Oh my god, these people were my friends and neighbors. I didn’t want to do it, but it’s not like I had a choice. God damn it. I should have been more careful, maybe they would have passed on by. The kids made too much noise. I guess it was bound to attract them. What a mess…
I thought I had already cleaned out the neighborhood. I guess I wasn’t as thorough as I thought. I must be a sight. I look down at the wreckage-strewn floor of what used to be my kitchen and catch a glimpse of myself in one of the larger shards of the broken wall mirror. Helen loved that mirror. 2 weeks ago, she would have been in tears over this. Now, I don’t think she’ll give a fuck. I am right though, about the way I look, covered in bits of Stan and what was left of his family. Why couldn’t they have just wandered on by?
I’m going to have to risk a trip out to the pump. I have to clean up. I can’t look like this in front of my family and I will need water to get all this… crap off the floors. And walls. And cupboards…
The radio crackles to life behind me. “Is there anyone there? Come in, please? Is anyone there?” the panicked voice says.
I walk over to the table, grab the mic and take a deep breath. It stinks in here. I stink, but then again, the whole world stinks now, “I read you.”
“Oh thank God, thank God. We tried to get out but they were everywhere…”
“It’s safe here. How many of you are there?”
“There are 4 of us…”
I get her story and give them directions. It will take them hours to get here on foot. I’ll have enough time to clean up and get things ready for them. They will be hungry again by then. A man has to feed his family, right? They’re always so hungry…