Chapter 2
Early morning light silhouetted the two figures. One, a woman, was taller and walked with a longer, more confident gait, and tightly grasped a wireless microphone in her right hand. Every now and then, a zombie ambling nearby would make a lunge at her or her comrade and she would use the microphone to smash in its skull or whack it to the ground, every time she was able to incapacitate them with a single blow. She did all this while keeping a straight, nonchalant face, and without getting any blood on her impeccable navy suit.
The man beside her was the opposite in demeanor. Short and hunched over, he scurried alongside the woman, an expression of open terror on his face. He clutched a medium sized video camera in his arms, and wore an old pair of jeans with many holes, a plain gray t-shirt, and a tattered brown jacket. He would give a small yelp every time a new zombie would make a move for them, but it was always covered by a sharp thwack as the foe fell to the ground.
The woman became more and more animated in her strikes as the road wound up a hill. As they neared the top, the large house at the end of the road came into view. Surrounded by a tall concrete wall, and gated by a steel door, the three story house was imposing and intimidating. She felt a sense of growing excitement as they walked up to the gate.
She turned to the man beside her and pointed at the wall.
"Up."
"B-but-"
"Do it. Now."
"I could fall-"
"So?"
He sighed and put the camera in his companion's outstretched arms, then began to climb carefully up the wall. He found he was just able to grip in between the concrete bricks, and within a minute or so he was sitting on top of the wall. Below however, was yet another obstacle.
"Um, what am I supposed to do about the Dobermans?"
"Oh, I forgot to mention them. You'll just have to run."
He knew there was no point in waiting; it would probably just make her mad. So he closed his eyes and inched over the side, till he was hanging just out of the dogs' reach, then let himself drop. The rest was more of a blur, as he raced to the front porch and found himself climbing up the wall to get on top of the awning. Once he was on top, he saw his pants were even more torn then before at the cuffs, and his sneakers needed yet another patching up. He sighed and stood up to climb into the window beside him.
He jumped down onto the thick white carpet beneath him and was all too aware of the trail of stains his shoes made behind him as he quickly surveyed the room he had entered. It was simply furnished with only a few chairs, a small sofa and a coffee table, and a short book shelf. At a glance, he saw the shelf was only half full with a series of thick encyclopedias.
The man stepped quickly and with purpose out of the room and turned right down a long, wide, hallway to what appeared to be a balcony that overlooked a large entry room. He went down the simple staircase toward the large front doors, but paused just as he was about to unbolt them. He turned and looked around him, and noticed a swing door on the other side of the atrium. He jogged to it and found, as he had hoped, a kitchen on the other side.
After a quick survey of the expansive devices and appliances, he spotted a fridge and upon inspection of its freezer, he found some small slabs of red meat. Taking the first two he touched, he rushed back to the front door and quickly unbolted and opened it. The dogs were both already poised to pounce, lips reared back in a horrific snarl but the man had little time to take that in before he threw both steaks as far as he could away from the gate. As both dogs ran toward the slabs of meat the man raced to the gate and quickly unbolted it and let his companion in.
Before shutting the gates, he couldn't help but notice the large pile of bodies strewn about the lawn motionless and silent. Shuddering, he swept up the camera from the arms that had ended their lives and started to film as the two walked into to large estate before them.
Locking the door behind them, the two ascended the flight of stairs and went back down the hallway, the man shooting their simple surroundings as they passed; the lack of art on the walls and creativity in décor was all too noticeable. At the end opposite the overlook, they met a spiral staircase that led to the next floor and they continued up. At the top they were met with a row of doors, and the man followed the woman down to the last on the left. The woman gave her brunette coiffed hair a quick flip it didn't need and straightened her already straight suit before silently turning the gleaming knob to the bedroom beyond. Quietly, the pair took their positions at the foot of the bed before them, the man standing a few feet back, so as to get the shot of the woman standing and the other sleeping woman.
His comrade counted down the seconds on her fingers behind her back as she continued to look at Elliot Greenwall, and the calm, relaxed expression on her face that the woman knew, even hoped, would never be seen again. As Elliot Greenwall stirred and opened her eyes, the man and woman said together,
"Day One."