Chapter 3

There were far more zombies wandering the upscale subdivision than there were four days ago.

I picked off six stragglers on the perimeter with my crossbow. The upgraded bolts punched straight through their eye sockets, dropping them to the pavement with heavy thuds. I was just clearing the third row of houses when a familiar voice called out from behind me.

"Vic!"

My mom stood on the front porch of one of the McMansions, white-knuckling a crowbar. Her face was gaunt, with heavy, dark bags under her eyes. My dad peeked out from behind her, gripping a kitchen knife.

"I'm just here to clear out the dead," I said, slinging the crossbow back over my shoulder. "If I leave this sector unchecked, they'll eventually threaten the pump station."

"Clear out the dead?" Damian stepped out the front door. His cheekbones jutted out sharply, and his eyes gleamed with a manic intensity—the look of a cornered animal. His gaze was nailed to the ring on my right index finger. "You just came here to gloat."

I ignored him and turned to head toward the next house.

"Hold it." Damian jogged to catch up, cutting me off and blocking my path. "I didn't get a good look at it on the video call. Let me see the ring."

I raised my right hand, putting the ring right in his face. In the daylight, the smoldering dark fire deep within the obsidian was crystal clear, swirling at a glacial pace.

His Adam's apple bobbed. "Give it back."

"Give it back? You bought this cheap prop for ten bucks, and suddenly it's yours?"

"It belongs to me!" He lunged for my right hand, his fingers clamping down on my wrist so hard his knuckles turned white. "You knew from the very beginning! You played me! You sat there and watched me hand it over, acting like an idiot while—"

I punched him square in the face.

There was a sickening crunch as his nose broke, and the back of his head slammed against the brick siding of the house. I drove a second punch deep into his gut. He doubled over, his grip on my wrist instantly failing. I pulled my third punch. He slid down the wall and curled into a ball in the corner, blood from his nose dripping onto the concrete driveway.

My mom rushed forward and grabbed my arm. "That's enough, Vic! He's family—"

Damian scrambled up from the ground. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and his eyes were completely unhinged. He didn't even look at our mom; his gaze remained dead-locked on the ring on my right hand. Then, he laughed. His teeth were stained red, his lips peeling back into a twisted, grotesque grin.

"Family? Fine. The three of you can play happy family." He leaned against the wall to steady himself, swaying slightly. "Mom, didn't you always say Vic was a worthless loser? Well, he's a big shot now, so go live with him. Dad, you think I'm a disappointment compared to him? Go live with him too. Both of you, go."

He stumbled backward. My mom froze in place, her hand still reaching out toward him. All the color drained from my dad's face.

Damian backed up to the corner of the street and paused. His eyes locked onto my right hand one last time before shifting to our mom.

"You're going to regret this. When I come back, don't come begging me to let you in."

He turned and sprinted down the alleyway. His footsteps grew fainter and fainter until they were completely swallowed by the guttural snarls of the undead.

My mom stood rooted to the spot, her arm slowly dropping to her side. Her lips trembled as if she wanted to say something, but I cut her off.

"There's a utility shed a few blocks over. The doors and windows are still intact. You can hole up there for now. As for food, you're on your own."

"Vic—" my mom's voice cracked, thick with emotion.

"There's no extra room at the pump station. And I don't have room for you, either."

My dad wrapped an arm around my mom's shoulders, and the two of them slowly shuffled off in the direction of the shed. His back was heavily hunched, looking like an old tree bent and broken by the wind.

I didn't stick around to watch them leave. I just turned and went back to clearing the dead from the next house.