In This World

°Not much of a home°

Monroe starts the truck as the chaos outside continues. He changes gears to drive and sighs in relief. "Full tank.... Should last us a while." He breathes through the silence of the cab. I smile, thankful that I wasn't one of the poor souls outside.

The next few minutes are continuous, comforting... Quiet. I look out at the landscape as it flies by. Trees and grass zoom past in a line of green. Catching an unwanted glimpse of someone's.... Dinner, I focus back inside the truck, looking at the dashboard. "Why did you save me?" I ask, breaking the silence. Monroe glances at me, then back to the road, refusing to answer my question. I look at my dress where it had been ripped by decayed hands. Bits of blood and dirt have stained the tears in the hem. My left thigh is covered in dirt, but unharmed. I grimace at the sight and sigh.

"Because... You were the closest to me at the time. I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't save everyone... But I wasn't going to let you stay there with those.... Things. I didn't want to be the only one that got away." I look at Monroe, his cheeks are stained from where tears had been streaming down. He wipes one away, attempting to clear his sight. I feel a knot develop in my throat, but I choke it down.

"Well.... Thank you. Let's just say I owe you-" "No... Just stay alive. Don't leave me alone in this." He laughs hopelessly as another tear glides down his cheek. "Okay." I whisper and look away, fearing that I will break down as well. I clear my throat and attempt to change the subject. "So where are we going?" I ask. "My house. Then yours. Then..... Away." He says. I look at him, questioning his intentions. "But what about our families?"

"If they're alive, they'll come with. If not..." I stop listening, my eyes becoming blurry with tears.

If.

My parents could be dead.... Or worse. UN-dead. I shudder just thinking about it and a tear slides down my face.

"Monroe-"

"I know. I hope they're alive too."

We pull into his driveway and park. "Stay behind me, okay?" He warns before hopping out of the truck. I open the door and follow him onto the front porch. Opening the door, we cautiously walk into the livingroom.

The sight is gruesome. Blood is spattered across the walls, trailing into the next room. One body lays cold on the floor with one bullet hole through the head. Her once white skinny jeans are now stained crimson. It's his sister. I watch him fall to his knees and sob uncontrollably. He drops his keys on the hardwood floor and covers his face with his hands. I stare at the lifeless body and walk into the room. "She's.... At peace." I say, glancing at Monroe. He nods, but shows no sign of stopping the tears.

I follow the trail into the kitchen. French doors lead out onto the patio. They stand wide open with a hand print on the trim. I look outside and gasp. "Um... Monroe, come here." I say, not taking my gaze away from the sight. He walks slowly into the kitchen and looks at me. "Please tell me it's not." I nod, frowning. He looks through the door at his mother on her knees over his father. She tears part of his stomach and bites into it. Blood covers her hands and mouth and she gurgles in satisfaction. Monroe's father stares into space. It is clear that all life has left his body.

Monroe's eyes widen and he backs away from the door. I close the door and lock it before his mom can see us. "They're... All dead. I am... I-" His breathing quickens and he runs his hands though his hair. "Monroe. Look at me." I demand, looking into his fear-stricken eyes. The heavy breathing continues as he tries to contain himself. "Look." I put my hands on his cheeks and stare at him. "I'm here. Focus. on. me." I say. He looks into my brown eyes and calms down only slightly. "What do I do now? Everything that has kept me going is..." his own sobbing interrupts him. "Is gone!" He finishes.

"We need to get food, water, and supplies and leave. Understand? I need you to be strong." I tell him. His tears drench my hands and run between my fingers. I wipe them away from his eyes. Nodding toward him, I motion for him to follow me upstairs to his room.

I grab a duffle bag and a backpack. "Get weapons." I toss him the empty backpack and he shakilly opens it. "O-okay..." He gulps. I trot downstairs and back into the kitchen. Opening cabnits, I toss canned foods and boxes into the duffle bag. When it is full, I run out to the truck and throw it into the cab. Returning to the house, I look through the pantry. "I'm going to need more bags." I say to myself.

Monroe zips his backpack up and walks into the kitchen. "Are you ready?" "I need more bags." I say, running upstairs to look for some. I find two more backpacks and a bright red duffle bag. "Yes." I smile, carrying them down to the kitchen pantry. "Help me please." I toss Monroe a bag and begin filling a backpack with cans and protien bars. "How do you have so much food here?" I ask, filling the duffle bag with water bottles and powerades. "My dad didn't like to go grocery shopping. So he bought our food in bulk." He says quietly.

I pick up the duffle bag and backpack. "Can you fill that with medical supplies?" I ask, walking out to the truck. He nods and walks into the bathroom. A few minutes later, he walks out to the truck where I'm waiting. "Ready?" I ask. "Give me a minute..." He looks at the house sadly as he closes the truck door. I watch as he just stares into the empty windows of his home. With a sigh, he buckles his seatbelt and tosses the backpack into my floorboard. "Okay. Let's go to your house." He frowns, taking in one last look.