Star: A Zombie Story

8 - Check In

When we return to the apartment, the atmosphere is heavy. Stifling. The air feels thicker, like the weight of everything we've seen is pressing down on all of us.

"I don't think the power is coming back on anytime soon," I say softly, breaking the oppressive silence. Frankie doesn't look up, just nods once as he sits at the kitchen table, methodically loading shells into his shotgun. It feels less like preparation and more like he's trying to steady himself, to regain some control in all this chaos.

"Homegirl's right," Oscar says, his voice quieter than usual. He nudges Frankie with his elbow. "Maybe we should head down and grab our shit, yeah? Bring it all up here. You know, just in case."

Frankie glances over at me, his expression unreadable, but the unspoken question is clear: Are you okay with this?

"Of course, guys," I reply quickly, even though my chest feels tight at the thought. "My dad will be totally cool with it once we tell him what we saw..." My voice falters, and my stomach twists painfully at the mention of him. The gnawing worry for his safety grows sharper with every second he's not home.

"Aight, then," Frankie says, standing and slinging the shotgun over his shoulder. "We better do it now. Who knows what else is comin' our way. Downtown's already a mess-I think we're on the clock."

"I'll come too," I blurt out, the words tumbling from my mouth before I've even thought them through. "Maybe I should swing by the store, make sure Mr. Calhoun and Justin are okay. And Mr. Rosario-oh no, he lives in front of that old salon!" My heart races at the sudden thought of him out there, vulnerable. "What if he's not okay? What if-" I cant believe I hadn't thought about him sooner!

"Baby, you ain't goin' nowhere," Frankie cuts me off, raising a hand to stop me mid-panic. His voice is firm, but there's an edge of protectiveness that softens it. "That shit ain't safe down there. You know it."

"Frankie, I have to check-"

"Star, listen," Oscar interrupts, his tone gentler now, more measured. "Ain't no power, no lights. Ain't nobody gonna be at the store. And Mr. Rosario? That dude ain't stupid. He's probably somewhere safe right now, locked up tight." He tilts his head, giving me a small, reassuring smile as he clips the leash to Mamas' collar. "Don't let your brain eat you alive over it."

But staying still feels impossible. The worry gnaws at me like a living thing, coiling tighter and tighter in my chest. I need to do something, anything, to make sure everyone's okay.

"Justin and his dad live above the store in that apartment," I say stubbornly, folding my arms. "I'll just go knock. I'll be back before you guys even know it."

Frankie lets out a loud, frustrated sigh, straightening his back as he rubs the bridge of his nose. His expression softens slightly, though, as he shakes his head. "Look, I'll walk you. I can't let you go alone," he says, before adding,
"You're a scrappy little thing, but we can't take no chances when we don't know what's out there."

I can't help but smile at him, tilting my head. "Thank you," I say quietly.

---

When we step out onto the street, the silence of the neighborhood is almost unbearable. It's too quiet, unnatural. From here, the distant sounds of chaos-screams, sirens, crashes-carry faintly on the wind, but our street feels frozen in time. Not a single person is outside. No idling cars, no neighbors lingering on stoops, no laughter or chatter. Just stillness.

A chill runs down my spine as I take in the sight, instinctively shivering. I glance toward Oscar, who nods at us before unlocking his apartment and slipping inside with Mamas.