Read Online Stories in a Lost World: Bridget by L.C. Mortimer - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: L.C. Mortimer
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us out of the barn and we looked at the farmhouse for the first time. There's no way we could stay here. Firstly, it was too close to the highway. If we were gonna stay somewhere, it couldn't be so close. We've all seen way too many movies to believe that bandits aren't real. Plus, our weapons suck. Knives? Get real.
The other problem was that there were no cars at the house and it looked like no one had lived there in years. The first floor windows were all intact and covered in dust.
"Let's see if there's any food, at least," Danielle said, eyeing me. She knew I was going to complain, like I always do, but I wouldn't give her the satisfaction. Not this time. Not when I was fucking starving.
"Good idea," I smiled sweetly and she looked shocked. It was totally worth it. I hate being the fussy one in the group, but someone has to do it.
We walked around the house twice, trying to figure out the best way to get inside. Finally, I decided to be the brave one and I checked under all the mats until I found a key. Voila. I unlocked the front door and we marched right on in.
Right into the arms of Mrs. Zombie.
The old woman was waiting for us. Maybe she smelled us, I don't know. All I know is that I screamed before I could stop myself, before I could think not to attract other zombies. Luckily, the woman was old and decaying and from the way she was missing her hands, I would guess she had been pawing at the front door for a long time, trying to get out.
Her skin and bones were gone up to her wrists. That's how long she'd been trying, and they were all over the back of the front door.
Fuckin' nasty.
We just had knives, but Kristy managed to get around the woman and kicked her out the front door. Booted her right in the ass. The woman fell onto the porch and laid there, moaning the way zombies do. Danielle took the opportunity to stab the woman in the back of the head a couple of times until the moans stopped.
Personally, I hate killing them unless I absolutely have to. It still feels too much like killing a person, which is awful. No thanks. I'll pass. Unfortunately, you really do have to kill them quickly. Otherwise, their squeals and moans will attract the other ones, and then you'll die.
Science.
We walked around the house. It seemed to be in pretty good shape, except for its frustrating proximity to the highway. The cupboards were practically full, so we took our fill, eating as much chili as we could and stuffing crackers and pudding and granola bars into our bags.
We all pinched our noses and I opened the fridge. I knew it would be gross. The stuff people put in fridges, like milk and meat, smell like shit when they've been rotting in place for a month, but I had to see if there was soda.
There was not.
Fuck.
We explored the rest of the house quickly, but there wasn't anything valuable except for a shotgun under the main bed. Kristy took that, as our leader, and carried it proudly. Finally: a real fucking weapon.
March 20th
Walked all day. My feet hurt, my back hurts, my face hurts. Everything sucks.
March 21st
Today we made it to another farmhouse. It was slightly more abandoned than the last one. By "slightly," I mean "completely," which means we can all sleep well tonight.
We're still east of school, east of the stupid fraternity that chased us out of our cozy house, but I suppose that's better. I suppose it's better to be away from civilization as much as possible, right?
The further you are from people, the less they can hurt you.
Danielle, Kristy, and I all explored the house. Unlike the last one, we couldn't just walk in the front door. We broke a window in the back of the house, one that led into the basement. We all kinda thought that this way, no one will notice right away that the glass is broken. Plus, it's easy to hide a ground-level break-in. We can move something, like a large rock, maybe, in front of that spot.
We slipped into the basement and used our flashlights to
The other problem was that there were no cars at the house and it looked like no one had lived there in years. The first floor windows were all intact and covered in dust.
"Let's see if there's any food, at least," Danielle said, eyeing me. She knew I was going to complain, like I always do, but I wouldn't give her the satisfaction. Not this time. Not when I was fucking starving.
"Good idea," I smiled sweetly and she looked shocked. It was totally worth it. I hate being the fussy one in the group, but someone has to do it.
We walked around the house twice, trying to figure out the best way to get inside. Finally, I decided to be the brave one and I checked under all the mats until I found a key. Voila. I unlocked the front door and we marched right on in.
Right into the arms of Mrs. Zombie.
The old woman was waiting for us. Maybe she smelled us, I don't know. All I know is that I screamed before I could stop myself, before I could think not to attract other zombies. Luckily, the woman was old and decaying and from the way she was missing her hands, I would guess she had been pawing at the front door for a long time, trying to get out.
Her skin and bones were gone up to her wrists. That's how long she'd been trying, and they were all over the back of the front door.
Fuckin' nasty.
We just had knives, but Kristy managed to get around the woman and kicked her out the front door. Booted her right in the ass. The woman fell onto the porch and laid there, moaning the way zombies do. Danielle took the opportunity to stab the woman in the back of the head a couple of times until the moans stopped.
Personally, I hate killing them unless I absolutely have to. It still feels too much like killing a person, which is awful. No thanks. I'll pass. Unfortunately, you really do have to kill them quickly. Otherwise, their squeals and moans will attract the other ones, and then you'll die.
Science.
We walked around the house. It seemed to be in pretty good shape, except for its frustrating proximity to the highway. The cupboards were practically full, so we took our fill, eating as much chili as we could and stuffing crackers and pudding and granola bars into our bags.
We all pinched our noses and I opened the fridge. I knew it would be gross. The stuff people put in fridges, like milk and meat, smell like shit when they've been rotting in place for a month, but I had to see if there was soda.
There was not.
Fuck.
We explored the rest of the house quickly, but there wasn't anything valuable except for a shotgun under the main bed. Kristy took that, as our leader, and carried it proudly. Finally: a real fucking weapon.
March 20th
Walked all day. My feet hurt, my back hurts, my face hurts. Everything sucks.
March 21st
Today we made it to another farmhouse. It was slightly more abandoned than the last one. By "slightly," I mean "completely," which means we can all sleep well tonight.
We're still east of school, east of the stupid fraternity that chased us out of our cozy house, but I suppose that's better. I suppose it's better to be away from civilization as much as possible, right?
The further you are from people, the less they can hurt you.
Danielle, Kristy, and I all explored the house. Unlike the last one, we couldn't just walk in the front door. We broke a window in the back of the house, one that led into the basement. We all kinda thought that this way, no one will notice right away that the glass is broken. Plus, it's easy to hide a ground-level break-in. We can move something, like a large rock, maybe, in front of that spot.
We slipped into the basement and used our flashlights to
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