Capítulo 3: Chapter 3: What do you call them?

Avery and I watched the man who shot our mother from the shadows on our roof. He walked over to our mother's body and shoved her with his foot. Dead checking her, I assume. The man fist pumped in the air. Proud of his kill.

I won't lie. This one stings a little more. I guess because our dad wasn't ever around. Mom was. She worked mostly, but she still made it a point to do small things with us here and there. Movie nights on her nights off, out to eat, shopping. We didn't have a close relationship either, but it was better than the radio silence I got from my father.

"Are you okay?" I asked my brother. Not only did he have to see them both as zombies, but he also had to see them be killed once more.

Avery nodded his head, but I could see the tears welling up in his eyes. He wiped his face with his shirt sleeve and asked, "Should we say something? He might be able to help us."

I shrugged, "Let me get a good look at his face. Maybe I know him." I put my hand up to block the bright street light. I shook my head, "I don't know him. And I don't know that we should go with him. He might use us for bait judging by the way he enjoyed taking out our Mom-bie."

I think we'll be better off on our own for now. Perhaps we'll come across someone with a little more remorse for the dead. Avery and I watched as the man reversed and pulled out of our quiet little neighborhood.

"Since we now know our house is fiend-free, I think we can go back in. Gather up food, water, anything important." Avery nodded and stood, dusting off his backside. I did the same. And then we stepped back in the house through his window, one after the other.

I left Avery alone to pack anything he may deem a necessity and ventured into my parents room. Unlocking my dad's safe, I grabbed all the ammo and whatever important papers he had in there, along with some cash, and tossed it all onto their bed. We have hiking packs in the attic. Those would hold more than the average back pack.

I peeked my head into Avery's doorway, "I'm gonna go us into the attic and get our hiking packs. Are you okay?" His back was turned away from me. He was looking at our family photo he had framed on his desk. He didn't respond. "Take it," I told him, "It's important." He nodded, and I heard a small sniffle come from him.

Now's not the time to break, Celine I told myself. I pulled the string that opened up the attic to drop down the ladder. Hopefully it isn't too dark up here. I don't want to turn on any lights, just in case they attract the dead. Luckily, the street light is illuminating the attic just enough for me to see the hiking packs leaning against the wall only a few feet away from me. I hurried up and grabbed them and made my way back down the ladder.

I stuffed everything I took from my dad's safe into the pack and then went into my room. I packed two extra outfits, one light jacket, a few pairs of socks, underwear, and extra hair ties. I went over to my desk and grabbed the photo of me and Avery the day he was born. A tiny little thing, he was. I remember holding him and thinking, "This is my baby."

And he is. Always has been. I pulled the picture free from it's frame and put it in the front pocket of the pack. In my nightstand, I grabbed a pack of cigarettes. I'm not a heavy smoker. One pack will last me ages. But I could use one after the last couple of hours I've had. I stuffed the cigarettes and a lighter into the pack and moved on to the bathroom. I grabbed both mine and Avery's toothbrushes, toothpaste, a hair brush, and first aid kit and then I stuffed it all in the pack.

Avery stepped out into the hallway at the same time I did. "I grabbed your toothbrush."

"Thanks." It's like he's aged just over the last couple of hours. Gone is any humor and innocence he once possessed. I really hope this doesn't cause permanent damage.

"Let's head down into the kitchen to pack food and water. But quietly, just in case."

Avery nodded and we crept down the stairs. I peeked around the corner, checking if the coast was clear. It is. Nodding to Avery to follow me, we stepped into the kitchen. "No lights, just in case."

He nodded. I guess he learned his lesson on listening to me the first time then. "Non-perishables like canned goods. Anything that'll last outside of a fridge. If you grab anything processed, you'll have to eat it soon."

"I think there's a water filter thing in here from the hike we went on that time." Avery said, rummaging through the junk drawer.

"Actually, there's a lot of things here from that hike that dad got in case we got lost. Good thinking." I brushed by him, and scruffed his hair. Opening the storage closet, I reached up onto the top shelf and pulled down the box of survival things our father had bought. I bet he didn't bank on this shit being used for a zombie apocalypse.

I opened Avery's pack and put the box in there. "Alright," I said, dusting off my hands, "this should be good. If we steer clear from the undead, we'll stay alive. And staying away from the live ones will keep us from getting robbed."

I made a mental checklist of everything I wanted to make sure we packed, and checked it all off. Snatching mom's keys from the hook by the door, I took one last look around our house. Hopefully it'll still be intact when this is all over. If this ever does end. Maybe squatters won't trash the place.

"You ready?" I asked Avery. He looked at me, nodded, and said, "As I'll ever be."

Atta boy.

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