Free The Reanimates (Book 2): The Highway by J. Rudolph Page B

hardwood floors of an old, dark kitchen. We stayed close to the walls and found ourselves directed into a large living area where we met up with Tyreese. We tried to move as quietly as possible, stepping softly where ever we went. The occasional floor board betrayed our position when it squealed with protest of the weight we put on it as we crept along. I jumped over each sound, just knowing that at any second I could be face to face with the dead or a very angry homeowner. We walked through a long hallway. We peered into each room for signs of life or signs of the dead. I almost shot a coat stand with a hat. Room after room came up empty. We made sure that the front door was locked and went to tell everyone the coast was clear, but to use the back door only to help keep the entrances more secured.
    Lucas had double checked the surrounding area. "We'll have to look in the barn when we have more light." He seemed tense not knowing what could be lurking. I was too, but there is only so much that could be done. As long as our sleeping area was secure the rest would wait.
    "Alright, everyone, grab some bedding and take it inside." I called out. A collection of car doors being closed and soft chatter began. "There are a few bedrooms and an awesome fireplace in the living room. We can probably warm up some wash water, too." Some of the girls let out a slight whoop at that idea.
    In only a few moments, we had gathered wood from the woodpile near the back door, started a decent fire in a large stone fireplace, and we warmed up some cans of stew that were in the pantry. The bread in an oak bread box had turned into a science project gone bad. Some fruit had mostly rotted to nothing in the refrigerator.
    Once we were warm and full, we poked around our new hiding spot. It was a beautiful home decorated in an old Americana style. Trent's mom, Louise, would have loved it. Muted blue couches with a slight floral print set the perimeter of the living room. A faded beige and maroon oval braided rug covered the hardwood floor in front of the fireplace. On an oak mantle, framed photos sat importantly. The photo paper in the frames ranged from very recent to very old as did the styles of clothes the subjects of the photographs wore. The largest one was placed in the center and looked to be at least 60 years old. A young man and a young woman stood side by side, hands clasped and clearly in love. I stared at the photo and wondered if they lived here. I wondered if they were alive someplace hiding out, if they had died, or if they were among the many of the living impaired.
    I walked back into the kitchen, taking in the style now that I wasn't focusing on the task of feeding everyone. I loved the cupboards; whitewashed wood with glass panes showed the cream colored dishes. The stove was run by gas and looked as though it had been transposed from an episode of "Leave it to Beaver," as did the refrigerator.  A window hung right above a large metal sink and looked out on the large backyard. I watched as the dense snow fell. I could imagine the couple in the oldest picture standing side by side washing dishes together, one scrubbing, the other rinsing and drying, while they looked outside and watched the kids play.
    I walked along the hall, shining a flashlight into each room. The bathroom, the first door on the right, was my first room discovery. It had to be a woman that had put this room together, with the mixture of pink and off white tiles and fixtures. In the corner was an old claw foot tub that I looked at longingly. I missed bubble baths and I always wanted to take a bubble bath in a tub like this. I peeked into the medicine shelf and found a razor, shaving cream, 2 tooth brushes, toothpaste and an arthritis cream rub. The sink was pedestal style so there were no cupboards to rifle through there. In the soap rest was a dried out bar of soap, the edges were cracked and curling from lack of use. Porcelain knobs with an H and a C were part of a