"Hey Molly, could you help me move this chair thing?", Ashley asked, glancing up at the raven haired girl who was currently taking a momentary pause in her duties of object moving; a task that Nick had assigned a few minutes prior.
Molly had paused to figure out what she would move next.
Ashley knew that she wouldn't be able to move the lounge chair on her own, and would certainly be grateful for help, and since Molly wasn't doing anything better at the moment, why not?
Molly spun slightly to face her, her task of what to move next solved in a single swoop by Ashley, "Sure. Where's it going?"
"Right over there.", Mike interrupted, pointing to a low window, while entering the room with Ali and Tracy in tow several feet behind. The trio had left the room for about a minute ago to see what other doors and windows could be blocked. They already had every door leading into the house (There were three of them) blocked off by the various furniture that the group had moved quickly and efficiently: The main couch, the largest one, was blocking the front door. It was wedged against the staircase leading upstairs in such a way that there was no possible way to open the door.
That couch had been a group effort to move, requiring all five of them to complete the task, which was done in what Mike had called "Record time."
The medium couch had been moved by Mike and Molly, and it blocked the back door leading to backyard, and it had been piled with dozens and dozens of hardback books that had been found in the master bedroom upstairs; a bedroom that more resembled a small library upon any kind of inspection. Apparently, Molly's Aunt and Uncle were quite the readers. Is was up to Ashley, Tracy, and Ali to move as many books from the upstairs as they could while Molly and Mike moved the couch.
The couple had finished their job first, and had helped finish the book moving, and making numerous stacks on the couch, some towering several feet high. Though, Molly was still feeling sick, so Mike tried as best as he could to keep her from overdoing it.
The couch blocking the back door had nothing to wedge against, but it weighed so much it didn't seem plausible to move the thing without some dynamite.
The final door, one leading out the side of the house from the small laundry room, had been the easiest one of all to setup. Mike simply moved the washer and dryer several feet, and, abra-kadabra, instant barricade. He had then shut the laundry door, and moved one of the dining room chairs to wedge it shut, declaring the laundry room to be "off-limits."
Of course all doors leading to the outside were completely locked, but the odds of even opening the doors if they weren't at this point seemed rather low.
And now all that was left in the living room was the single lounge chair, which Mike had directed to block the outside view of one of the living rooms low windows, though they were already blocked with curtains. Mike wasn't taking and chances
Mike, with his shotgun slung on his back, moved towards the lounge chair before Molly could even take a step. Then, the huge teen shoved the chair the three feet to put it against the wall, and another foot back to make it rest right up to the window, covering more then half of it up, and pushing the dull white curtains flat against the wall.
"And I can still sit the thing.", Mike smiled, "Awesome...", He paused for a brief moment, then added, turning to leave, "I'm gonna check on the others. You guys just chill here for a moment, kay?"
"Sure.", Molly answered for everyone.
Mike smiled at his girlfriend. "Be back in a tick.", he said leaving the room, going where Nick told him to keep the girls away from, and leaving them to their own devices.
"I get the chair while he's gone.", Tracy. laughed slightly, jumping into the recently moved armchair.
Ashley made a huffing noise, then cracked a smile, "That's not fair. We should probably take a vote on who gets the stupid chair. We vote on everything else."
Molly laughed, sitting down on the floor, criss crossing her legs in a meditation-like way, and leaning against the wall. She still didn't feel a hundred percent, and all the strain put on her today wasn't helping much.
Ashley turned to her, and gave a small grin, "Oh, right you missed that, " she said, also sitting down on the floor and propping herself up against the lounger chair where Tracy sat, eyes darting back and forth between Molly and Ashley, tracking the conversation.
"Yeah," Molly agreed, "Yeah I did. What exactly happened?"
Ashley shrugged, "Not much. Nick said we needed a leader, then got voted in himself. Now it's like a dictatorship," she said, rolling her eyes a bit.
"It's not that bad, Ash." Tracy sighed.
"We're alive aren't we?", a fourth voice, the quietest one, entered the conversation, and all eyes turned to Ali who was the farthest away from the group, propped against the far wall in a similar fashion that Molly was.
"Alright, I'll give you that," Ashley agreed after a slight pause, "He does seemed determined to get us all out of this."
Tracy gave a laugh, "Yeah, whatever this is."
"It's certainly pretty messed up out there," Molly added, her mind straying to her dead mother, and her probably dead father. At least, Molly hoped her parents were completely dead. At this point, it seemed the best thing to hope for.
