I didn’t have the strength to throw the corpses over, so I pushed them to the side. Berke’s sweater was covered in mess. But he stood up straight and had a blank look on his face. He was holding the door open.
Inside it was mostly dark. There were two long hallways that met at the door, paneled in dark wood. A series of cupboards lined one wall and ended at a floor-to-ceiling glass wall. Dad came in behind me, and stopped.
“Go on in,” Berke said.
“Are there any of them in there?” I asked.
“No,” Berke said, closing the heavy looking steel door. The lock clicked and I dropped the crowbar to the granite tiled floor. It clattered loudly, and Nancy yipped. The plastic bag I gave her crinkled.
“Sorry, everyone. I’m just tired.”
Dad let out a huff, and moved off down the long hallway.
“Straight ahead,” said Berke. And we all followed Dad down the hallway. I passed another dark hallway stretching toward another floor to ceiling window. The light coming in shone harshly off the floor and walls, and off the door’s chrome handles.
The end of the hallway was a kitchen, walled on the outside in glass. Zombies were visible in the distance in the harsh sunlight, coming toward the house. There was a big black table surrounded by chairs; everything boxy, and dark, and shiny. I passed a floating wall made up of the oven, sink, and fridge, and there was a living room. When I got to the glass wall I looked down. I couldn’t see any zombies under the house, but I could hear them faintly. Everyone sat down but Berke, and I dropped onto a chair made of black mesh and metal.
“Thanks,” Nancy said.
Liz winced. Berke took off his sweater, balled it up and mopped his face with it.
“So who’s everyone,” he said.
I just looked weakly at Dad, of all people.
“Stan,” he said, leaning over and holding out his hand to Berke. “Nancy, and Liz,” Dad said. Berke tossed aside the sweater behind the couch.
“I’m Joe,” I said, raising my hand.
“Great,” Berke said smiling, “Just great.” He sat on the couch. He sighed comfortably. “I didn’t know what to make of the huffing, and pummeling sounds at first. I’m...just,” he said, getting overwhelmed. “You’re alive.”
Liz raised her eyebrows in recognition; nodded her head.”
“Thanks for letting us in,” Nancy said. “We didn’t really have a plan for getting inside your house.”
We didn’t, I realized. I wondered what point Nancy was trying to make. I knew that I’d taken on a leading role, but I didn’t think I was doing that bad a job. We were all still alive...or most of us. I was so tired. I tried to think of something to say to Nancy, but was too tired.
“Oh,” Berke let out a chuckle, “It’s not my house. We just got here last night.”
“We?” I inclined my head.
“Shandre,” he said, “my sister’s kid. She’s asleep in a bedroom.
“That everyone then?” asked my Dad.
Berke looked confused for a second. “That’s all of us.”
Everyone sat quietly for a second. The chorus of moaning rose up into the room like someone had turned a knob. I laid down onto the lounge chair and closed my eyes breathing slowly and tried to fall asleep, but couldn’t. It’s constant tone was hypnotizing.
“So,” Nancy said warily after a few minutes—then stopped short. She coughed a little bit. “So where areyou from. Berke.”
“Here in Ellington,”
I opened my eyes. I couldn’t believe we’d already made it to Ellington. I thought for sure were were still in the city limits. Ellington was two suburbs north; a day, walking, past the end of the lake.
“I think so,” Berke continued. “Shandre and I were only on the move for half a day. Close to Ellington anyway.”
“We’re from the city,” Liz said. I looked at her. Her jeans were dirty, she was sitting deep in the black leather armchair against the dark wall. Her face stood out stark white against it.
A sharp wail emitted from the wall behind her. It broke into gasps and then finally the crying of a small girl.
“Sorry,” Berke said standing up. “She’s hurt.”
“Is there any medicine here?” Dad asked, He began opening his backpack. It was mostly full of cans. “I’ve got—”
“There actually is,” said Berke pointing to a door. “This is the bathroom. There’s another door on the other side. The medicine cabinet’s in there. It’s stocked.” And he disappeared around the corner. His feet echoed on the tile and we heard a door open and close. The crying stopped.
“I don’t know about him,” I said.
“Stop it,” said Nancy.
“Stop what?”
Nancy lowered her voice to a whisper. “You’ve got no reason to think that. You're just tired, and we’re not going to do that. I’m not.”
I sagged into the chair.
“I thought you just brought cans,” I said to my Dad.
“And paranoid,” said Nancy, eyeing me steadily, reassuringly.
“That’s the most you’ve said all day,” I said.
She just looked at me, hurt.
“Look,” I said, “I’m just tired.”
“Let’s just sit quietly for a second” she said.
I closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep again. Nobody said anything for at least a half an hour before I fell asleep. When I woke up again the sun was going down. Nancy and Liz were sitting on the couch talking quietly. Dad walked back in from the kitchen holding his rifle. He said something to me, trying to be funny. I pushed myself up into the chair and looked outside. Nancy said that Berke hadn’t been out of the room all day.
Eventually he did come out. A girl, about seven, hid behind his back clinging to his shirt scruff.
“Shandre,” Berke said, “Come on.” And he put his hand on her head.
Nancy leaned forward encouragingly. “Hi,” she waved, “I’m Nancy.”
“Hello,” Shandre said in a small voice. She came out from behind Berke. Her skin was much lighter than Berke’s. She was wearing an overlarge tee-shirt, the neck hanging around the top of a shoulder. Underneath it, mounds of bandages were wrapped around her skin. Despite the amount of skin her bandages covered a huge bruise was visible, dark and veiny stretching over her neck and chest. Her eyes were a little red, from crying I assumed. She looked like she’d been through it.
—Introduction and Dramatis Personæ
