by Jimmy Bird
His adrenaline had kicked in and before the blink of an eye he had successfully crossed ten good size backyards. After a couple of more yards he began to breath heavy. It wasn’t until he got to the fifteenth yard that he showed his first sign of fatigue. By the time he made it to the twentieth yard he could barely stand. He was exhausted, his adrenaline was gone.
Believe it or not he was spent. He lost count of the yards he went through and the fences he climbed. What made it that much harder was that more then half of the fences were the stockade style and ranged anywhere from six feet to eight feet in height. Not all of them were easy to climb, especially since he kept cutting his hands every time he climbed a stockade fence. If you didn't know him, Brian was determined to get home.
He took a moment to catch his breath and noticed for the first time that his legs were wobbly. His arms felt like rubber from all that climbing. Not to bad though considering that he had made it within about a half mile radius of his house. All he had was just a few more backyards and fences to go.
He bent over and placed his hands on his knees. With the sun and heat beating down on him, he needed a break. He was breathing so heavy that it felt like he was going to pass out. He knew that he wouldn't be able to help his family in his current condition. So he decided to sit down and catch his breath.
He looked around for a nice spot to sit and noticed a nice cushioned patio set under a canopy style umbrella over by a tree. He nervously glanced around to see if it was safe. When he felt that there was no immediate danger, he slowly walked over to one of the cushioned chairs and sat down.
He woke up to the sound of gunfire. He jumped up and immediately looked around, disorientated from the chair. Brian stood there trying to get his bearings. He had actually forgotten where he was until another shot rang out. The sound snapped him out of his grogginess. Looking around, he quickly determined that the shot came from the direction of his house.
He had forgotten all about the zombies as he rushed toward the gate. His mind was so focused on his family that he almost forgot to stop and open it. He kicked open the gate and ran towards his home. He didn’t even bother to look around to see if it was safe or not.
He passed a few zombies on his way home, but was able to easily avoid them by making sure that a few cars were in between them. Brian took full advantage of his environment by going around different stuff, like overturned cars. His whole goal was to keep from having to stop.
He had made it all the way to the next door neighbor’s yard before stopping. He didn't even make it to his own yard before he realized that something wasn’t right. There were bodies (ten all together) all over his front yard with bullet holes in their foreheads and his front door was wide open. He looked around for the slightest hint of danger as he slowly walked through the neighbor's yard on his way towards his front door.
The only thing that he noticed was that the few zombies that he had passed on his way to his house were still following him. The good thing was that they weren't moving quickly. At the rate they were moving, Brian figured that he had a little extra time to look for his family.
Once he reached the front door he noticed that the deadbolt lock that sat inside the door-frame had been damaged. It looked like the door had been forced in. The white door even had a visible large size boot print on it. He knew right away that no zombie could have kicked in the door.
He had a bad feeling that caused his heart to start pounding quickly. He couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching him. His nerves were on edge causing him to look around to make sure that nobody had snuck up behind him. When he didn't see anyone outside and was sure that it was still safe to proceed, he turned back around. He nervously peeped around the broken door-frame to look inside his house to see if anyone was in there.
He didn’t see anyone, but could hear a couple of manly voices somewhere towards the back of the house. He couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but knew that he didn’t recognize them. He didn’t hear any other voices.
He silently told his family to remain safe as he stepped through the front doorway into his living room. As soon as he was inside the house, he looked around for something that he could use as a weapon. Unfortunately, he didn’t find anything that would help him. He needed a weapon that could be used quietly without attracting unwanted attention. All he saw was a couple of lamps and end tables. Everything else was just to heavy to try to use.
The perfect weapon popped into his head. He remembered that they had just purchased a new knife set that included a ten inch butcher knife. It was one of those expensive sets that was never supposed to dull. He turned toward the kitchen and crept as quietly as he could.
He only got two steps before he had the feeling that someone was watching him again. He nervously glanced around, but he still didn't see anyone. He tried to push the thought out of his mind so he could focus on the task at hand.
He walked into the kitchen and immediately went over to the counter with the knife storage block. His heart dropped when he noticed that all of the knives were missing, the block was still there, but the knives were not. Brian became frantic trying to figure out what could have happened to them. He quickly searched every drawer, but still couldn't find them. He knew that they were there when he left for work that morning.
All that was left on the counter was a small paring knife. It was the type of knife where you would have to practically hug the person in order to use it. He knew he couldn't afford to get that close to a zombie to use it, but decided to grab the knife just in case.
He quietly went through the cabinets looking for something to use when he remembered that they had kept their old knife set, just in case they didn’t like their new one. The only issue he had with the old set was that they had placed them on a hard to reach shelf in the garage. They wanted to make sure that their kids couldn't get to them. On the other hand, he knew that he could easily get to the knives if he had something to stand on. The only thing he didn't know was how much noise he would create when he tried. Lucky for him, their three step ladder was already stored in the garage so he didn’t have to find something to stand on.
