Day 12: Bad Dreams

Group 4: Matthew, Josh, Liz, Jeremiah, Edward, Nicole
Location: Barn/Farmhouse

Matthew approached the door with caution. In his earlier attempts to open it, the damn thing seemed stuck, but now it was practically begging for attention. Nicole stepped into the room behind him. With just a look exchanged, she communicated her plan. She’d open the door, but Matthew had better be ready to kill any non-living thing that moved.

Slowly, she turned the handle. To Matthew’s surprise, it was no longer locked and appeared to turn with ease. Nicole took a step to the side, silently counted down from 3 and swiftly jerked the door open. A man, dressed in only a bathrobe fell through, hitting the floor face first. “Close it! Close it!” he yelled, backing up into the room as he stared down the passageway.

Nicole peeked inside, getting a glimpse of three fast-moving zombies running towards her before slamming the door shut. It was then she noticed the lock was on the opposite side. “We’re gonna have to find a way to board this thing.” Matthew grunted in response. He had his handgun aimed at the newcomer who sat with his back to the wall and his eyes on Matthew’s barrel. Nicole sighed and called for Jeremiah.

With his help, she was able to sufficiently block the door from the undead. Humans, however, would be a different issue. “We’re gonna need to find some nails, a hammer and some wood if we don’t want people like him just walking in when they want.”

“There’s a toolkit, back hallway near the stairs,” Matthew said. “We can break some of the crates out in the barn for wood.”

Jeremiah moved to collect the toolbox but Nicole stayed put. “What are you gonna do with him?” she asked, noticing the standoff was not getting any better.

“Depends. Remove your robe,” Matthew instructed.

“Excuse me?” The man finally spoke, apparently shocked by Matthew’s request.

“You heard me. Disrobe or die. Your choice.”

“Look, I don’t know what you people are into here, but I’m not…” the man swallowed hard when Matthew drew back the slide and took one step forward. “Ok, ok!” he shouted with his hands out in a show of surrender. Slowly he began to undress. Nicole turned her back, not wanting to get a look at what the man was hiding beneath that robe.

“Turn around,” Matthew instructed, inspecting the man for any bites or scratches. “What’s your name?”

“Edward. Edward Thurmond Goodwin III.”

“Where did you come from, Edward?”

“Uptown.

“Oh. Crawled out from your silvery tower to rub elbows with us rabble?” Matthew asked with a bit of spite in his tone.

“It’s not like that.”

“Oh no? Let me guess. You have…well had some pretty, young mistress you kept out in the lower class neighborhoods. One that you visited whenever the little wifey was unwilling to part her legs for you. And when you were done using her or the inevitable boredom set in, you tossed her to the side, leaving her husband and eight year old son to pick up the pieces of their broken home. It’s always the same with you people. You think you can just buy whatever you want, hurt whoever you want and never face the consequences.”

“Matt?” Nicole slid her hand on his shoulder and he took in a deep, calming breath as he turned to look at her. She gave him a reassuring smile and he lowered his weapon.

“Put your fucking clothes on,” he growled at Edward before storming from the room.

Sweat broke out on Josh’s forehead. His pulse shifted gears. He could hear sirens wailing nearby. Frantic people rushed passed. Smoke and falling dust filled the air. The echo of his heartbeat muffled sounds with an underwater effect. Through the auditory blur, people screamed. Car horns honked with impatience. He needed to find Katrina.

An explosion ripped through the building. The ground beneath him became unstable. Debris rained down. More people ran for cover. He jumped, dodging a large piece of concrete that had dislodged from the building above him, bumping into something unforgiving.

The impact jolted Josh awake. Breathing hard, he took stock. Liz was snoring on a pile of hay behind him. To his right, Jeremiah and Nicole were huddled near a few stacked crates. But there, standing over him, breathing heavily and drenched in sweat, Matthew hovered; his gun aimed at his head.

Continue---->

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