Dante’s hands hadn’t stopped shaking since he left the hospital. He tried to go back and find Robert but the guys with military guns convinced him not to. Plus, he made a promise to Benjamin and he couldn’t keep it if he ended up in jail.
As he walked up to the house he realized that he had no idea what to say to Benjamin’s daughter when she answered the door. He wiped his hands on his pants and reached for the door knob. After a few more deep breaths, he managed to raise his hand and knock on the door.
He waited, staring down at the welcome mat written in fancy cursive and contemplated turning and running away. He hated himself for thinking about it but he saw some shit in the last 48 hours that changed everything he knew about medicine and the human body.
Dead people were supposed to stay dead; end of story,was Dante’s philosophy. He never read into all the zombie outbreak theories but he really wouldn’t mind joining Billy Bob in his bunker and eating cold spaghettio’s until the adults took care of this one.
He was so preoccupied with what was going on that he didn’t think to check and see if a car was in the driveway. It wasn’t, so he pulled out Benjamin’s house key from his bag and opened the door.
“Lydia?” he called out.
Dante peeked around both corners and entered the house. The only sounds in the house were his footsteps. It felt weird to him, walking around Benjamin’s house without anyone being there or without Benjamin being alive. He walked into the living room and turned on the light that was sitting on a small end table.
His hand hit a picture that was next to the light and when he tried to grab it, it crashed to the floor face up. A crack ran diagonally across the picture, separating a blonde child with pigtails and round cheeks from her smiling father.
Dante quickly picked the picture up and set it back on the table, face down. Lydia came around the corner with her keys held tightly in her grasp, ready to swing. “Hey.” Dante said Lydia let out a sigh of relief and put her keys on the table, “Hey, what are you doing here? Is my Dad upstairs?” she asked walking over to the stairs.
“No he’s not upstairs?” Dante mumbled while avoiding Lydia’s eye line. Lydia took off her jacket, hung it up by the door and walked into the kitchen, “Is he eating up the tacos I made the other night?” she joked.
“No, he’s not in the kitchen either.” He said with a more serious tone. When she turned back around to face him her expression changed drastically. She ran into the living room and turned on the light.
Dante was stalling, he knew what he needed to say to her but he couldn’t bear to break the little girl’s heart in that photo with her Dad. She brushed past him and ran up the stairs yelling, “Dad, are you in the bathroom?”
Dante slowly followed her up the stairs and found her standing at the foot of her Dad’s bed. He stood in the doorway and waited for her to turn around. When she did he still couldn’t say it so Dante just said the first thing that came to his mind, “Lydia, I’m so sorry.”