*unedited*

"Mom?"

Sharon jumped and spun in the direction of the voice. "Don't do that! You scared me," she said, bringing her hand to her chest. "Where's Ben?"

"He's coming. He's just washing up. What's going on?"

"Zombies. I need you to check out the front door and see what we're dealing with."

"I'll go," Karl offered.

She didn't quite trust Karl enough to let him wander through her house, even though her body seemed to. "I need you to stay here in case they break down the door."

Heather took off to the front of the house and then came back a few minutes later, her eyes full of fear. "You need to see this!"

When she took a step towards her daughter, so did he. She held up her hand, palm out. "I'll go. You watch this door. Heather, go get Ben and bring him down."

"Call me if you need me."

There was nothing she wanted to do more than scream in that moment. They were in this predicament because she chose to go all the way to the school. And she let Karl follow her back to the house. When was she going to learn to take every precaution to avoid mess ups like this?

Once she got to the front of the house, she peeked out the curtain and saw a dark figure across the street, all dressed in black with what looked like guts hanging around his neck. More zombies were converging on their location, but seemed to be avoiding that person all together. Did they have like a magic potion or something?

The street was full of the creatures. They had to get out before it got any worse. She didn't want to have to leave the house with how sick her son was, and they didn't have a vehicle to drive yet. She hadn't been lucky enough to find any keys to the vehicles on the street. And her husband took her car, leaving them stranded so to speak.

Sharon rushed back to the kitchen. "We need to go. Now!" she said in a rush. "Hundreds are out front."

Heather came into the kitchen carrying a very weak Ben. "What are we going to do?"

Karl took a look at her and then at her son. "What's wrong with him?"

"Flu."

"No bite?"

"No. Just the flu."

"Do you have a car?"

"No. You?"

"I do, but it's a block away."

Sharon wanted to kick the cabinet door and scream, her heart racing. She had tried so hard to keep things safe for her little family and now it was all falling apart. There was no way they could carry Ben a block.

"There are only 10 in the back yard," Karl said. "If we go now we should make it."

"He can't run," she said, gesturing towards Ben.

"Give him to me. I'll carry him."

She stared at the handsome stranger and then back at her son. Trusting a stranger never came easy for her, especially not now. He's the one that brought all the attention back to their house. Maybe he was in cahoots with that mysterious person from across the street. It was odd that she had no trouble at the school until she ran into him. Could he have opened the door?

She studied him via a side glance and just couldn't picture him being that cruel. There was something in his eyes that told her he was a good guy. She wasn't sure whether it was the vibe he gave off or what, but she knew it in her gut that he really wanted to help. People would tell her not to trust anyone and that's how she's made it through this far, but now she had to, for her son's sake.

Heather tightened her arms around her brother and stared at Karl suspiciously. "I think I can carry my brother just fine."

"Darling, I need your sharp shooting if we're going to get out the back," Sharon said.

Reluctantly her daughter handed Ben to Karl. "If you get him hurt, I'll come for you."

"I'll keep him safe. I promise!" he said, crossing his finger over his heart.

That made Sharon smile and eased her concern a little. He obviously knew how to handle kids. Did he have any of his own? She couldn't see a ring on his finger, so she highly doubted it; but, then again, rings didn't mean much these days.

Balancing Ben on his hip, he pulled out his katana and said, "Let's do this!"

Yep, he definitely knew what to do with a kid, not that he had much of a hip to balance him on like she did. Sharon glanced down at her body, her stomach still bore her kid pouch and her hips, well, people didn't call them thunder thighs for nothing. But a few more years living like this and she'd have a perfectly trim body.

"On the count of three, I'm going to open the door," Sharon said. "Karl stay behind it until we clear the way."

Putting her hand on the handle, she proceeded to count with her heart racing. Her daughter raised the crossbow ready to strike the first undead creature. Karl snuggled Ben close to him. Her son wrapped his arms around him. He was a little small for his age, but he was a preemie, so would likely always be a little behind. Her miracle baby.

"Three!" she said, opening the door. Her daughter let an arrow fly, hitting the first in the eye.

Karl let out a quiet whistle. "Damn girl, you're a good shot!"

"Language!" Sharon said, giving him the evil eye as she rammed her crowbar into the head of another. One by one, they took out the zombies in the backyard, leaving a pile of them near the door. Quickly they rushed down the stairs and towards the back alley. She never liked the alley because she never failed to run into one or two unsavory people.

As they were moving towards the gate, heather shrieked from behind her. Sharon turned around. A zombie had grabbed her daughter's backpack and she lost her balance, falling on her butt.

"Heather!" she cried, tackling the creature and knocking him away from her daughter. Her crowbar flew a few feet away in the process. Sharon screamed as his teeth snapped an inch from her face. Her forearm was under his chin, trying to push him away.

"Mommy!" Ben cried, as he struggled to get away from Karl.

Other zombies were coming around the corner and she knew that if they didn't leave now, they wouldn't make it. "Karl, get the kids out of here," she said, trying to push the male creature off of her, but he was too strong. Tears pricked her eyes as she glanced at her kids, their faces full of fear for her.

"Heather, take your brother," Karl ordered, putting her son down. There was a determined look in his eye. A fire that said he wasn't ready to let her go just yet. Marching over, he grabbed the man by the scruff of his collar and tossed him to the side, then jabbed the knife through its eye, liquid squirted up, catching him in the face.

After he was done, he took her by the hand and hauled her up to her feet. "Let's go."