Dried blood and tears streaked the pale face of Jessica Andrews, but appearances had ceased to matter to the young girl. A dirty face and tangled hair were the least of her problems when the whole town was infested with zombies and God only knows what else. In some dark corner of her mind she wondered if she could have actually survived those atrocities, beaten the seemingly impossible odds and escaped the city with only the clothes on her back and large hand of her father pressed firmly to her back, guiding her to whatever safety they could find.
But, not anymore. Not when the only man she ever truly loved was dead, lifeless eyes staring into her own. Another wave of grief washed through her, engulfing her mind and threatening to destroy the wall she had been building brick by damn brick for the last twenty minutes.
The door is still open, she thought vaguely as a slight breeze blew in from the outside. Jessica's eyes roved absently over the mess that littered the living room floor of the two story town house. A broken lamp, over turned arm chair, broken photograph frames, and twisted throw rug.
The battle had been short, but destructive. How did someone kill something that is already dead? A bullet to the brain assuming the defender has a gun, or twist to the neck if that person can get close enough, but who would want to? At least he tried. At least he could fucking think clear enough to get me out of harms way while I stood there like an idiot with my head stuck up my ass…
Moans of the undead drift in along with the wind, their various tones echoing from as far as Raccoon City High School and as close as the small alleyway that sliced through the housing block. Just a few minutes ago the maker of such a bone chilling sound had come from her very own living room. Gray skin, milky white eyes, and bone chilling moan leaving cracked lips. I'll never forget it. My first up front and personal look at hell.
Father and daughter had been locked up inside their home for the past twenty one hours, going insane with the thought of dying and haunting calls of their executioners. The windows had been partially boarded up, they only had so much wood laying around, and the door had been locked with a heavy dead bolt. But, in their rush to secure the home, they had forgotten to patch up one of the side windows that lead into the kitchen.
My fault, Jessica realized with anguish. My fault… Should've looked more closely. Should've helped more. My fault. The sound of glass breaking and rush of cool air from only a few feet away would stay with her for the rest of her life. I just wanted something to eat. When had I last eaten? My stomach was rumbling so loud. I shouldn't have gone down. Should've sucked it up for another hour. My fault. Her father had rushed down the stairs, bat in hand and murder on his mind. He found her huddled on the floor shivering in fear and staring awestruck at the lumbering zombie making haste towards her, his baby girl.
"Get the fuck away from her!" Thomas Andrews had shouted, fury and fear mingling in his voice. Jessica snapped to attention and scrambled back from the monster. Glass was embedded in her palms, smearing blood over the high priced tile she had chosen. Her father swung hard for the zombie's head, but glanced off the shoulder. The thunderous sound of annoyance exploded from the creature. It advanced with sluggish steps, arms reaching out for the soft flesh and warm blood. So close…
Thomas took a jump back, knocked over a lamp and tripped over the rug. He went down with a 'thud' but kept hold of the bat. He scrambled to his feet just as the zombie fell to it's knees to come in for the kill.
"No!" Jessica plunged the steak knife she had found into the zombie's back just as it rose back up to it's full height. It turned and lurched at her, hands seeking and finding her shoulders. His head came down for her neck even as she screamed and pushed at the monster. Thomas wasted little time in grabbing the zombie's head and pulling him away from his daughter, the bat laying forgotten on the floor. All three bodies fell to the floor, Jessica landing a bit away from the undead man and her father. Something she would be forever regret.
Thomas' screams of pain and the sound of ripping flesh echoed throughout the house. Blood pooled beneath Jessica's feet.
"No. No, no, no, no…" It was a whisper, but shattered through the sound of her father gurgling his last breath or the zombie still munching on her father's neck. "No!" She reacted without thinking. She shoved the zombie off the lifeless body of her father and grabbed the bat he had dropped. Like a banshee she went to work bashing in the skull of the creature that had killed her father, that had torn apart her last shred of sanity.
Only when she no longer had the energy to stand did she drop the bat and drop to her knees beside Thomas. She gathered his body towards her and ran a shaking hand over his face. Strong jaw line, dull brown eyes, and wide mouth. A face that would forever be frozen in a state of shock and horror. Will he turn into one of… them? she wondered. Will he want to drink my blood and taste my flesh? She didn't know when he would turn, if he would, and didn't really care. So she stayed there for a while with his body cradled in her arms and the soft light of the fallen lamp to chase away the darkness.
It was with a grim determination that she gently released Thomas Andrews and laid him down with care. She traveled up a flight of stairs with a heavy heart and headed for her room. Leaving the door wide open she plopped down on her bed and laid down with a sigh. Snuggling under the covers she waited for death to come to her and only prayed that it would be quick.
Sometime later, on the first floor of the townhouse, a man rose from the hardwood floor and stood unsteadily on his feet. Milky white eyes accessed the chaos of his surroundings and turned his head towards the sky. He lumbered toward the stairs, stumbled up them one at a time, and wandered silently through the rooms. He came upon a small room with walls painted in soft pastels and books littered on the floor. His gaze turned towards the girl laying on a bed. The siren sound of pumping blood overrode any sense of humanity left.
He lunged at the sleeping girl with the ferociousness of a tiger and fed.