Sometimes We Ran (Book 3): Rescue Read Free

second I thought it might be locked. Turned out, the door was sticky. Not good news...pushing on the door might alert Zombie-Boy inside. As gently as I could, I pushed the stubborn door open. It squeaked from the hinges as it moved.
    Elizabeth and I froze in place. A couple more noises like that, and we were going to have a face full of something dead. I held out my hand. “Do you have a flashlight?” I asked.
    Elizabeth went to an inside pocket of her jacket, and produced a fancy pink model with chrome stripes. I clicked it on, and the strong, white light pierced the darkness. The foyer and living room were empty.
    “Let's go.” I looked down and saw Elizabeth clutching her rifle with white knuckles. She was breathing pretty hard, and not blinking. “Easy, Liz. Finger off the trigger until we see something.”
    Elizabeth relaxed a bit. “I'm okay.” She let her rifle hang, and shook out her hands for a few seconds. “I'm okay,” she repeated.
    We walked into the dark house and began to search. The single-level, L-shaped ranch-style house was still decorated with the former occupants' possessions all covered in plastic tarps. Everything was stacked against the walls, and the carpet was removed. The hallway to the bedrooms was barricaded by some extra furniture. A strong breeze flowed through the living room, which set the tarps  dancing around. Sound echoed off the walls of the small space. Liz and I paused at the entrance to the back porch. It was open with no door, and covered with another tarp that moved in the wind. The door itself was leaning on a nearby wall, broken and useless after a previous incident. The tarp covering the opening was covered in greasy handprints.
    I nodded towards the empty door frame. “That's how he got inside.” 
    A clattering sound came from inside the house. Very close by.
    “Kitchen,” I whispered to Elizabeth.
    She nodded. “Should we split up? You take the dining room, and I take the hallway and get behind him?”
    I thought about it for a second. “No. Let's stick together. Less chance of us shooting each other in the dark.”
    We walked as slow as possible, trying not to make any noise. Noise, smell, sight...it didn't matter. The zombies could spot you all three ways. It was hard to sneak up on the Red-Eyes. With any luck, it was occupied by something in the kitchen and wouldn't notice our approach. Luck was something else you needed in a zombie apocalypse.
    Elizabeth and I crossed the dining room, still full of beautiful furnishings. With the exception of the dust, it looked like dinner could be served here at a moments notice. I marveled at how quickly things could change. One minute, this house was a thriving family home. The next, it's a dark, empty house of horrors with a zombie locked inside. Many of the houses of Cannon Fields were still empty and dark. We still planned to fill them up one day with more survivors.
    We stood in the kitchen doorway, and got our first up-close look at Zombie-Boy. He stood before the stainless-steel refrigerator and slammed himself into the large appliance over and over, trying to attack his reflection. Sometimes he used his teeth and hands, leaving smeary handprints on the steel. His frostbitten feet made squeaking noises on the marble floor.
    I put away the flashlight and drew my gun. Nothing fancy. Just kill the bastard. As if Elizabeth could read my mind, she took cover behind the door frame and readied her weapon. She looked back at me, and I nodded. The kill was hers.
    Before Elizabeth could pull the trigger and extinguish the zombie's spark, it lifted its head and took a deep, snarling sniff of the air. The zombie had caught our scent. After taking in few more gulps of air, it pinpointed our location and turned around. Zombie-Boy hunched over into attack position, and a low growl that made the hair stand up on my arm escaped his rotting lips.
    The Red-Eye pounced on us from the kitchen. It knocked me to the ground, and my gun came