Kyle was looking through the curtains out into the street when we came downstairs. Turning, he raised an eyebrow at the both of us, and I'm pretty sure my face turned purple. Just skipped red entirely.

I went to the table we'd eaten at last night.

When I think back on it now, it kind of makes me laugh that we ate at a table at all. We were just kind of holding on to an obsolete tradition.

I tilted my head at the apple and granola bar I found, sitting there like they were waiting for me. I guessed Shane wasn't the only one to notice that I hadn't eaten anything last night.

I grabbed the apple and bit into it, flinching at how loud the crunch was. Kyle looked over at me and put a finger to his lips, making me want to stick my tongue out at him.

We weren't even a week in and already we were so sensitized to loud noises. Anything that could draw attention was anathema to us.

That's one of the things that shocked me so much about your group.

Still does when I think about it. You guys are just so incredibly noisy.

You've gotten better, but not by much.

Still, that didn't stop me from eating the apple. I was starving, and all that first bite had done was make me even hungrier.

So I solved the problem by pocketing the granola bar and moving deeper into the house, going back to the stairs. Shane looked over and whispered, "What are you doing?"

Around a bite of the apple, I said, "I want to look for some stuff. Like hair ties. Or a belt."

Shane nodded and I went upstairs, rolling my eyes a little bit. We were stuck in this place for now. What else would I be doing?

Once I got to the top of the flight, I headed to the south side of the house. None of the doors were closed, and my heart squeezed as I passed two kids' rooms.

I stopped outside what looked like the parent's room. It looked like Kyle must have slept in there last night and I edged in, looking around at the light blue walls and dark wood furniture. I avoided the pictures on the dresser except to confirm that the woman who had lived here had long hair.

I headed into the bathroom. The windows were small so it was darker in here than any of the other rooms, but I was able to find a brand new pack of hair bands.

I took one before shoving the rest into my back pocket. I lost all of my hair bands in the normal world. How much worse would the post-apocalyptic world be?

The answer to that question is not as bad as you'd think. I usually just keep my hair up, so that means, I hardly ever misplace them. Who'd have figured, right?

I smiled when I found a brush, and starting to work through the tangles, turned to the mirror.

I stopped moving, blushing again at what I saw. My hair was a complete mess and... I leaned closer, squinting through the dull light.

Yup. My tank top clearly showed a light bruise on my collar bone.

Awesome. There's no way Kyle missed that.

I pulled the brush hurriedly through the rest of my hair before tying it up and sticking the brush in my other pocket.

That was it. I was done with tank tops for now.

Besides. It would be getting colder soon.

Looking at the pictures again I thought that the woman looked to be about my size. I started going through the dresser, laughing in disbelief and triumph when I found jeans that were exactly my size. I changed into them, giggling quietly with delight the whole time. What were the odds?

I couldn't remember the last time I 'd been so excited about finding a good pair of jeans. These felt and looked expensive and were fantastically comfortable.

I found a belt but still hadn't found another shirt. Most of this woman's clothes were business casual. Not exactly the best thing to be running around in. I dug into some of the lower drawers, finally coming across a plain olive green shirt.

It fit okay and I sighed, feeling like a new person in clean clothes. A door off to the side caught my attention then. Since I didn't have anything else to do, I decided it couldn't hurt to go through some of the closets and drawers. Seriously, you never know the random shit you'll find if you just take the time to look.

Really quick, Rule #11: Check first.

With whatever, but mostly doors. Don't just open doors at will.

I pushed the door open, then promptly had a heart attack when something came streaking out of the closet. I bit down on a scream, ending up with a weird, muffled yelp that was still way too loud.

I flailed backward only to get taken out at the knees by the bed. My heart was in my throat for a moment, but by the time Shane and Kyle got to me, I was laughing.

Shane cleared the room, gun in hand before looking at me. I covered another laugh with my hand and said, "Cat. There was a damn cat in the closet. It scared me."

Kyle shook his head in disgust before leaving the room. As he did, the hilarity of the moment dulled and I asked, "They didn't hear me, did they?"

Shane opened his mouth, then froze. We both did as a dull thump resounded through the house.

"No," I breathed, wide-eyed, staring at Shane. The next thumps seemed to contradict me.

Shane whirled around, hurrying back downstairs, hissing out a breath every time he put his weight on his left side. I shoved my feet into my boots and ran after him, horrified by what I'd done.

Kyle was standing with his back against the thin strip of wall that separated the two windows. It was barely wide enough to conceal him from the outside. He threw up a hand to stop us and we skidded to a halt, keeping us from stepping in front of the window. His face was pale, and he put a finger to his lips again. I wanted to gasp in horror when I saw the zombies in front of the windows, but didn't, scared I would draw their attention.

He signaled to Shane, a series of hand movements that meant nothing to me, but obviously meant something to Shane, since he nodded and grabbed my hand. "Step with me," he whispered in my ear.

I looked over at Kyle, who nodded at me, then moved with Shane. When we got around the staircase, Shane said, "Kyle says there are three on the porch and they're drawing more this way."

It felt like I was trying to breathe through Jell-o. Just too thick. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so surprised by a stupid cat."

Shane shook his head at my apology. He wasn't brushing me off. It was just another rule.

Rule #12: Sorry doesn't get it done.

When you screw up, don't apologize. Just do what you can to fix the problem you created.

Shane let out a small breath as the banging around the house got louder. I flinched when one of them smacked the glass, wanting to rush back into the front room. But I knew that would only put Kyle in more danger.

"How do we get Kyle out of there?" I whispered. He was trapped between the windows, not wanting to move because of the zombies just behind the glass.

The skin around Shane's eyes was tight, but that was the only thing that betrayed his worry. Otherwise, he was cool, calm and collected as always. You wouldn't think it was his brother currently in danger.

Shane said, "Wait here, just in case. You'll be able to help Kyle if those things come through the glass that way."

"What are you gonna do?" I hissed, grabbing the revolver he was now holding out to me.

"I'm just gonna take a look around. See what we have to work with," Shane said, slipping back toward the stairs, quiet as a, well, a cat, in spite of his limp. Yes, I realize that might be in poor taste, given what had caused this whole debacle.

I nodded, then tiptoed over to a south facing window. What I saw gave me a little bit of hope.

Then, it gave me one hell of a crazy idea.