Free Wormwood Dawn (Episode I) by Edward Crae

secluded neighborhoods and lonely houses were. Old State Route 37 went right through the state forest, and the road itself was twisting and hilly as it snaked through. Gary Holmes lived in the first house on the right, about a half mile from the creek. He owned ten acres on either side of the road, with his personal gun range and stables on the left.
    Dan slowed the truck, peering into the dark shroud of trees. There weren’t any lights on in the house; not even the usual path lights out in the yard. He wondered if this stretch of road still had power. He noticed there was no smoke coming from the chimney.
    “Gary would definitely have canned food and ammo,” he said. “Maybe even some solar equipment.”
    “Do you even know how to hook up solar shit?”
    Dan grinned. “No fucking clue,” he said. “But we got Google; for a little while anyway.”
    He pulled the truck into Gary’s driveway. There was a bridge here also; one that was in much better shape than the one at Dennis’ house. The house was much nicer, too; newer, cleaner, and more like Dan’s style. It was stone and wooden beams, as opposed to the shitty aluminum siding his own house had. Even the chimney was nice and stylish.
    “Have you ever been here?” Drew asked.
    “Couple times,” Dan replied. “Gary has cookouts and shit.”
    Dan put the truck in park and shut off the engine. They sat watching the house for a moment, listening for any signs of life—or whatever you would call it. The place seemed deserted, as most of the road did, and it was dark as hell.
    “Does he have horses in those stables?” Drew asked.
    “A couple. I don’t think we need horses, though. They would be way too hard to keep up.”
    “They would be good for traveling around in the dark,” Drew said. “But you’re right. They eat a lot of food.”
    They approached the house cautiously, keeping their eyes peeled. There were still no visible lights, or any movement that would indicate anyone was here, but they were taking no chances. For all they knew, Gary and his wife were stumbling around in the dark, just waiting for someone to eat.
    “I wonder if the loonies attack each other,” Dan mused.
    “I wouldn’t think so,” Drew said. “The ones in the basement weren’t going after each other; just the one on the floor.”
    Dan wondered why, but didn’t say anything. His focus was on the front door. It was closed, and the porch light was busted. There was even a small crack in one of the glass squares that made up the top half of the heavy wooden door. Just one.
    They stepped onto the porch, and Dan peered inside the window. He could see the moonlight coming through the kitchen windows, and the faint glow of a nightlight somewhere inside. Still, no movement or signs of life. He looked at Drew, and then reached out for the handle.
    It was locked.
    “Shit,” he said.
    “I’m sure no one would mind if we broke in,” Drew said.
    “What if we break the glass and wake them up? They may just be asleep.”
    Drew looked at his watch. “It’s only eight twenty-two,” he said.
    Dan shrugged. He put his back against the door, poised to bash in a square of glass nearest to the door handle. Drew reached out and pushed the doorbell.
    “Jesus, man,” Dan said, turning his head against the door to listen.
    “Housekeeping,” Drew said in a falsetto.
    Dan grinned. “I don’t hear anything,” he said, preparing to bash out the glass.
    Drew stepped back, and Dan forced his elbow back. The glass shattered with a minimal crash, and Dan reached in to find the lock. It clicked open with no problem.
    “Open it,” Dan said, standing in front of the door and pointing the shotgun toward it.
    Drew reached out, pausing for a moment before grabbing the handle. Dan’s heart thumped and he bounced a little in anticipation. Then, Drew quickly turned the handle and pushed the door open. Dan froze, gripping the shotgun nervously as he waited for a screaming horde to burst