Molly almost wanted to ask the three other girls what had happened to their families, though she thought better of it. Thinking about her mother and father made Molly nearly tear up right there, but she refused to let herself. She had to keep her mind clear of everything like that, or she'd be in too much grief to survive.
Everyone else looked pretty stable, considering, and Molly hoped the others where doing as she was; putting her grief in some faraway place in her mind until the immediate danger passed. There would be grieving, yes. But not now. Not right this second.
Molly decided to try her best never to bring up families to anyone.
There was another pause, this one lengthier, and everyone in the room, looked out into space for a moment, fighting the same demons that Molly had just bested.
Tracy broke the silence: "How long have you and Mike been together?", she addressed Molly.
"Oh God, nearly two years, now," Molly replied, having to think slightly to remember just how long. She had been with Mike forever, it seemed, and she had never once really considered a break-up. She was far two happy. Mike was just such a nice, mild-mannered guy who knew how to treat woman. In Molly's opinion, he also associated with an above-average group of friends, and that was always good that your boyfriend's friends were yours as well.
She had know Nick and Chad nearly as long as she had known Mike, and she considered the pair to be brothers of sorts. Molly had always been welcome in their little group. Yes, one on one situations with Mike was a must, but if she had to hang out with a group of people, which she often did, she was glad that it was Nick and Chad she was hanging with.
"Almost two years? That's incredible," Tracy said.
Molly shook her head, and noticed the bizarre feeling that the motion generated because of her cold, or flu, or whatever it is she had, "Not really," she said, "No, not at all."
Truth be told, she loved Mike with all her heart.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"This is in-fucking-credible...", Chad muttered, taking another look around the blood bathed kitchen, moments after his pine sol remark that hadn't generated so much as a giggle from Nick
Nick nodded once, then clapped his hands together once, "Right then, to the garage."
He turned to leave and Chad followed.
The pair arrived at the garage door. On the other side of the house, Mike led the four girls in moving random household objects around to make barriers and other obstacles to keep the living dead at bay.
Nick slung the M4 off his shoulder, and Chad followed suit with the M1, "Didn't you already check the garage?" Chad asked, skeptically.
"Naturally. Several times, but it's when you drop your guard that you die. Would you get the door please?", Nick raised the M4 to his shoulder, and waited.
"Sure," Chad muttered.
"Just get the fuck out of the way, and get your weapon ready," Nick said softly.
"Oh, I got this shit. I saw it on an episode of COPS," Chad moved to the door and grabbed the knob.
Nick hadn't had time to ask if COPS regularly aired episodes of the men in blue taking on zombies, before Chad opened the door, and got the fuck out of the way.
Nick scanned the garage, going back and forth slowly three full times before he was satisfied that there was nothing there. Chad waited patiently behind him with his weapon raised as well.
"Clear," Nick reported, re-slinging the M4 once again, and Chad doing the same.
The garage was a simple two car layout with room near the door to the house for an aging fridge and a the random stuff that clutters most garages.
There were two cars present: a small, dark blue Ford Taurus from the nineties, and a massive black Chevy Avalanche, with plenty of room for the house's previous occupants.
It took Chad about a second to think it through.
"Dibs," he said pointing at the Taurus.
Nick turned to stare at him, confused and Chad had to control himself from laughing or smiling in any way.
"Nah, I'm just fuckin' with you. I get the big one."
"I was starting to wonder," Nick smiled slightly, taking a step into the garage and looking around, "I also wonder where the keys to these things are. That Chevy may be a little more feasible a ride then a fucking school bus."
Chad laughed, "Can't argue with that shit, man."
Nick spotted a box of large, thirty-three gallon black trash bags, and quickly scooped them up, "Perfect... As stupid as this sounds, we can wear these on our legs to keep all that blood and shit off of us. These bags are where we'll end up putting the... remains, I guess you could refer to it as."
"Yeah, we'll have to double-bag the ones that have a lot of blood in 'em. Y'know, to stop drips and shit... Cuz blood, man, that shit gets everywhere."
The pair locked eyes and stared at each other for a few moments, then broke into full-fledged laughter at how disgusting and ridiculous this conversation was.
"Dude, we're fucking sick!" Chad said, trying to control himself.
"Yeah, it's pretty fucked up,", Nick added as Chad looked towards one of the walls in the garage, and spotting something, "What is it?" Nick asked, nearly bringing the M4 carbine to bear before Chad took several steps over and picked up something.
"Check this shit out," Chad said smiling and holding up the object he had spotted, "It's a fucking snow shovel!"
Nick gave a semi-grim smile, remebering Mike's earlier snow shovel remark, "Right. Let's get on it."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I'm alive.
That is all.