October 8th

We're out.

We're free.

I never imagined it happening, and not the way it happened, either.

Also couldn't have imagined I'd be eating peaches again. Canned, but still. Fruit.

Last night was insane. Louise beat The Man to a bloody pulp, and we all thought He was dead. Dude looked dead, lying on the floor and all.

Then, a red-skinned creature with four arms (not two or three, but FOUR!) busted through the window, bars and all. If it hadn't been for that, we might not have escaped. I feel bad admitting that, because that thing killed Marc and Gabriella.

Anyway, Louise and I watched The Man stab the red creature over and over, like he thought he'd find a prize inside of it. I was glad He killed it, 'til I remembered we traded one evil thing for an even worse one.

Michael tried scrambling out the window, but the man stabbed him in the back. Both of them struggled on the ground, rolling around and cursing.

Michael grabbed The Man in a hold and told me and Louise to GO! We were stupefied and stood there like morons. When he yelled at us to go again, we did. I climbed out the window first, and Louise came after. We waited for Michael, but when we heard a scream, Louise wanted to leave. It was obvious she didn't want Him to pop out of the window next. I was crying, told her we had to wait. She dragged me away until I was aware enough to run.

My first impulse upon feeling real ground underneath my feet was to bend down and kiss it. And I did. It was stupid, and a waste of time, but I did it anyway.

So many people I loved had died, and I barely had anything to live for. At the moment of my emancipation, I enjoyed the sweet night air. For too long, stale breath and shit-smeared corners had polluted my nose-way. No more.

Louise pulled at me to keep going. Somehow, Michael's instructions had stayed with us, and we ran to the front of the Man's house, heading north. We hadn't cleared the front lawn before comin' upon The Man's garden. It wasn't a real garden. It was a  trophy space, or like a display case, like for weirdos who collect butterflies on pins. Bodies of creatures were spawled across the lawn, suspended  through the middle on a giant skewer. It was a menagerie of weird and terrible things I had no names for.

We passed by two creatures that had more in common with slugs. Huge slugs. The kind of toy slug that came out of the package one inch long, but when you put it in a bottle of water, it grew to fill up the bottle, straining at the sides. However, these were nine feet long, maybe ten. Their slimy gray skin featured teeth all along their bellies. They must of smelled us, 'cause when we dashed by, they began squirming and mewling.

"Holy shit!"

Louise didn't seem to care I had cursed aloud and neither did I. Those ugly suckers and the moment of our lives they'd inhabited deserved a "holy shit," if not more.

Despite the brick of fear in my stomach, I went on running with Louise. Staying Outside wasn't an option. It was like a nightmare come true. The moon beamed overhead, but obscured, looking like a lunar eclipse with a red film as its cover. Black clouds floated in the dark sky. No flowers or trees were in bloom, and there were no animals. No live ones.

Animal and human remains lined the roadside. Not as many as there might've been elsewhere. I could only imagine what the streets in the big city looked like. Walking along the road, I mentally ran over Michael's detailed instructions. I was sure Louise was doing the same thing:

"After you clear the front yard, keep heading north, or straight. For about a mile, there's nothing but field after field. Follow the fence next to the road and eventually you'll see trees. That means you're close. As the trees become denser, you'll come to a mailbox. There's a brick road beside that. Follow the road and there'll be a gray stone wall. Beyond the iron gates, there's a house. The people inside may be alive. If the house is empty, that's even better because it's hidden. We can camp out there for a few days 'til we figure out something more permanent."

~*~

The walls Michael mentioned were high. Without the maintenance shed near it, we would have never gotten inside. We used an extendable ladder to climb over the stone wall, going back for it once we figured out how to open the wrought-iron gates.

From inside the wall, the house was still a quarter of a mile away. It sat on a hill, really more of an estate than a house. Big blue shutters gave the house a New England feel. Flower beds lined the walkway leading to the front door, but they were all withered to hell. Overall, it was a beautiful house. Yet, in the red-hued night we came upon it, the house appeared sinister. My imagination was going overtime, and I could see people watching us from the shadows of the windows as we approached.

Getting inside was tricky, because we didn't know if the house was empty or not. There were no lights on, and it looked deserted. We knocked to be sure. After waiting five minutes and getting no response, we decided it was time to find a way in.

Louise and I tried the front door and windows, but they were locked. We would have broken a window to get inside, but then our safe haven wouldn't have been as safe, would it? Nothing came up when we looked under the mat for a spare key.

"Let's try the back door," I suggested.

By then, the chill of Outside was getting to us. Our clothes were thin and full of holes, not ready to withstand nightly adventures. The Man had fed us (barely), but He had kept us in the same clothes we had arrived in.

Around back, there was a deck that opened up to the second story, with a pool on the ground level. As we suspected, the French doors by the pool were also locked. We climbed the stairs.

The second deck was our last chance for an open door, but it was locked too. Whoever the owners were, they had locked the house up good and tight. I was shivering, running my hands up and down my arms.

"What are we going to do?"

But Louise didn't answer me. She was staring out over the balcony, or, I thought that's what she was doing.

"Those flowers, they're in bloom."

"What flowers?" And why does that matter, I wanted to add.

"Right there." Louise pointed at a pot of daisies perched on a corner post of the deck.

"Yeah, they're pretty but----". Her raised eyebrows helped me see her point. "---but, they shouldn't be blooming. Everything else is dead!"

She reached out to feel the flower petals. "They're fake."

When she picked up the vase, there was still no key. Our hopes dashed again, we sighed together. As an afterthought, she glanced under the pot, and bam! There was a key taped to the bottom of it.

"Oh thank God," Louise breathed out.

We had found our way in.

~*~