Don't Look Back [KADIE]

[nathan lehmburg]

"Kadie. Get your shit and lets go." 

Those were the first words out of Nathan's mouth after his step father's limp body fell to the floor. Covered in blood from the waist up he looked like a mass murderer on a rampage. His body trembled as the adrenaline rush began to fade. He'd never killed anyone even if he'd thought about it more than he'd ever care to admit. Regardless, his step father was dead and so was his mother. That last fact hadn't quite struck him yet, probably never would if fear insisted on taking its place. 

Nathan stumbled forward in a daze as he stepped across his step dad's mangled body. He failed to notice the blood dripping from his mouth and eyes or the small chunks of his mother's dress hanging from his decomposing hands. He was far too focused on finding his sister who he knew was hiding somewhere in the house. 

"Kadie. Get your ass down here!"

Nathan rushed to his old bedroom and retrieved one of the tees he'd been too lazy to pack two years ago. His room was just like he left it. Dark and moody like the teenage boy he used to be. His mother had covered the linen on his bed with sheets and the room didn't have a speck of dust inside. His dark eyes took in the space like those of a stranger. This was his room but it hadn't been his home for a long time. He pried off the shirt and tossed it across the room; sliding another one on that wasn't caked with his father's blood.


He returned to the living room to find no Kadie in sight. Groaning loudly, he bolted up stairs taking the steps two at a time. When he found her he'd give her a piece of his mind. Why wasn't she coming out? That was his initial thought but as he got further into the house his stomach started to twist and churn. What if their father had gotten to her first?


What if...?


"Kadie?" He said, this time a bit weaker and uncertain. He'd never been extremely close with the girl but that didn't mean he wanted her dead. If she wasn't here...he didn't know what to do next. He had no plans, no unwritten agenda. He'd come to get his family and if Kadie was all that was left he'd do his best to protect her. Even if her hiding shit was starting to get on his damned nerves. 

Tag: @catherinekadie

[Deleted]

“I coulda done it… I coulda…”

Thin, dusty strips of light filtered through the shuttered panel wardrobe doors painting everything in dull off yellow stripes. Caught every bead of sweat, every glistening hint of tears on the lanky figure of the young woman crouched inside. She was temporarily safe.
“coulda saved them…”
Ten minutes ago, dad turned. That’s… that was the only way to put it. He just snapped, came home from the bar in a strange mood, locked himself in his room… no one questioned it, that was just dad, that was what he was like. Man WAS a dick! Until her step mom went to bring him some food…

Kadie wasn’t stupid, she’d kept up with the news, scoured the web and watch the thinning of her board herd, listened to fellow users on the chat as they typo-ed like hell (shaky fingers she guessed) about being evacuated to shelters one town over, about their friends parents going all cannibal on their friend, about people rushing off to backwater villages with relatives and their gun collections…
But… She didn’t know! It hadn’t hit home yet that, well, the outbreak had actually hit home…

Her own “survival kit” (something her stepmom had helped her fashion, far from the specialist, military standard gear she regularly advised in her articles and more of an olive branch of friendship than a practical goddamn zombie survival cache, but it would do!) was one quick blazing run down a corridor beset on all FUCKING sides with doors!
That route was already mentally mapped, a moment ago she’d been tempted, seeing it at the end of an almost convincingly clear path, burning a hole in the corner of her vision and the gun pressing up an obvious and tempting shape against the fabric, but common sense kept her rooted to the spot.

Adrenaline from the initial shock was wearing thin. A dull ache drummed through the string of tendons in her hands, knuckles white, complaining about her fingertips being wedged fiercely in between the slats of wood (No handle on the inside, she’d been holding it shut this whole time), her knees felt weak and threatened to buckle out from beneath and the last family meal they’d ever share( from yesterday) burned in a rancid lump in her throat. A moment ago she could hear nothing but one relentless monotone buzz rattling through her skull, but now normal service was resuming and she strained her ears against her own manic pulse.

