Finding Sanctuary

The abandoned shack stood silently watching the old moor. It occasionally shuddered, aged limbs of rotten timber groaning as the cruel winter wind howled though the gaping window frames. Their glass had been lost long ago, perhaps to playing children, perhaps simply to age, but it most likely fell to zombies.

They appeared 4 years ago – although one would think it had been longer. The human race was all but annihilated, and devastatingly little of the old world remained.

Some of the few scattered survivors had formed various Sanctuaries, and now most humans were either dead, residing in a Sanctuary, or trying to find one.

Scarlett Jacquin and Danielle Brown belonged to the latter category, and were trekking through the wastelands of the old cities. The two women were trying to find a Sanctuary, for their old one had been overrun by zombies a few weeks ago. Almost everyone had been killed or infected – a bite or even a mere scratch from a zombie carried the parasite that caused the transformations.

The two stumbled upon the old shack and decided to rest there for the night. It was bitterly cold in the moors and, to make matters worse, it had been raining relentlessly for the best part of three hours and the downpour showed no sign of abating any time soon.

"No use being so exhausted we can barely stand." Scarlett pushed her mass of dripping hair out of her face as she carefully opened the door to the dilapidated building on the moor, "We should rest here for the night."

"We don't want to be making a zombie's life any easier now do we?" joked Danielle, trying to lighten the mood. Her ash-blonde pixie cut was plastered to her forehead and rain ran down her face in rivulets.

Scarlett snorted lightly before creeping carefully through to what looked like the sitting room and placing her backpack down on the dusty floor.

"Danny?"

"Yeah?" She looked over from where she had been examining the door for a possible locking mechanism – anything that could aid in keeping zombies out. The two had heard many a story of people who forgot to secure their lodgings for the night only to be rudely awoken by zombies.

"I'm going to search the kitchen for any food. Can you try to secure the doors and windows?"

"Sure thing, Red." Scarlett rolled her eyes fondly at the nickname. They had been talking late one night, and Danny had commented on how her name matched her long flame-red hair, and thus the nickname 'Red' was born.

Scarlett wandered in search of a kitchen until she found a door that lead into it. The room was old fashioned, with a gas cooker and chipped slate counter tops. The fridge was rusted and in the eerie silence Scarlett couldn't hear it humming so she assumed it wasn't working – not that she was surprised. There had clearly been something perishable in it, as she could smell the sour stench of food four years out of date. She found a cupboard with some tins of what looked assorted curries and pasta sauces. Even two containing spaghetti bolognaise complete with noodles.

Perfect!

Next, she walked over to the gas stove and attempted to light it. It didn't work, but she figured it was worth a shot.

When Scarlett came back to the main room toting multiple cans of food, she found Danielle had already barricaded the windows and was busy filling the old-fashioned wood-burner with logs from the crate next to it.

"Oh, hey! You're back! These people actually had a wood-burner!" That was great, because anything electricity based no longer worked seeing as there was nowhere generating it anymore. "There's definitely enough wood to get us through the night and- wait! Is that spaghetti?"