Free Rooms

I think I should start this off with the topic of zombies. Zombies have always been a popular star in science fiction, resulting in a lot of what society used to class as ‘nerds’ having extensive knowledge on the subject and were often ridiculed for this. However, these very ‘nerds’ had the last laugh when they finally got to bash in the heads of those arrogant bullies. Of course, they didn’t just bash their heads in for satisfaction, (although I’m sure that was a large factor) but because they had unfortunately turned into zombies. Well, most of them had, the others just had it coming. The zombie breakout was fast and as all other zombie related things, the only way to stop them, as any zombie fanatic could have told you, is to “blast their brains out.”

Not all survivors were experts in zombies though. Many people with military backgrounds and a few of those lucky bastards with access to guns were also those to live past the first few months. Children were also a popular survivor as when most people felt perfectly fine killing rival adults, they found it somewhat difficult to kill those of the young, often feeling guilty after, unlike when killing their parents. You see, orphans have a notorious habit of surviving even the worst situations, which in our case, is the zombie apocalypse. Some, if lucky (and ridiculously adorable), could easily integrate into a new ‘family’ if the people they wandered upon contained any human decency. Others remained alive by stealing and the ability to get through the smallest and most ingenious escape roots. In the worst case children were, and still are, taken by bandits and sold.

Emma was lucky, but not lucky enough that she had a family. She was 6 when the breakout began and 9 years later was a tired 15 year old looking for a place to sleep. The early January days were getting colder by the minute and she could barely stand after her long walk from the closest town, 140 miles away. She hadn’t slept in a good 40 hours and the fatigue was getting to her. It didn’t help that she walked right passed a zombie nest, resulting in a lot of running and zombie slaying.

It was during these first few minutes of consciousness that she managed to focus on the words ‘FREE ROOMS’ spray painted on the wall of the building to the left of her. Her sleep riddled brain didn’t bother to wonder what kind of people would offer such service, nor how much it would cost her. All she could do was think of a warm place to sleep without the possibility of zombies expectantly gnawing her face off without warning first. Five paces from the door she was overcome by that sudden rush of clarity people get when they’ve been up for too long, normally resulting in some illegal act that sounded perfectly sane at the time. She straightened her back, took long strides and opened the door easily (thank God it wasn’t locked). An elderly man sat behind a desk and peered above his glasses before Emma’s sudden exclaim of ‘Rooms!? Free!?’ before she promptly fainted.

2: Warm Beds
Warm Beds

Richard was old. Not the ‘I’m so unhip I must be old’ kind of old. The ‘Looks like I need a new hip!’ kind of old. This did two different things for his reputation. On the one hand he was seen as wise for all his years on the earth. However, on the other hand he was seen as weak, making people reluctant to travel with him as they just considered him dead weight. No amount of wisdom could save you when a group of zombies were attacking. At least, that’s what foolish people thought.

Richard was, in fact, weak and had surprisingly lived to an age of 64, which was impressive given all the zombies that were around. Which is why he was so pissed that some girl had to faint right in the doorway. She could have had the decency to do so a few feet in so he could at least close the door without having to move her. However, it couldn’t be helped.

He placed his glasses down on his work and let out a long sigh. Work could wait a little while so he could move her to a more appropriate place. Approaching with caution, as for all he knew this was a trap and he’d rather not have to kill anyone right now; or ever for that matter.

The girl lay still on the floor, her breathing hard and shallow. She was small for her age and undernourished judging by her small frame and pale face, surrounded by matted amber locks. The fact that she was so small made it so much easier for her to carry to one of the vacant rooms in the back of the building. After that was done he moved her bags to his desk and continued with his work. The sun was just reaching its peak and he wanted to be sure of the formula before Grey came home. She was bound to be cranky after her travels but what he had found would be sure to enlighten her spirits. A small smiled formed on his lips. After working for ten years of nonstop work, through failure after failure, it appeared that the answer they were looking for was finally in their grasp.

***

She was warm and comfortable, which was simply bliss. It wasn’t till a few seconds of cuddling down in the warmth that she realised that she was warm and comfortable. Warm and comfortable. Her breathing slowed almost to a stop and she strained her ears for a sound that would indicate her of company. After minutes deprived of all sound she concluded that she was the only one in the room, opening her eyes to reveal the blank wall before her. Her movements were slow and calculated as she sat up on the…bed? Ok, she was on a bed. Well that was…wonderfully unexpected. Well, that ruled bandits out.

Emma scanned the room for some hint of where she was while she thought back to the event before she had passed out. At least the throbbing in her head made her think she had passed out. As she looked out of the window at the fading light of the days end, she remembered somewhat cloudily at the events that took place. She remembered a lot of walking, stopping for meals that didn’t last long enough and…the building. The building with the words ‘free rooms’.

“Oh God!” she groaned, hands rubbing her face in an attempt to rub away sleep. ‘Free rooms’ probably meant they were vacant, not that she could use them without payment. She didn’t know how long she’d been out, but she suspected she couldn’t pay for it. The best logical course of action was to leave through the window. That should be easy enough, she was on the ground floor so it’s not like she had far to fall.          

She moved out of the bed and tested the window. It opened easy enough, too easy, which just made her sceptical. Something was either wrong or would be soon. It was when she was looking for her bags when she realised the problem. Her bag wasn’t in the room. Perfect. Wasn’t this just peachy. On the bright side, she told herself, at least she had shoes.

She tried to control her anger, resulting in little circular jumps and quiet swears. If she wanted to get out of her without any problems, she’d have to appear confident. With a deep breath she put her hand to the door handle and exited the room.