Dim light showed from the bottom of the stairs as Lizzie descended. She thought it was probably from the street lamp outside. When she reached the last step, she turned to Miranda. "Miranda, close your eyes," she said.
"Why?"
"Because there are things you don't want to see down here," Lizzie replied. "Here, I'll take your hand, but whatever you do, don't open your eyes." Lizzie reached out and took Miranda's hand in hers. "Are you ready?"
"Yes."
Lizzie guided Miranda down the last couple of stairs and onto the blood soaked carpet in the living room. Lizzie's foot bumped into something as she turned to direct Miranda around the debris strewn about the floor. She looked down and grimaced at Mrs. Sanchez's head which was inches away from her feet. Lizzies sneakers made a squishing sound as she sank into the damp carpet.
"What was that?" Miranda asked, her voice too loud in the quiet living room.
"Nothing, keep moving," Lizzie hissed her voice getting quieter. "And keep quiet."
"Lizzie, I'm scared," Miranda whispered.
"We're almost there," Lizzie replied. Lizzie looked down at the mangled corpse of Miranda's mother. Part of her wanted to flinch and run screaming from the room, but her resolve held and she pulled Miranda's hand harder as she hurried past.
They stepped out into the fresh air. "You can open your eyes," Lizzie said.
Miranda opened her eyes. "Where are my parents?" she asked.
"In there," Lizzie said. Her voice carried an ominous tone.
Miranda looked through the darkness at Lizzie. Her eyes began to well up with tears. "Are they dead?" she asked.
"Yes." A single, short curt answer.
"But, Lizzie..." Miranda said.
"No, Miranda, listen. There is nothing you can do for them. I know. We have to keep moving." Lizzie's voice was dangerous now.
Miranda followed meekly, she was intimidated by Lizzie's tone. She could tell something was different, but she couldn't quite identify it.
Lizzie led the way through the darkened streets without error. It was like a homing sense pulling her back home. She knew she had to get to Gordo, even if it was to confirm what she hoped wasn't true.
She stopped across the street from the two darkened houses. Hers was shone with lights on the second floor and coming from the kitchen. Right beside it was Gordo's house, no lights came from the windows.
Lizzie shivered, not because the cool air and thin shirt she wore. If Gordo was in there, what condition was he in? Would she be able to deal with him if he was one of those things? This line of thought brought up a fountain of emotions she barely knew she was holding back. Tears trickled down her blood-caked face. They were silent, strong tears though. If she saw Gordo alive again, they had a lot to talk about.
"Miranda, follow me, but if we run into anyone who looks like they are sick, get away. There are a lot of very sick people out today and they will try to hurt us both." Lizzie turned back to look at Miranda.
The same hard look that Lizzie felt had crept into Miranda's eyes. Miranda's eyes shifted from their distant look back to Lizzie. "I'll be okay Lizzie, let's get Gordo."
Lizzie grabbed a fallen tree branch from the ground. She broke it off about halfway leaving a piece about twice as long as her arm and as round as a baseball bat. The makeshift weapon felt light in her hand. They were halfway across the street when it started to lightly rain.
She slid into the doorway of Gordo's house with Miranda two steps behind her. Shadows from the light outside created eerie shadows in the spacious living room. Lizzie didn't see anything that looked like signs of struggle anywhere in the room. She didn't want to go around behind the stairs to the dining room or the kitchen to check those out unless she had too. She looked up the stairs and began creeping slowly up them.
"Lizzie!" Miranda said in a whisper.
Lizzie jumped a little and looked back. "What?" she whispered back.
"I'll stay here, if anyone comes, I'll let you know." Miranda's resolve was still in place. The core of strength that Lizzie had relied on before was back. Miranda was her other best friend, and she knew she could trust her.
"Okay," Lizzie turned back and continued her ascent of the stairs. Once at the top, she looked up and down the corridor. Almost the same layout as her house, Gordo's room was directly in front of her and his parents were to the left. All the doors were closed. Lizzie almost started crying again when she saw dark smears about eye level on the wall next to the doors of both rooms.
Closing her eyes, Lizzie breathed in deeply. She tried to prepare herself for whatever was up there. She climbed the last few steps and moved to the leftmost door. Her hand shook as she turned the brass knob. Pushing the door just enough to get it to swing on its own, she peered inside. It was dark, but the heavily filtered daylight still showed Lizzie more than she needed. It was almost a mirror image of her dead parent's room. The covers thrown about, dark splotches on the walls and sheets. Bodies lying on the floor. She saw that both bodies were adult-sized and a thrill went through her heart. Maybe Gordo was still alive!
She pulled the door closed. One more room and she would know. The tension in her body was more than just the events of the morning, an aching ran through her that she was only now becoming aware of. Her mind flashed through the possibilities of what happened to Gordo. Most of them she didn't want to acknowledge, but her newfound inner strength made her face them. She would do what she had to, it was what Gordo would want.
She stood in front of Gordo's door, light came from under the door, but no sounds came from inside. Lizzie agonized for moments, should she knock, should she just barge in, weapon in hand?
Lizzie knocked lightly on the door. It swung open. Forty watt light filled the room from the desk lamp on Gordo's familiar crowded but organized desk. Sitting in front of the desk with his back to the door was Gordo.