he yelled at her, but more out of shock than anger. She simply stared out the window with saucer wide eyes.
"Amy?"
Crash!
The woman's face hit the window so hard her nose broke on impact and blood splattered the clear glass. Her eyes were glazed, wild with fear and her lips were moving frantically as she screamed, pounding her hands against the glass.
"HELP ME!"
Amy's terrified screams blended with the woman’s. Powerless to move, brother and sister watched in horror as a hazy shape materialized out of the mist over the woman’s shoulder. It lurched closer to the window and morphed into a man in a business suit. Or rather, it must have been at one point, but the man's face was no longer normal looking. It was ripped to shreds like raw meat. Pieces of flesh flapped like waggling fingers as he moved steadily toward the woman. And his mouth! His mouth was this yawning void from which protruded a gray, worm-like creature. It was like something straight out of some horror movie. Sam couldn’t help the scream that tore at his own throat as the creature clamped down on the woman’s neck and ripped it apart like it was tissue paper. Blood arched in the air, as if in slow motion and then rained down on the glass, obscuring both the woman and the creature from their sight.
Sam stumbled backward and hit the floor elbows first, pain shooting up his arms. The pain seemed to awaken him from his stupor.
"AMY, BOLT THE DOOR! BOLT THE DAMN DOOR!" he screamed from the floor and Amy obeyed without hesitation, moving quicker than he had ever seen her move.
Just as the bolt snapped down on the lock, the door buckled as something outside rammed it hard. Amy screamed as she backed away. Scrambling to Sam, he pulled her into his arms and they huddled together on the living room floor. Amy curled into a fetal position and her hands covered her ears as she tried to block the horrible sounds coming from outside.
It felt like hours, but finally the screams died out and an eerie silence fell over the normally bustling street. Sam tore his eyes away from the blood-splattered window and looked down into Amy's pale face. She too had gone eerily silent… her eyes vacant and empty. Sam wondered if she had maybe gone into shock.
"Ames?" he questioned apprehensively. No response.
"Amy," he yelled louder, giving her a little shake. Her eyes blinked furiously as if suddenly realizing Sam was there.
"Daddy?" is all she said, but Sam understood.
"I'm sure he's okay, Ames. He was working in his office, so he was inside. Whatever happened to those people, it happened outside. We were inside and we were okay. Dad will be too. I'm sure he’ll be home soon."
***
The water shut off two weeks later and the power shortly after that, but still no sign of the senior Samuel. Sam and Amy had taken to sleeping in their father's hobby room in the attic since the power went out. Even though Sam had bolted every door and drawn every curtain tight to block out the sight of the roaming “zombies” as Amy had started calling them, the house just didn't feel safe anymore. A couple times, they had been awakened by the sounds of someone or something trying to force open the door. Other survivors, who had been locked safely inside for weeks had been forced to take to the streets to try to find supplies. A shortage of food and water had them making the choice between starvation or becoming zombie fodder. Sam knew it would be only a matter of time before someone would find them up here in the attic and take their supplies. Maybe even worse. Only just two nights ago, they’d heard the unmistakable sound of breaking glass. The outside had finally gotten in. And as young as he was, he knew the odds. It was survival of the fittest now. Everyone for themselves. This morning's rude awakening had been a prime example of that.
Amy shivered in his arms and he hugged her tighter. She still seemed unable to stop her crying, and Sam knew he had to do something to distract her before she totally lost it.
"Why don't you try Dad's radio again, Ames," he suggested quietly. He felt her nodding against his chest.
Their father had been an amateur ham radio operator in his spare time. Both Sam and Amy had spent countless hours playing in the attic and listening to their father talk to people from all over the world. Sam had forgotten about the radio, but after moving into the attic the sight of it had raised their hopes, if only for a brief moment. So far they had been met with nothing but silence. They had listened for hours at first, but the battery was running low and Sam only let Amy turn it on for a few minutes at a time now. But even those few moments of nothingness kept her spark of hope alive, so he never said anything. Once the power died completely however, he was scared of how it would affect his sister's well-being.
She pulled away from him, still sniffling and flicked the power switch. The radio squawked to life with static. Amy focused her attention on the rotating knob, slowly going through the frequencies just like Sam had taught her. Glad her attention was not on him at the moment, he covered his face with his hands and breathed deeply into them as he tried to get himself under control.
As careful as they had been, someone now knew they were here. Which also meant their home wasn't safe for them anymore. But what could they do? Where could they go? For about the millionth time Sam found himself wondering why the hell their father wasn’t here to take care of them. Why hadn’t he found his way back already? He could feel that familiar pressure building in his chest as the sense of helplessness threatened to overwhelm him, once again. He was only fourteen, for crying out loud. He didn't know what to do.
"Sammy!" Amy cried urgently and Sam's eyes popped open in fear.
"What? What's wrong?"
She pointed to the radio with a trembling hand.
"I think I heard someone. Listen."
She turned the knob slowly and a garbled voice crackled to life.
Sam nearly bowled her over as he fell on his knees in front of the radio. He turned up the volume and tried to tune in the frequency better.
"…for anyone out there. My name is Roy Harding. We’ve set up base in the Grand Hotel on Leclaire Boulevard. We offer safety for any survivors out there. Again, the Grand Hotel on Leclaire Boulevard. This message is for anyone left alive out there. The Grand is a safe haven."
Sam and Amy stared at each other in stupefied amazement. Then Amy screeched shrilly, "Say something, Sammy."
"Right." Sam fumbled with the mic, nearly dropping it in his excitement.
"Hello," he yelled. "Can you hear me?"
His plea was met with dead air. Impatiently, he clicked the button on the side of the mic. Was he doing it right? Why hadn't he paid more attention when his father insisted on teaching him this stuff?
"Hello. Can you hear me?"
He waited, holding his breath. Then, like a voice from the heavens, "Yes, I hear you. Who is this?"
Sam's eyes closed tight as he fought against the tears of relief that threatened to spill out. They were not alone. Shakily he responded.
"Sam McKinley. We're stuck in our house... me and my sister. We don't know what to do. Please help us!"
"How old are you, Sam?" The voice was kind and filled with compassion. It nearly did him in. He had difficulty swallowing the lump in his throat.
"Fourteen. My sister is twelve. Our dad never came home and…" he trailed off, not knowing what else to say. Fortunately, the voice did not care.
"What's your address, Sam? We will come—"
The voice broke off abruptly as the power button on the radio winked out. Sam stared at the dead radio in disbelief.
"Hello?" he yelled into the mic, r
efusing to believe what just happened. "Hello? Are you still there?"
His pleas were in vain. There was no answer.
"No!" he screamed in frustration, banging the now useless mic on top of the radio. Just as quickly as the anger came though, it was gone again and he dropped the mic in defeat, breathing heavily from his exertion and disappointment.
Silence dragged on for a few minutes before Amy quietly asked, "What are we going to do, Sammy? He sounded real nice and you never got a chance to tell him where we are. He can't come get us. What are we going to do?"
Taking a deep breath, Sam made a decision. He raised his determined gray eyes to his sister.
"We're going to go to him."
***
It didn't take them long to gather their few supplies and cram them into their old school backpacks they had found in the trunk. Now that the decision had been made, Sam was eager to get on the road. He knew the general direction they should be traveling. The Grand Hotel was not that far, maybe a day’s worth of walking. All they had to do was to stay out of sight from the freaks and the crazies. Easy, right?
With a broken blue crayon he’d found on the floor, he scrawled a message on the attic wall for their father. When their father finally did make it home, he would