Short Story #3: Family
"So… You and Ellis?"
Rochelle's question sounded more like a statement.
"Mind your own god-damned business," Nick snapped.
"I'd appreciate if you didn't use that tone with her, Nick," Coach almost sounded threatening.
Nick glared at the zombies milling around outside the fortified house the survivors decided to camp out in. When the hell would Ellis get out of the shower? Maybe he needed some help… Nick fought back a grin. Coach's words brought Nick back down to earth.
"We're just lookin' out for the boy," the man's voice was soft, "Cause we is the only family he got left."
There was a silence in the safe house's kitchen then.
Rochelle leaned back in one of the chairs; Coach shifted his position against the counter. Nick scratched at the green-tiled countertop, keeping his back to Coach and Rochelle.
The waiting survivors heard the water upstairs shut off.
Nick turned quickly and headed for the kitchen door. He was headed towards the stairs, to the bathroom, to Ellis.
"Hey Nick," Coach called.
The gambler stopped in the doorway of the kitchen, not turning around. "Leave me alone, Coach. You don't need to worry about what goes on between me and the kid." And with that, Nick left the kitchen.
The two survivors left in the kitchen heard the bathroom door slam.
"Well," Rochelle said, "All we can do is hope for the best."