Infection

Chapter 22 - Like Father, Like Daughter

I poked my head out from under the bed, cocking my head slightly to listen... Nothing. Had I finally managed to lose them? Shimmying out further I let my ginger hair escape confinement before stopping again to check... Silence. Deciding it was safe, I pulled myself completely out, stiffly rising to my feet. My legs didn't seem to have the same idea so I ended up awkwardly on the bed with a groan. I had barely escaped with my life! I had the bag of food to thank for that, but my body was now feeling the effects.

Attempting to rise again, I managed to stay standing, wincing as I stumbled to the blocked door. I put my ear to its surface, straining to listen for any sign of those things.

Today was my lucky day. Pulling the chair away from the handle, I slowly opened the door and looked out into the deserted hallway. The back of the door was well beaten, stricken with bloody scratches. I couldn't help but remember the many times I had found myself behind my bedroom door, hiding from my Dad.

Something's just never change.

Bringing my mind back to the present I cautiously made my way back through the house, checking the rooms as I went. I felt sad more than anything, looking at all these silent memories, frozen in time. Pushing the next door ajar, I immediately recoiled at the stench, holding my breath as I looked in.

Instantly I regretted it noticing the human remains strewn across the room, too far gone to be alive in any way. Gagging, I hastily shut the door, trying to get the ravaged room out my head. I felt like crying.

Composing myself I headed back down the blood stained stairs, making my way to the kitchen to find a drink. I tried the tap, but after several clunks I realized that I'd get nothing from it. So I took to rifling through the cupboards, finding nothing but a sealed bottle of wine. It was looking more and more appealing by the minute. After everything that has happened, all the death and pain and now this.

I took it down from the shelf, looking around the quiet room, almost expecting someone to come in and stop me. But of course I was alone, in a world that everything wanted to kill me. I popped the cork with skilled hands, the familiar smell of alcohol caressing my nose. All I could think about was that corpse up stairs, nothing but bits of meat chucked round a room. What if that was Seth, what if he was already dead and spread across a room somewhere, alone and too far gone to be recognized.

I lugged the bottle of wine to the living room, making myself at home on the sofa. Taking one last look at the bottle before raising it. "Cheers."