The remaining of the group sat outside of the burning house, trying to catch their breath. Then the questions began.
"What even caused the fire?" Liam asked.
"I have no idea." Joakim said.
"Chapin was the first one up." Hannah accused, narrowing her eyes at the woman on the ground. Chapin glared at her.
"I was the first one to notice the fire. And if I wanted to kill you, I could have easily left you there to burn." Chapin retorted. Hannah was about to argue, but shut her mouth and turned around.
"Let's just go. We can't be out in the open." Hannah said.
"True. We need cover." Zoey agreed.
Joakim and Liam helped Chapin to her feet, and the group walked down the road, keeping an eye out for zombies.
As they continued their trek, there were fewer and fewer houses. It seemed they were leaving the abandoned town. But it didn't bother them; just staying in this town for a few days had made some horrible memories.
Before the town broke off into a field, there was a large mansion on the right side of the road. It was an old Victorian mansion, and it caught the group's eye. A black-painted fence surrounded it, with spikes on the top. The grave pathway lead to a door with a lion head knocker on it.
"Should we go inside?" Lewis asked.
"Maybe there'll be something for Chapin's leg." Zoey suggested.
"But there could be dead in there!" Hannah argued.
"It's a chance I'd take." Chapin said through gritted teeth.
"There could also be supplies we'll need. We lost everything in that fire." Liam said.
"Fine." Hannah said after a moment.
The group walked up the gravel path and up to the door. Joakim knocked on the wooden door, but no one answered. He opened it.
The mansion was empty. Or so it seemed like it. A chandelier dangled from the high ceiling, and there was a staircase leading up to another floor. There was furniture, mostly broken, all Victorian style. The windows were boarded up, and it seemed like someone was sleeping down there; there was a blanket and torn pillow in one corner of the room. Empty cans and bottles of water were strewn everywhere, along with the smell of alcohol.
"Do you think whoever was here, is still here?" Liam asked.
"Maybe. But we hadn't seen anything or anyone. Although, I wonder where that smell is coming from...." Lewis said.
Suddenly, there was a sound like a battle cry and a figure jumped out of the shadows. Something gleamed in it's hand, and it swung it around at the group.
The group screamed and ducked, hoping not to get cut up. Chapin was left to defend for herself, because her escorts had ran away from the crazed man. In fact, the very person was a man who's clothes were torn, and dried blood coating his hands. Waves of alcohol wafted off of him, signifying that this man is wasted. And with the blood running down his head, the group could only think that he's gone crazy from a head wound. A bad feeling rose in Lewis' stomach as he thought about his own head wound.
Chapin fell to the floor, pain erupting in her leg. She crawled backwards as the man walked towards her, a crazed look in his grey-green eyes, the large kitchen knife dangling in his hands.
Just as the man was about to sink the knife into Chapin's face, someone else rammed himself into the other man.
Chapin, along with everyone else, looked up to see who the hero was.
