Generation Dead - 07 by Joseph Talluto Page A

I made my way upstairs to check the bedrooms.  At the top of the stairs was the main bedroom, and it looked fairly normal, except for the dead woman lying in the bed.  She was kind of sprawled back, and I could see she had been shot in the head.  There was a little bit of black around her lips and teeth, and I began to understand what might have happened here.  This woman was probably the wife of the man downstairs, and when she got sick, she bit him.  He killed her, and then killed himself.  The question that popped into my mind was who sent us here to collect artifacts, then?
    Shrugging, I checked the other rooms quickly.  In one, I found another .22 rifle, this one was an old, beat up single shot, with bent sights and a rusty barrel.  Following a hunch, I took the beater downstairs and put it next to the nicer one. 
    The last place I checked was the pantry, and to my surprise, there was a flight of stairs tucked in the back.  The stairs were tall and narrow, and I was shocked to find myself in the attic when I reached the top.  Those must have been what were once referred to as servant’s stairs.  I had read about them when we were reading our history books.
    The attic was a pretty neat place, with four windows looking out towards each of the cardinal directions.  Out of the north, I could see our truck and the countryside we had come through.  On the east, I could make out the bridges of the interstate.  To the west was another farmhouse, and to the south I could see the silo, the barn, and Jake coming back to the house through the yard.
    I could also see two small zombies moving quickly through the grass, heading right for Jake.

 
    Chapter 21
     
    Shit! I pulled on the window, but the stupid thing had been nailed shut years ago.  Why the hell they would nail a window shut was completely beyond me.  I didn’t have time to play with it, so I just took the barrel of my rifle and ever so gently busted the glass on one of the panes.  I aimed quickly; lining up a shot where I thought the little bugger was going to be and waited for them to fill the sights.  It didn’t take long for the first one, and just as Jake was saying ‘Hey, Aaron!’ I let fly with a thirty-caliber bullet. 
    The sound was loud in the yard, and the little zombie’s head burst apart as the bullet killed it.  Jake, fully aware now, sprinted for the porch while I tried to get a bead on the second one.  That little sucker was proving hard to kill, since it darted around a small stone shed trying cut Jake off. Jake made it to the porch, then turned around and faced the yard, watching for any movement. 
    I sprinted down the stairs, which was pretty dangerous given how strangely they were constructed.  I actually had to jump the last four steps, landing hard in the pantry and slamming into the shelves.  I bounced off the shelves and damn near went down another flight of stairs that led to the basement.
    I raced for the back door, opening it just in time to see Jake fire once, sending a bullet through the neck of the charging zombie, putting it out of commission.
    “Nice shot, ” I said.
    “ Thanks, ” Jake replied.  “And thanks for the warning; those little suckers would have nailed me for sure if you hadn’t got the first one.”
    “No problem.  Think we might have stirred up any more?”  I scanned the tall grass for movement, but couldn’t see anything that I couldn’t pin on the wind.
    “Probably.   We’re going to have to move fast.  Did you find anything in the house?” Jake asked.
    “I did find two . 22s I didn’t know which one we were supposed to get.  I also found the books we were looking for. Did you find the roll-top desk?”  I secretly hoped he didn’t because with the zombie kids and the ghosts of the people who died here looking around at us, I was anxious to leave.
    “I did.  There’s a small apartment in the loft area of the barn, but we should be able to use the hay bale pulleys to get