Little Red pushed open the door of her grandmother's cottage, knowing what she'd find long before she saw it. There was blood on the doorstep. The Wolf had left his car hidden in a stand of trees, but the atom-scorched trunks did little to disguise the bright warpaint and burnished chrome.
"Eyes bigger than your stomach, eh?"
She primed her weapon.
The creature on the bed bared its teeth.
***
"Wouldn't recommend going that way," the Wolf said, clearing flesh from his car's grill with the end of a tyre iron. "Big horde of ghouls. Barely got through it myself."
"Oh dear!" Little Red stepped off her bike. "But I simply must get these supplies to my grandmama!"
"No fear!" The Wolf gave her a big, toothy grin. "Where does she live? Perhaps I can suggest a safer route..."
***
"Now remember what I told you," said Red's mother, for the fiftieth time.
"Yes, yes, I know. Stick to the path, don't talk to anyone, and if I run into any ghouls—"
"Don't cave their heads in."
Red stepped out of the bunker and onto her bike.
"And make sure that your cattle prod's got a good charge: you know how grandma gets when she hasn't been fed!"