Cultivator in a Zombie Apocalypse

Chapter Twenty Eight - The Heart of the Storm

Lightning arced through the steel covered sky, providing the only light now that the sun could no longer penetrate through the thick storm clouds.  Yet this illumination lasted less than a heartbeat and was soundly followed by deep rumbling thunder.  As there was no electricity, the men in the main house could only rely on a few candles and a battery powered torch to provide some meagre light.  Had the sun descended and set already, they would have simply retired to their beds.

The lightning and resultant thunder broke through the dark, silent sky once more, causing all but one of the men lazily sitting about the living room, to frown.  Seeing as the storm was fast gathering pace while approaching them, the wall building had become completely abandoned, while Dexter could only speed up his bath, rather than soak in the water heated by Ren Zexian for his use (after wiping away most of the impurities with a damp cloth. Once gathered and lounging upon the plush sofas and thick rugs, Paul dug out a few bags of snacks seeing as it wasn't safe to attempt to cook without light on the gas camp stove.  In addition, there was a bowl of sugar snap peas compliments of Nathan's most recent harvest.

"It's a bit eerie," Patrick said, nervously.  "Like the sun was extinguished."

"I was thinking that this would make a great opening scene of a horror movie," Harry mentioned aloud as he grabbed a few peas.  "You know, a storm, much like this one with forked lightning breaking across the sky.  And there's a mansion, about this size, but older and a bit run down.  Maybe there's a group of men..."

"Make it women," Tyler announced, crunching on a couple of pretzels.

"Whatever," Harry dismissed this suggestion as if it wasn't that important.  "So they're taking shelter from the storm because their car broke down.  They'd been travelling for a while and had no idea that the world had ended while they were on the road.  They gathered in a reception room, much like this one, but there are dust sheets covering the furnishings and cobwebs filling up almost every corner.  But they're not bothered about it, just glad to be wrapped up in a few old blankets and out of the rain.

"When all of a sudden, they hear a creaking noise, ending their laughter.  They whisper to each other; wasn't this place abandoned?  There were no lights in any of the windows, but could someone have actually been at home here?  One shouts out in greeting, but there's not response, so they reckon that it was a trick of the wind."

The cadence of his voice was almost mesmerising and once he paused to sip from a tumbler of water, the hesitation caused Patrick to breath of a question; "And then what?"

"And then they hear a small scratching upon the door outside and an almost inaudible groan.  They all glance out of the glass door, but it's too dark to see anything.  So one of them grabs the battery torch that had been placed at the centre of them, with a shaky hand and aims it towards the window.  Only to reveal the rotting flesh of a rabid, hungry zombie."

Tyler snorted loudly.  "We're living in an actual zombie apocalypse, it puts a dampener on horror stories don't you think?"

Just as these words slipped from his lips, a shriek outside caught their attention and had them all staring at the patio doors, eyes wide and hearts racing.  Well, almost all of them.  Ren Zexian rose to his feet without change of expression and made his way towards the doors.

"What are you doing?" Whispered Patrick, who'd been listening to Harry's tale with rapt attention, so much so that Dexter had stolen several tortilla chips from his bowl without him noticing, too lazy to get up to refill his own.

Paul gulped to moisten his suddenly dry throat and lifted the torch, aiming it at the patio doors, where two white figures stood and a hound darker than the pit of Tartarus breathed upon the glass.  The taller figure reaching for the handle of the door.