Slowly we moved forward on quiet feet, weapons in hand. The dead were mostly at the end of the street, we had our weapons ready in case we were to be attacked. All was quiet except for the sound of the dragging footsteps of the dead and their moans of hunger and pain. My youngest brother clung to my mother; my sister followed them behind closely ready to strike down anything that came their way. My father led us toward a house that seemed in better condition than the rest in this area, tonight we would take shelter there.
As the eldest son I protected the back of the family, while my two younger brothers carried our supplies. It seemed almost too long before we reached the house, and when we did my father and I swept the whole of it to make sure it was safe enough. The rest of the family stood by the entrance waiting for the okay. When we decided it was all clear my brothers blocked the front door with the living room couch and the television stand. We then taped down the curtains. Though taping down the curtains didn’t really secure the windows doing so gave us a sense of security since we didn’t have plywood, and it would make sense to cover the windows with furniture since we would be staying only for the night.
We were all tired since we had been traveling for days with little rest. After we had all eaten I took first watch while the rest of my family slept in the living room. I walked quietly around the house in part to stay awake and then to make sure nothing had gotten into the house. But soon that was not enough to keep me awake, and it made me more tired than restless. I sat on the stairs where I was able to hear everything in the house. My eyes began to droop down with sleep and I stood with my eyes drooping like that for an hour or two before they finally drifted shut. I don’t know how long I stood in that sleeping state, but when I did finally wake up I awoke to a crossbow pointed at my head.
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I watched from the attic window as a few of the dead passed by, and I knew that soon I would be joining them. I can’t even remember the last real thing I had to eat, and I had been surviving on nothing but water and stale crackers I found in the back of the kitchen cabinet. I finished those crackers a few days ago, and though I had some water I knew it wouldn’t help me stay alive for very long. I supposed I should have tried to leave and find some food, shelter, or maybe even people if there were still any, but I couldn’t. The fear I have is so strong that I would rather die here in the attic than get bitten by one of those zombies out there, and a small part of me hoped that a family member or two would be out there somewhere on their way to find me and save me.
Still I sat by this attic window too tired to get up from this spot or move away, my body was weak from the lack of food for the past few weeks. Just as my eyes started to close shut I saw a group moving toward my house. I didn’t know if they were alive or dead, or maybe even infected and close to changing into zombies because they looked disheveled and were shuffling a bit like the zombies. I soon lost track of them as they make their way to my front door.
Slowly I rose from the spot where I sat and lowered my body to the floor trying to hear through the boards. I strained my ears to hear if they were there and all I heard was them getting through the door effortlessly. Other than that I could hear no more because they were somewhere on the first floor while I was in the attic above the second floor. I was going to rise from this position until I heard two pairs of footsteps on the second floor. These footsteps didn’t sound like the shuffling of the dead but I could not be sure. I decided to wait until the time was right to go down and check out the situation.
I crawled over to the attic entrance as the footsteps retreated to the first floor. I waited there for about half an hour before I moved to go down to the second floor, but just as I was opening the hatch one pair of footsteps came up from the stairs again. Quickly and quietly I closed the hatch and listened for another half hour as this one pair walked around the second floor again and again. Finally those steps went down the stairs again, I just didn’t know how far. This time I waited two hours before I slipped down into the second floor. I held my small crossbow in one hand and some stakes in the pockets of my cargo jeans. I had bought the crossbow a few years back when I was into the vampire craze and before the world went to shit. How much I would rather be that girl again, when the most I had to worry about was the lack of my social life.
I walked around the second floor, through my bedroom and my parents bedroom, and then down the hallway to the staircase. There I found a figure at the bottom of the steps, not moving except for the rise and fall of its chest. Quietly I tip-toed down the steps avoiding all the creaky spots, and as I got closer I discovered it was a boy not much older than myself. He was sleeping, his face calm and devoid of the stress of waking life. I knew then that at least he was another living person, but he could still be infected. Maybe he would wake up a zombie, the thought made my heart lower into my stomach because he was the only other living person I had seen in I don’t know how long.
I watched him for a minute more, remembering his blue-black hair, his pale skin, and his eyelashes that were a little long for a guy. His mouth hung open but no sound came out. With a steady hand I raised the crossbow, and just as I pointed it at his head his eyes opened.