A Zomboid Story: S1.4

When the silence came, Harper could hardly believe it. She sat on the kitchen floor, the inner-most room, exhausted. After all the bloodshed, she’d immediately gotten to work. Tablecloths hung in the windows. All the wood tables and chairs lay dismantled in a pile. By now, the darkness of night settled outside, and barricading the windows would have to wait. For the first time in months, she sat completely alone. Dalton’s absence kept poking at her mind. He always appeared confident in the plans he proposed. Even when dashing off earlier, Harper didn’t sense any real fear in his voice. The thought of him not returning spooked her for a moment. She’d taken some support in having a partner in the dooms days. The world seemed terrifying to face alone. Harper distracted herself by sifting through the drawers and cabinets. A storage room sat off to the side, and deemed promising. She collected all the tools and equipment from the junk. Perishable food started to rot away, and she trashed anything inedible. Harper nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard footsteps upstairs. She stopped to listen. Too coordinated for a zombie. Still, she grabbed the nearest weapon and quietly shuffled towards the doorway. Comfort was a luxury Harper couldn’t afford. A sigh of relief came as Dalton came into view down the steps. 

“Whoa. You've been mighty busy,” Dalton said, surprised at all the chairs and tables missing. There was a short pause while Harper looked the man up and down.

“... I could say the same. Where the hell have you been?” His attire completely changed. He carried a weighty backpack on his back, and another in his hand. Dalton shrugged in response, dropping a bag.

“I ain’t really go far,” he started.

“There’s another exit up there. I cleared the area, and the neighboring buildings had some useful shit.” Instead of the mundane clothes Dalton previously wore, he had equipped himself with a thick jacket, tactical pants, and heavy duty boots. Gloves even covered his hands. Harper raised her eyebrows. 

“I don’t think anyone’s left alive here,” Dalton concluded grimly. Everywhere he’d gone, nothing but the undead and the eaten remained. 

“There’s some stuff that might fit you in here too,” he unzipped the bag on the floor. After placing a few guns on the counter, women’s clothes were unpacked. Dalton slung the bag off his back and began to empty it as well. Harper sifted through the items, finding a few clothes that would improve her defense. 

“We have to board up the outside tomorrow,” she replaced her jacket and draped a sturdy pair of pants over her arm. Dalton agreed while continuing to inventory his bounty. His presence meant she could finally get a little sleep. She curled up behind the counter and let the exhaustion take over.