As Brian and I board the windows, an electric lantern casts a gentle shadow against the wall.

“Hurry,” Brian says. “They’re coming!”

I hear a faint moan in the distant. We have a few more minutes before it gets here, I think to myself. As I finish one window Brian finishes his.

“Come on. Lets get the other room,” I say.

We go into the other room, a living room, I think I take one, as he takes the one next to me. As I finish my window, the one yet to be boarded across the room shatters. I turn around to see a decomposing hand reaching through the broken window. I quickly run and grab the shotgun from the other room, while Brian hastily boards his and my window. I run back to the living room and see it’s head coming through. I cock the shotgun, aim, and fire. I repeat, just to make sure. I nudge the rotting head back through the window and grab a board and some nails.

After I finish, Brian and I search the house. I take a shot gun and do a thorough sweep upstairs and Brian searches downstairs. I find a flashlight, some batteries, a .45 handgun, ammunition, some waterproof matches, a few bottles of water, and a bottle of pain relievers from the bedrooms and bathroom. I go down the stairs leading into the living room, and lay my findings on the table. Brian rounds the corner and scares me half to death.

“A little jumpy, eh?,” Brian chuckles. “There was one in the pantry. Dead though. Last owners must’ve locked it in there. I found three cans of peaches, a can of ravioli, and a can of chili in the pantry. They probably took the rest when they fled north. A few batteries in a bedroom and a generator in the garage. One of those old bicycle powered ones. I’m sure there’s more but that’s the bulk of it. You?”

I explain what I found as he lays the items he lays the food and batteries on the table. I retrieve the backpacks we brought and empty them. Total we have enough to last us two weeks, at most. We decide to sleep in the in the largest bedroom upstairs. I set traps in every doorway before we sleep. They’re set up so when something moves the string, it knocks a glass on the ground and shatters it, which will hopefully wake us up.

“Goodnight,” I say.

“Night”