“You coulda, you didn’t. Tha’s fine too… it’s done now…” Kadie mumbled shakily beneath her breath, shifting her weight from one foot to the other in agitation. Not being stupid was the key, panic could get you killed… talking in house full of zombies could too, but she was betting dad—no, IT was still distracted, in this case ‘panic’ was swifter and deadlier, “you just gotta get out… no need stay here,”

The adrenaline burst was short lived and fear was beginning to set loose, gnawing its spiny teeth hilt deep into her cerebral cortex, its effect was damn near paralysing. Reality returned like a bad case of vertigo. She hopped from foot to foot, swallowed compulsively, eyes glancing around wildly, glazed with pinprick tears, breaths falling short and worryingly shallow…
Shit!
Shitshitshitshitshit—FUCK! She was panicking about panicking and the more she thought about it the more she panicked!


“KADIE GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE!”

That voice… she eyes shot as wide as something you might see from the deep sea section of an aquarium…

“Nath…”

Shut up! Did the dickhead not see the full picture here?! He NEEDED to be QUIET!
Dying here wasn’t an option. Hidden between the old shirts, unloved suits in plastic wrap and loose shoes, you know, trivial shit that seemed even less important now. In fact they seemed ridiculous, almost mocking, Kadie could still clearly remember a row that broke out after she bumped her Pa’s arm and spilt a drink down that suit.
Imagine that… all that hatred over a stain. A stain!! Now he was…
Fuck… if she could take back every argument, row or small disagreement…

It didn’t matter now… Swallowing a dry wretch, jaw grit in determination, she shakily hauled herself to her feet. No, she was NOT losing another person tonight!
Gingerly, she pushed the door open, wincing as the hinges squeaked. For a moment the world froze. She stayed nailed to the spot… listening… listening… it was… quiet, no sudden sounds indicated anything had seen her move, but she’d HAVE to be more careful…

Wait! Her step mom left a hand mirror around here somewhere… that would be perfect for seeing around the corners or doorways… creeping out into the cold room, eyes peeled for dangers, on her toes in case a quick sprint was required she crept across to the bedside table and shakily retrieved the lovely, ornate thing (the woman had class, no arguing that!) slinking across the hallway, lurking by each door for just a few seconds, pressed up against the wall, angling the looking glass until she felt safe the room was clear.

Her room was in her grasp now. Or more importantly, her bag, her cache. It was a grubby old over the shoulder affair. Picked up from a thrift store (waitress wages paid for her room and not much else)and full of old plastic gems or glue spots from where they used to be, it looked like Prada for bums and she’d never been so happy to pick up that stinking thing!

She slung it over one bony shoulder with newfound enthusiasm and cracked open the window, swinging one leg out over the sill and using the frame for grip as she eased herself out onto the metal fire escape stairs below.

A cool breeze set every hair on end, but it was too late to go back for a jacket now, she had to keep moving forwards for fear of stopping altogether. Hugging her arms across her middle she crept downstairs to find her brother…

Unknowningly she’d already passed him. Poor bastard was on his way up.

A moment later she was cautiously testing the backdoor, employing her patented mirror technique with shaky hands, “Nath?” the kitchen sink whispered a few gurgles back, but asides that all was quiet throughout the house…

“Naaath” the tone was a little more urgent now, ducking low beneath the height of the counter tops and crossing the room as quickly as she could manage, making as little of a target of herself as possible. Finding her brother was a good focus, everything else in the house was suddenly an alien blur, nothing in here felt like home any more…

“Na—“

She suddenly stopped, dumbfounded, rising to her full height, limbs dropping like a puppet with it’s string cut, just staring at the living room doorway…

Dad…

Details of the figure crumpled on the rug were mercifully scarce, all she could see was the arch of his back, curled in a ball, a ruffle of thin mousy hair and blood. A LOT of blood. There was an odd smell in the air… something musty, coppery, sickly sweet… it coated her tongue like disease and swelled in her lungs.

“Daddy?” someone squeaked and it took a minute before she realized it was her… she didn’t even hear Nathan shout…

“Dad…?!” this time louder, a strangled noise desperately clawing its way out. She ambled over in a dreamlike trance, stopping over him.. no… not him it. It with its nose mashed into a pulp, with teeth hanging on strings from a cracked, gaping maw, like grotesque beads, IT with one milky glistening eye fixated in a furious death stare, the other punctured and shrivelled back in its socket… it with her stepmoms blood down its chest…

Shit… she NEEDED to find Nathan!

“NATH!” Kadie back peddled, starting into a run, “NATH!” she hollered , “YOUR MOM! SHE’S NOT TURNED! SHE’S GONNA TURN! NATH GET OUTTA THE HOUSE!”

[nathan lehmburg]

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