Dusk had arrived. The sun began to enter its slumber as the moon replaced it. The pine forest was one of the few places he hadn't seen them. The living dead.
On his back was a pack with some recently scavenged supplies, canned food, medicine and the like. He looked at his watch and read the time. "Quarter past six. Shit. I'm gonna be late.
" He muttered.
Several minutes had passed when he reached it, a small, pilgrim-styled cabin. The lights were still turned on.
He could see someone from one of the windows, it was Albert, cooking in the kitchen. He knocked on the door and it swiftly flung open.
Clara stood in the frame, with a worried look highlighting her wrinkles. "Ay, mi muchachito! What took you so long?" She asked in a thick Spanish accent.
"I found a place; had some of your nerve medicine." He took out a labeled pill bottle and handed it to her.
"Thank you so much, muchachito. It was hard enough to control my nerves before all this started." She hugged him, the old woman had become like a grandmother to him.
"Come inside, quick! Night is never safe!" She exclaimed.
"Don't worry, when have they ever shown up here?" He asked.
"It's not just them we have to worry about, Thomas. People can be much worse than those monsters." She tried to hide her distressed look by cracking a joke. "Haven't you seen the movies?"
Thomas laughed, but he knew she was right. He couldn't take any more risks. Clara put her leathery left hand on Thomas' back and ushered him in. "Dinner should be done in a few minutes.
I left you a surprise in your room, it's not much, but you deserve it, muchachito."
"Thank you, Clara. I really should be the one giving you gifts, you did take me in after all." Thomas responded.
"You're right" She pointed a finger gun at him, "Give me your wallet." She said humorously.
"I lost that a while ago," He pointed his own finger gun at her, "Give me your purse!"
"The good, the bad, now we just need to call the ugly over." Clara responded.
They laughed some more. Thomas headed to his bedroom, a small, spare room that Clara and Albert had used to house their in-laws.
A silver watch was laying ontop of his dresser, but he was too tired to take it.
Thomas threw himself unto the queen-sized bed, after hours of walking in the blazing heat, the soft mattress was a welcome delight. He laid there for a second, inhaling dust and unwinding.
Albert's shouting felt like a cold slap on the face.
"DINNER IS DONE! GET OVER HERE ALREADY!"
Thomas sat on the bed, rubbed his weary eyes, and walked to the kitchen. The wooden table was already set up, with a chair on each of its four sides.
Thomas sat down in the center, opposite of Albert who was sitting at the table's other center, and next to Clara who sat left of Albert.
A plate of avocado, pulled pork, and fried plantains sat on the table in front of Thomas. He started eating voraciously, unaware of Albert and Clara.
"Calm down before you choke."
"Leave the boy alone, Albert."
"Well, he's gonna choke!"
"Oh be quiet you crazy old man."
"Who you calling old, Clara?"
They acted angry at each other for a second and then smiled, Albert rested his hand on top of hers. Thomas pulled back from the food, for necessity to breathe rather than fullness.
His plate was already empty. After not eating for so long, such a small amount of food must have seemed massive to him.
"You see? You didn't even enjoy my cooking!" Exclaimed Albert.
"There's not much to enjoy there." Thomas let his thoughts slip, "Sorry. Your cooking is great."
"Don't worry about it, the only reason you eat my food is cause there's nothing else!" Albert let out a hearty laugh, as did Clara who started to snort like a pig. Thomas couldn't help but smile.
"You know-" Albert was about to continue, likely to start telling a story, when he was interrupted by a loud bang. A gunshot. They all stood from the table, the joy drained out of the moment.
Find the rest of the story here: https://www.wattpad.com/story/167803348-undead