Ann and John rushed into the house, trying to shut the door behind them as quietly as they could, Ann’s feet lifting up the dirt and dust from the bottom of the floor.
“Not bad,” John said.
“We should be able to find some nice things in here,” Ann replied.
“If someone else wasn’t here before us. The door was unlocked, remember?”
“Right.”
“Kitchen first? Or the bedrooms?” he asked.
“Kitchen. I’m starving.”
They walked throughout the house, trying to find the kitchen, only to stumble upon it at the farthest corner of the home.
“Start searching the cabinets,” said Ann, to a John who was already halfway through them.
“Just some beans and canned peaches.”
“Which one do you want?” she asked.
“Can we go halfsies?”
“No, you always jip me when we go halfsies.”
“Fine but I get the peaches,” John declared.
“You always get the good food.”
“Well maybe that’s because always find the good food. And you need the protein.”
“There was a time you would have given me to peaches,” Ann said.
“I’m sorry. Here, you can have them.”
“No. Let’s go halfsies.”
Ann pulled out her pocket knife and started going to town on the cold aluminum lid, hoping that it would break open. Eventually it did, and the two walked up the creaking and winding stairs into a more closed off room.
“I feel like we haven’t had fruit in forever,” John said. Ann nodded in agreement.
“This room?”
“Sure, it seems safe enough,” he said, putting his ear up to the edge of the door.
“John, if there was one in there it would be screaming and pounding by now.”
Ann turned the door knob.
“Seriously let’s just get on with it.”
She grabbed his hand and dragged him into the room with her, until they were hit by a brick wall of stink.
“Jesus Christ, what the h--- is that?”
“You and I both know what that is by now.”
John reached out and rubbed her shoulder, pulling her closer to him as they both peered around the corner to a king sized bed at the edge of the room, where a man, a woman and a child laid, dried blood painting each of their heads and the pillows around them. A rusted gun sat on the hardwood floor next to them. Ann collapsed into sobs.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“I know.”
“I just wish…”
“I know.” Her eyes were stuck on the boy. She continued, “How old?”
“Five or six.”
“How long?”
“Probably from the beginning, given the condition on their bodies.”
“Good.”
“Ann… It won’t always be like this,” John’s voice trailed off.
“Yes it will.”
“No it won’t. You heard the radio. We’re only fifty miles out from the zone.”
“It’s probably gone,” she said.
“Ann. It’s going to be okay. We’re all going to be okay,” he held her close and laid his hand on her stomach.
“I hope so,” she said.
And in the that, the dim room filled with light that peered through the dirty window.
“It’s all going to be okay,” he repeated.