the head. I shoved the photo at him. "How old does she look here to you?" It was a little girl and her parents in gaudy Christmas sweaters posed beside an immensely over tinseled pine tree.

    Fred snorted. "No way, that can't be our growlie little friend, this kid looks like she's maybe three tops." His eyes widened, dropping the stick to grip the photo with both hands. He smoothed off more dirt, his face somber. "It's time stamped December 25, 2014. That's just a few months before all the magazines cut off." 

"She still sleeps with her doll," I said softly, showing him the tattered treasure. This situation made me damn uncomfortable. I had come to the conclusion I spent a good number years as a mindless corpse, but waking up to this nightmare world was one thing. I could not imagine living through all of this. I crouched in front of the haystack, holding out my peace offering.

"You want to come out of there? I promise we won't hurt you."

"What'd you promise that for? We don't know if we still have the urge to eat people!" Fred hissed, scuttling backwards. I glared at him.

"You've been out here with her for nearly an hour. Feeling peckish?"

He scrunched up his face, patting his stomach. "Actually, no," He grinned. It was dusk, so the white teeth and black gums gave him a skull like appearance.

"Whatever you do, don't smile if we get her out of there."

Fred's face fell, covering his mouth with one hand. "I keep forgetting how ghastly it is," he muttered through his fingers.

I was so distracted by Fred I didn't realize what was happening until he gasped. I turned just in time to feel the doll ripped from my hand as a scrawny leg kicked up, planting a foot on my chest to send me skidding back on my butt a few yards.