Chapter 17

I'm staring at the map in the passenger seat as Jackson navigates our car through the debris littering the road.

"I can't make heads or tails of this crap. I've never used a map before." I sigh in frustration; seems like the only thing I've been doing lately.

Jackson laughs at my frustration and Mikayla stirs from her spot in the back but doesn't wake up.

"We are in northern Missouri right now. To get to Iowa we have about 2 hours left in the car so long as we don't run into any problems. We could probably go straight there tonight if you want. We have enough gas still."

I sit back, thinking about what he just said.

Two hours. Two hours and I could know what happened to my family.

"Let's do it." I nod to assure myself of my decision.

"Another thing to think about... Wyoming is supposedly a hot spot for safety because of the lack of people. We could always check that out later."

He says it hesitantly as if the thought maybe too much for me to handle right now.

"Yeah, that is something to keep in mind. It's hard to stay alive with psychos running amok and undead trekking around every city. Maybe there is still somewhere in North America that hasn't been touched. Not like we have anything else to do..." I ramble on, thinking about possibilities for the future.

Jackson looks over and smiles before shaking his head and returning his view to the desecrated road.

"We don't have to decide anything yet. It would just be good to think about our endgame. We need somewhere where it isn't nearly impossible to survive. Right now, let's focus on finding your family."

I nod, deep in thought, and give Jackson the address of my aunt's house and doze off for a bit. The exhaustion from our journey catching up with me at last. Before I know it someone is shaking my shoulder and I jolt up before realizing it's just Jackson.

"Hey sunshine, we're here."

He turns the car off and stuffs the map into the center console in case we need it later. I blink my eyes slowly, still sleepy after my cat nap. I look at the house, it's exactly as I remember. The little brick-red farmhouse has seen better days, but I still feel a rush of warmth and nostalgia flow through me just looking at it. I've missed this house.

Walking up to the front door, time slows down for me and all I can hear is the rapid, deafening beat of my heart. Each heartbeat racks my eardrums and the anxiety of what's beyond that door has me nauseous. Jackson and Mikayla are both behind me as we come up to the door. I stand in front of it for what feels like forever before I finally reach out and grasp the brass doorknob.

This is it. Breathe in... and out.

I turn the knob, but nothing happens. I try again but it just wiggles. I stand there, shocked because I didn't think it would be locked.

Mikayla puts her hand on my shoulder. "Let's check the backdoor."

I'm silent as we walk to the back of the house. The back door is locked too but Jackson manages to break the frame to get it open. We step inside and the house is dark, the sunset an hour ago and the moon is casting lazy shadows all around from the windows. The first thing I notice is an eerie vibe as we walk through the kitchen, listening for sounds of life, or death in the case of undead visitors.

I quietly move through the house, careful to not trip on anything until we know what we are dealing with. Walking up the stairs they creak and groan with the weight of our steps and we stop every few seconds to listen. After sweeping each room upstairs and finding no one we look all over downstairs too. The only place unchecked is the basement.

Standing in front of the basement door I hear a muffled scratching. I open the door slowly and the second my foot contacts the second step I hear an undead going ballistic. I trip trying to throw myself back through the basement door, right into Mikayla. She is scrambling just as quickly as I am, and I am panicking over the fact that our weapons are in the car since I truly expected to find my family.

After a minute with no undead racing up the stairs, we go down. It was pitch black, but Jackson managed to find a few emergency candles in the kitchen.

The basement floor is drenched with blood and odd little chunks of stuff. Bones are piled haphazardly in different spots all around. The whole room has a do-it-yourself butcher feel to it, complete with a bloody table and set of power tools pushed against one wall. In the corner, there is a chair with an undead bound to it using a rope. Jackson grabs a lamp from the entry table right beside the staircase and is about to put it to use when I yell for him to stop. I look at the undead closer. A lump appears in my throat as I catch a glimpse of the undead's face as it snarls at us and shakes the dining chair it's strapped to. Thick chunks of auburn hair are missing from the girl's scalp, her skull is clearly visible, and her wrists are worn to bones from the rope and decomposition but I would still recognize her anywhere.

It's my sister, Elizabeth.