It's a long one... but just a story

Barbara looked out the window carefully; a simple peer from the side making sure not to move the blinds too much. It was dark out with only a few scattered lights around the neighborhood. The same lights as every night. She could see the For Sale sign in the front yard. A sign of a nearly forgotten past. They had always wanted this house but circumstances prevented them from ever buying it officially. Barbara turned her eyes away from it, quielty waiting, her brow furrowed in concern. George was taking longer than before.

It was then she heard a rustling in the bushes on the side of the house. The only time George made that much noise was when he thought he was being followed. She hurriedly moved the dresser back away from the door and unlatched the chain. Keeping the door pressed shut, Barbara turned the handle.

George burst in with something under his left arm. She could see the fear on his face. He put the index finger from his free hand up to his lips when Barbara opened up her mouth and she quickly closed it. He held his finger there, eyes darting around the room, for several more moments. His shoulders slumped and his head leaned forward as a sign of his relief.

He gestured over to the dining room, or what was left of it, and she walked over to clear room for his catch. George placed the dog carcass on the table and looked Barbara in the eyes, smiling. The spittle on its snout told her it was fresh. It may not be what they hungered for but it was better than what they've had for a couple of weeks: rats, birds, gophers and other local pests. At least it had some meat on it, she thought.

Times had changed for them and they were adjusting as best they could. All told, it was better than the alternative. They both knew it could easily be worse. It had only been one year since the "plague" had hit. That was all anyone seemed to understand. An unknown agent was introduced into the world that, in one night, caused all the recently deceased to come back.

And they came back hungry.

The dead became the top of the food chain. Anything living was fair game but they preferred human flesh. The media mistakenly called them "cannibals" but that wasn't the truth. They were as far removed from living people as George and Barbara were from the dog laid out before them. As they began to take off pieces of the former neighborhood pet, their minds continued to wander.

George and Barbara were drawn to this house when the plague first began. They had been planning on buying it and their first thoughts were to run here. It helped that they had nowhere else to go. Soon they found out they weren't alone here.

They remembered the neighborhood coming together in the face of adversity. They remembered how each person had a purpose and no one was left out. Word would spread fast whenever something happened, good or bad. Hostile encounters and quiet moments were shared. No one stood alone and no one was left to fend for themselves. If food was discovered, no one kept it secret. Often times, it required a group to really deal with the kill anyway.

But slowly, their numbers dwindled. Some would go out searching for more to eat and never return. It wasn't difficult to figure out what had happened. The confusion that dominated the world for months after the plague hit slowly turn to monotony and habit. Hide, hunt, eat. Basic drives became more important.

They both continued to eat what they could of the dog. The fur was difficult to deal with but pulled off easier around the larger pieces. They had noticed that since the plague, no one had any issues with raw meat. No one got sick anymore. No one had colds or fevers or any other ailment. Hunger was the only illness and raw or cooked, it was meat that satisfied it. The body needed the protein and other nutrients to be able to withstand the stresses of the new world.

Sounds outside made them both come back to the present. Shadows moved in front of the dim lights on the shades. George's eyes went wide and began to push Barbara towards the back. The master bedroom had a deep closet that actually had a corner in it. They kept large boxes near it that could quickly be pulled to make it seem as if the closet ended. It had served them well once before. Barbara tugged one last piece off and without saying a word, followed George as he shuffled towards the sanctuary.

As they turned the corner into the closet and began pulling the boxes, they heard the front door open. The sounds of the intruders made them jump, almost tipping the top box over. If it hadn't been for George's reflexes, though the motion caused a grunt from him, they would've been easily discovered. As it was, they could hear the intruders moving about. It sounded like at least two but may have been three.

Without any further noise, they crouched down, and he pulled her tightly to him. They sat huddled, hugging, and listened. George kissed Barbara on the back of her head tenderly. He wanted to say what he felt but knew he couldn't. Barbara showed similar restraint as she responded by simply tightenting her grip on his arms.

They heard the footsteps of one of the invaders as he came into the master bedroom. He was clearly working his way around the room. They heard the bed move and then the bathroom door open with such force, they wondered if he had kicked it in. All that was left in the room was the closet.

The footsteps became louder.

They heard the clothes move on their hangers.

George stared at the boxes, dreading any sign of movement in them. Barbara pulled his arms even tighter around her. The footsteps took a few steps back and her grip relaxed but then, the top box was pulled down and away from them. George pushed her forward, to hide in the very corner and he stood up, screaming.

With all the anger he could muster, George plowed through the remaining boxes to get at the stranger in his home. He managed to get ahold of the man, dressed all in black. He tugged at the strange jacket the stranger was wearing and tried to twist. He was hoping to throw him to the ground but was unsuccessful. Instead, George felt two hands hit his chest and he staggered back against the wall next to the closet.

Barbara sat in a fetal position inside the closet, listening to the fight. The loud pop of a gun shot startled her but she kept quiet. She knew what George did and wasn't going to let his sacrifice be in vain.

Unfortunately, these intruders were more experienced at this. The man who had just shot her husband and defender peaked around the corner, made eye contact with her and just as she was about to plead for any sort of mercy, she felt her head explode.

The other one had come into the bedroom and saw the body sprawled out on the carpet.

"Jesus fucking christ, Jimmy," he said, "what the fuck you doin'?"

Jimmy walked back out of the closet, wiping his forehead. "Fuck, man, there was two of 'em. The bastards were fuckin' hiding, man!" He stared at the male... the thing... that was still twitching where he had dropped it. Raising his gun, he took more careful aim than when he was trying to keep the creature from biting him, and said while shaking his head, "I swear, Tom, they were hiding."

One more shot and the thing stopped moving completely.