He climbed the ladder and started to stretch for the box of knives when he heard something that sounded like a door being kicked in. He paused and listened. The noise sounded like it came from the back of the house immediately followed by two gun shots.
He decided that the time for being stealthy was over as he reached for the box. Once he had the box in his hands he jumped down off the top step and landed in a full run. He didn’t bother to stop and open the box as he frantically ran towards the back of the house.
He opened the lid just as he entered the hallway and grabbed the familiar butcher knife that he had used for the past decade. He dropped the box just as he reached the bedroom door and stopped. He noticed that his door was broken around the knob. He knew that this was where the noises definitely came from.
He wasn't entirely sure why he had stopped running, but knew that his gut feeling told him to be cautious. He walked up to the broken door and looked in. What he saw caused him to see red his rage.
Before his rage took over, he noticed two men (one was white and the other black) and a young black girl (she looked to be about 10 years old) rummaging through his drawers and closet. Behind them on the floor lying motionless was his wife and little girl. He could see a dark red puddle under each of their heads. On the wall just past them looked like splattered blood and brain matter. I'm not sure exactly what he saw that caused his bloodlust, but that was when he lost it.
With the butcher knife in his hand, he screamed like a mad man and charged toward the closest man. The white guy turned in surprise just as Brian swung the knife sideways as hard as he could. The knife struck the side of the guy’s neck. I'm not going to say that the ten inch blade went directly through the guy's neck, but it was pretty close. The blade tip was sticking out of the other side.
With a look of surprise, the white guy g
urgled as Brian pulled out the knife. Without waiting to see what was happening to the white guy, Brian had already lunged toward the black guy. Behind him blood had already started spraying out of the white guy’s neck, from both neck wounds as he fell face first toward the already stained carpet.
The white guy hadn’t even hit the carpet yet by the time Brian had closed the gap between him and the second guy. He was already swinging the knife as hard as he could at a downward angle before he even reached the guy. Believe it or not, he was moving so fast that he had actually caught the second guy completely by surprise.
You would have thought that the second guy would have been able to anticipate Brain's attack, but that wasn't the case. Brian had drove the knife into the top of the guy's head before the guy could even try to defend himself. I guess it didn't matter if the guy had tried to anticipate Brian or not. Brian wouldn't even have given the guy a chance to do anything. It was over just as quickly as it began when the guy's eyes had rolled into the back of his head as he collapsed on the floor. The knife was still sticking out of his head.
Brian was calm as he leaned over and yanked the knife out of the guy's head. With the knife in hand, he slowly turned to face the screaming child. Child? He shook his head as if hearing something for the first time. He started to come to his senses when he realized that it was the first time that he had heard her scream. He began to wonder if it was because of fear. It didn’t even dawn on him that she could have been screaming the whole time. Was he that far gone that he had just tuned her and everything else out?
He stood there and watched her in awe as if she was a performing animal who had just done an awesome trick. He couldn't explain what stopped him from going after the child. Maybe it was because she reminded him of his own little girl or maybe it was the fact that she was just a child in the whole situation.
He lowered the knife and began talking to her in a calm and soothing voice, just like he would his own child. As a matter of fact, watching her freak out reminded him of his daughter. Unfortunately, he wasn't in the mood to hear it and pleaded for her to stop screaming. He even tried to make a little deal with her. He promised not to hurt her if she just quit screaming.
When she had finally calmed down, he turned his back on her and slowly walked over to his wife and daughter. He knelt down between them and lowered his head. He look from his wife to his daughter. He closed his eyes as tears began to flow down the sides of his cheeks.
Without opening his eyes or even turning his head, he asked the little girl why they had killed his family. The girl didn't respond. Not known for his patience, Brian asked again. He got the same result as before, nothing.
Brian opened his eyes and turned his head toward the girl. With a warning type of look in his eyes, he repeated the question again. The girl's only response was giving him one of those “are you stupid” looks. She must have seen the dangerous look in his eyes because she lowered her's in order to avoid eye contact. Her attitude changed a little as she told him that they were already zombies when they arrived.
Brian’s anger began to resurface as he told her that she was wrong, that it was not possible. He accused them of breaking and entering and of course burglary. He stated the fact that they were the ones that had kicked in his front door.
Frightened, she told him that her dad and his friend only kicked in the front door because the house looked abandoned. She claimed that they were just looking for weapons and supplies.
Speaking through clinched teeth, Brian asked her what did that have to do with his family. She pleaded her case by explaining that they had heard a noise in the bedroom and thought that someone was in trouble. Thinking that someone was trouble, her dad had kicked in the bedroom door. She claimed that was when they found the two zombies.
No! That's not how it happened. Denial hit him hard as he called the little girl a liar. With hatred in his eyes he told her that the evidence spoke for itself. He had caught them rummaging through his things.
