Her family had to be going out of their minds. What if they-

'No!' she shouted in her head. They were fine. Nothing had happened to any of them so far, and it wasn't going to start now. Another bump against the bed made her start shaking again.

They were still in the room as if they could sense her but couldn't find her. Thank goodness for the well-built waterbed. Her parents used to have one very similar. She could remember lying on it as it rocked her to sleep.

Suddenly, the room lit up like the fourth of July and loud fireworks echoed through the tiny space. Sharon crossed her fingers, hoping that the few remaining stragglers would go off in search of the culprit. It would give her the time she needed to get out of the cubby hole.

Another set of blazing fireworks lit the room. Who could be doing that? Did someone see her go into the house? Did one of the men bring back reinforcements? Anxiety wrapped itself around her heart, squeezing it tight. Who ever was doing it was going to bring every zombie from miles around, so she didn't have much time to play with.

It didn't take long for another set to be fired off, but it seemed quieter this time, like it was further away. Wiggling forward slightly, she poked her head out of her hiding spot, just as far as it took to see down the side of the bed. The room appeared to be quiet now, however, Patrick's feet were sticking out by the end of the bed. She recognized his clunky work boots, like those in the Army would wear.

Remaining silent and watchful, she waited to see if any other sounds in the room would emerge. Happy with the silence, she shimmied her way out of the cubby hole and slowly brought her head up above the bed to look around.

Thank goodness. The room was empty for the most part, except for Patrick. He didn't appear to be moving yet, but she knew that she could only have a matter of minutes before he reanimated into one of the dead.

Walking over to the window, she glanced outside and saw a splatter of zombies on the ground below as though they tried to fly. Jake didn't appear to be among them. That meant he made it out.

A herd of the creatures could be seen a block down the road, moving away from the direction she had to go. A glimmer of hope sparked inside her. They might just make it out of this alive.

Turning her head to the left and then to the right, she worked out the kinks, as she made her way to the bedroom door, listening carefully. The house was as quiet as a tomb. One step at a time she walked down the hallway to the stairs, taking a moment to listen again. Satisfied that the way seemed clear, she descended to the main floor. The front door was half off it's hinges and splintered down the middle. Why had she ever thought in the past that houses were secure with four walls and a door? She had never invested in a security system thinking that a locked door was fine enough. Now she's seen enough broken down doors to remind her that nothing was ever as safe as you think.

A glance out the window revealed that the road in front was still clear. Only a glimmer of the evening sunset, with it's pink and red hues littered the horizon, providing just enough light to see her way home. Sharon rushed into the kitchen to grab a knife before leaving the building. 

Patting her front pocket, she was relieved to find that the keys were still safely tucked away inside. Not wasting another second,, she took off out of the house and down the road. She had to get back to her family before they thought she was dead.

She didn't let herself stop until she reached the house just before hers. Glancing around, hoping like heck that no one was watching her, she moved silently towards the back door. There were too many avenues for people to spy from the main road. And she knew that there was more than one group out there now, and none of them appeared friendly.

Reaching the back door, she automatically turned the handle, and gasped when it opened with ease. It should have been locked. Racing inside, she cried out for her family.

"Ben, Heather. Hello, is anyone here?"

"Mommy!" her son cried, racing through the open archway to the kitchen. She slipped her hands under his armpits and picked him up, holding him close, breathing in his sweet scent.

"It's alright, baby, I'm home." She kept holding him tight, thinking about how she almost didn't come home. She was never leaving them again. They were going to make it to her dad's farm if it was the last thing she did. There they could live happily ever after.

"Mommy, Heather's gone."

Sharon's heart stopped. "What? What do you mean?"

Carrying Ben, she moved into the living room where Karl was sleeping, like he had no care in the world. She placed Ben down, and then slugged Karl on the shoulder. "Wake up!"

"What? What? Is everything okay?"

"Where is Heather?"

Karl rubbed his eyes and then glanced around the room before looking back at her, full of alarm. "She was here when I tell asleep." He grimaced as he tried to sit up.

"Did she say anything?"

"She wanted to help you," Ben replied in a small voice, his chin wobbling. "Please don't be mad at me."

Sharon scooped her young son up in her arms, giving him a big hug. "Never," she said, giving him a kiss on his chubby cheek.

But now they had a new problem. They had the keys, but her daughter was gone.  And it filled her with a deep dark dread. She knew what was out there, the darkness that could steal you away from your loved ones. Darn it! She was supposed to stay home.

"Heather, where are you?" she whispered silently.