She heard the sound; footsteps. Grabbing the pistol, she shined the flashlight in front of her.
"Whoa there," Jack said. "It's just me. The storm's over and it's eight in the morning. I just wanted to see where that stairwell went to. After we ate some breakfast."
Helen through the blanket off of her legs and stood up. Together they left the food locker and out into the diner. She grabbed some of the cans that were setting on the shelf in the little kitchen. Cold hash, a great way to start the day.
Taking the can, she went out to join him at the counter.
"There might be something we could use up those stairs that we could use," he said, spooning out some cold hash.
She grimaced when the hash touched her tongue. She was never a big hash fan; cold, it was worse. He looked at her and smiled.
"Your arms going to get pretty tired, holding that gun on me." He shoveled some more hash in his mouth. "Hash is one of my favorites."
She took another bite, forcing herself to chew, and then swallow. Having enough to eat, he laid his spoon aside and stood up, looking down at her.
"I'll go check it out."
She pushed the hash away from her and stood up.
"I'm coming with you."
The stairwell was brightly lit from the sun. Clouds of dust rose as they walked. One of the windows was smashed out; those "Things" trying to get in. The glass crunched under his feet, as he stepped to the bottom of the staircase. Turning to look back at her, he started up. Holding the pistol and keeping alert, she followed him.
He reached the top landing and found a door. Motioning for her too stay put, he placed his hand on the knob and gave it a turn; it was unlocked. He slowly opened the door.
Sunlight spilled in through the windows into a small apartment kitchen. The kitchen was empty. Jack motioned for her to follow as he stepped inside. He looked around the room. He eyed a portable radio on the counter. Helen walked over and picked it up.
"Well, this is totally useless. The world is gone. Madness and survivors roam the country side."
"You never know," he said. "I'll go into one of the stores and find some batteries for it."
He saw the brightly lit living room and walked into it. There was some furniture; a couch and a couple of chairs. He looked at Helen.
"This might not be so bad. A food locker down stairs, an apartment upstairs. We could do well for awhile. We'll just have to reinforce the stairwell."
She froze when she heard the noise down the small hallway. She handed him the gun. Taking it, he proceeded cautiously down the hall, the gun pointed in front of him.
Hearing the noise outside of the room, he stopped. Taking the gun's safety off he slowly turned the door knob and pushed the door open. The "Thing" that once had been a young man, was banging around on the couch. His head and hands hitting the wall; knocking paintings to the floor.
Seeing Jack, he got up off the couch and shambled toward him. Drool running from his mouth as he bared his teeth, making small guttural sounds. Keeping the gun trained on him, Jack backed up. It shambled on. Cocking the gun he hesitated, like someone that would hesitate putting down a beloved pet. He backed up, not wanting it to get closer. He squeezed the trigger.
The explosive sound of the gun deafened him in the silence. A large hole was blown in the things chest, as the impact slammed it into the wall. It slid down, staining the dingy white red. His ears ringing he stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Entering the living room, he found her staring in the direction of the hallway.
"Just one here," he said, slipping the gun into his pocket. "But once we reinforce this place, it should be safe enough. Better than food the locker. A bit of home." Looking out the window at the daylight beyond, the bright afternoon sun glinting on the window. Then he looked back at her. "Plenty of daylight left. I'll raid some of the stores, get what we need."
"I'm coming with you."
"Let's go."
Together they left the apartment, making their way to the empty street below.
