Love, Lust and the Dead

Chapter Three

                                                                                              Jay's POV

We find ourselves in a large living area. A black chesterfield sits infront of glass coffee table and a dusty fire place. Picture frames hang on the walls and sat on the mantle above the fire place. To our left was a door leading to another room. Kylie moved to go check it out. She opens the door to the room and gasps happily. "Jay! It's a music room!" Kylie exlaims. I walk over with one sword drawn and peek inside, ready for anything that will attack. "There's nothing in here but dusty instruments dude. Chill." Kylie says to me and moves over so I can clearly see inside. "Hmm. And that there is... dude." I say. I look at Kylie, who is eyeing the piano sitting in the corner, knowing her fingers are itching to touch the keys. "C'mon, lets check the rest of the place out."

As we round the corner outside of the music room, the smell of something rotten hits us hard. Infront of us is a mess of a kitchen. Molded ruins of some sort of meat lay in pieces on the floor, flies and maggots claiming the mess. Kylie and I use our shirts to cover our noses. "Come on." I mumble, my eyes begining to water from the stentch. We pass a dining table and stop at a door under a staircase. Something that sounded like a grumble comes from within. Both Kylie and I adjust our grips on our weapons. I hold up my hand and count to three silently. On three, Kylie swings open the door and we step back. Kylie gasps and she falls to her knees. "Oh my God. Its a dog." she whimpers. I look inside and there was a dog. It lay there, hardly breathing, its ribs protruding through its skin. Obviously it hasn't eaten or had anything to drink in a while, I am surprised it is still alive. "Jay, we need to find water. Now." She gets up and frantically begins looking for a water source. "Here." I say, pulling out a water bottle from my bag. She snatches it and unscrews the cap, pours it into her cupped hand and urges the dog to drink it. It inhales and exhales slowly and slightly sticks out its tounge. It quickly finishes that and Kylie pours the rest onto the wooden floor. The dog begins to lick that up, his head lifting up slightly, his energy slowly recovering. Kylie looks at it with a sad look and then looks up at me, and I know exactly what she is thinking. "No. We are not keeping that dog. No way." Her frown deepens and she gives me those damn puppy dog eyes. Her glance shifts to me then to the dog which is now, laying its head on her lap, and then back to me.

"No." I repeat.

"Jay, C'mon. It's on fuckin death row." She argues.

"So let it die. It will only get in our way, and be a distraction." I respond, annoyance clearly seeping through my words. Kylie looks at me hurt, and thats when I give in.

"Fine. Keep the damn dog, but I'm not going to be responsible for your death when it attracts a hoard of bloody fuckin walkers." I say. She looks up at me happily, moves out from under the dogs head and jumps up to give me a tight hug. "Okay, we really need to finish looking around." She nods her head in agreement and steals another water bottle from my bag to give to the dog. I roll my eyes and begin to head up the stairs.

* * *

Turns out, this is a really big house. So far, the bottom floor consists of a living are, dining area, kitchen, music room, and a pantry. We haven't finished searching the second floor but what we did find was that it consists of three bedrooms so far.

"Let's split up. But be on your toes. You know the signal." If Kylie or I split up at any given time, and we are in a place with hollow surfaces, we bang up against it. Only if we can't shout for any given reason if we are in any sort of trouble. She nods her head and we split up. I go into the next room on the right and she goes to the one on the left. Sword ready in hand, I creak open the door.

A blast of cool air hits me and inside is a nursery. A cradle sits in the corner next to an open window, a rocking chair right next to it, and a diaper changing table. There is a dresser and on top of it are packages of diapers, a half filled bottle laying on its side, and a picture of a baby and its mother. I walk over and pick it up. Both of them look happy so it must have been a time before the outbreak. Out of nowhere, I hear a gurgling noise from the cradle. Oh fuck. Slowly, I set the picture down and inch towards the noise with caution. Inside, lays a baby girl. I don't even want to say it was a girl... or a baby. But a disgusting, bloody, smelly, rotten crawler. "Oh my..." I breathe. It was sad. Looking at this...this...whatever it was. But it wasn't alive. My dream to have a child and correct my fathers mistakes and rule England suddenly overwhelms me. Looking at this thing only makes me want to put it of its misery, like every other bloody fuckin monster there is in this world. And that is exactly what im going to do. The infant hadn't developed any teeth yet so when I picked it up, it could only try to gnaw me. I didn't see any bite marks so it must have died by starvation and then turned. I bet it had beautiful eyes, now it stared at me with dull, almost grey eyes. As if all the colorful life was flushed away from them.

As I walk over to the window, the baby starts to slap at me and I extend my arms, moving it farther away from my face. The walkers from earlier still surround the cubicle on the ground, though some have given up and for some reason were attracted to the one next to us. I look at the baby one last time. For a split second, I felt pity for the damn thing, but that pity was quickly distinguished. Holding it outside the open window, I drop it.