The little girl was pretty smart and realized that Brian was close to loosing his cool. She once again pleaded her case with him, by telling Brian that they only came in the house because they thought it was abandoned. The front door was wide open so they came in looking for weapons and supplies.
Feeling defeated, his tone actually lightened up a little as he sadly laughed. He told her that the joke was on them because he didn’t have any weapons. He raised his hand and pointed towards the east side of the house. He told her that they were at the wrong house because his young neighbor next door had lots of weapons. He was a collector of exotic and rare weapons.
Brian looked down at his family once again. His tone turned serious once again as he asked her about his son. The only response he received for his question was silence.
He looked up at the little girl, who had a confused look on her face. Seeing her expression he once again asked her, where his son was. She informed him that there was no one else in the room when they arrived. Brian must of had a disbelieving and hateful look in his eyes because she quickly looked away, clearly uncomfortable.
He ignored her as he turned back towards his family. With his anger beginning to rise again, he thought it would be best if he focused his energy on his family. He looked down at his wife, at her beautiful face. He wanted to take in ever detail he could. His eyes went from her face towards her stomach and saw an oval mark. It was about an inch long on her shirt surrounded by other small holes located around her bloody stomach area. It was something that he hadn't notice before.
He slowly pulled up her shirt exposing her stomach and a small bite mark in the shape of a mouth. It looked to be about the size of a child's mouth. The thought of a child leaving the mark caused Brian to look over at his daughter.
He began looking his daughter over. He started with her beautiful face and then her body. He didn't notice any wrong with her until he found a large bite mark on the back of her neck. It was hidden under her long dark hair. He rolled her small frame body over to inspect the wound and found patches of hair missing. It looked like someone had ripped some of it out. With a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, he rolled her back over and began looking in her mouth. Actually, both of their mouths. He noticed that his daughter had an excessive amount of blood and what looked like pieces of fresh flesh caught in her teeth. His wife’s mouth however looked relatively clean.
Without consciously thinking about it, his mind started to work on the pieces of the mysterious puzzle before him. It wasn't long before he came up with a reasonable theory. Not known for his sense of humor, Brian tried to lighten his own mood by stating that it made him feel like he was the old legendary detective Sherlock Holmes.
His theory suggested that they were making their way outside, but before they could escape, they were attacked. His daughter must have been grabbed by the back of her hair. Before she could get free, the zombie must have taken a bite out of the back of her neck. Her mom then must have somehow saved their daughter from the zombie. After escaping the zombie's clutches, they ran toward the safety of the house. They had managed to get inside the house, but failed to close the main door. They must have ran to the bedroom and locked the door. The idea was to probably wait there until he could get come and get them. With his daughter bitten, his wife must have tried to comfort her by cradling her head to her chest/stomach area. His daughter must have then changed and attacked her mom. That would explain everything. Well, everything except for his son.
He turned his attention back towards the girl, but she was gone. She must have quietly slipped away while he was lost in his own thoughts. That was when he noticed something else that he didn’t notice before. His bedroom window was up, well not entirely up. It looked like the window was up about few inches.
Forgetting about the girl, he slowly stood and made his way over to the window. After a few seconds of inspecting the window, he realized that the first window wasn't the only one opened. The second window was all the way up and the screen was o
utside on the ground.
You see Brian had weather windows installed throughout his house a few years earlier, which meant that they were double layered with screens. He had been so focused on the window that he completely forgot about everything that had happened. His mind was working overtime. He theorized that his son must have crawled out through the window to escape his mother and sister.
The more he thought about it, the more he realized that something about that theory just didn’t add up though. His son was only five years old and wasn't tall enough to reach the window, much less know how to lift both windows and push the screen out. Not to mention, how he would have brought the interior window back down. He kept looking at the window, hoping to find any sign that his theory was correct and that his son was still alive. Before long, he found it.
He opened the window all the way up and stuck his head halfway out when he saw a piece of torn clothing that gave him hope. It was a simple sign, but more then enough to convince Brian that his son had escaped his mother and sister's fate. That hope manifested from a piece of cloth about the size of a half dollar that was stuck in the outside corner of the window frame. He nervously reached out to grab the torn clothing and knew right away that it was a piece from his son’s shirt. To be more accurate, it was from his son's favorite shirt. He must have been in a hurry and got it caught on the frame when had crawled out of the window.
With a renewed hope Brian stuck his head out of the window all the way, hoping to see his son standing there waiting for him. Unfortunately, he didn’t see anything. That didn’t mean much because he knew that his son would have found a safe place to hide until his dad could come and get him. The only problem now was to find that hiding place.
As he pulled his head back inside the house, he noticed blood smudges in the shape of adult fingers on the outside of the window frame. He automatically knew, without a reason of doubt, how his son was able to escape to safety from the window. Before his mother turned, she must have sensed that she was dying and wanted their son to live. That also meant that she wanted Brian to find and protect their son.