The Way the Cake Slices

She opened the fridge in a hurry. In the front was a slice of chocolate cake, but that was not why she was here. She reached out and snatched up all the waters, placing the bottles into her bag. The thought of grabbing some canned goods entered her mind, however; her bag was too heavy already. She headed for the basement door. Sliding a small rug to the side, she lifted the wooden door. Climbing down the stairs was a little treacherous considering the weight of the water she was carrying. She unloaded and headed back upstairs for the canned goods. She spent the whole afternoon in this loop: upstairs, downstairs, upstairs, downstairs. She wondered when he would be home.

He had left armed with a shotgun, not only to perform reconnaissance, but bring back anything they might need. She prayed he was safe. How did they ever get into this? It had happened so quickly. First the flu-like symptoms, then it was the beginning of mutations, and eventually the mother of all mutations. People became violent; very violent. That was just last week.

They lost mom and dad in the violence, who’d been at work when it hit. There weren’t any details; their parents just never came home. They lost their dog (a big, beautiful Rottweiler) to a poacher’s trap, all in the same day. It had spread so quickly. Now it was just the two of them trying to survive. They had decided to board themselves up in the basement, so they left the rest of the house and yard looking abandoned and worked quickly to transform the basement into a living space. They put out two camping cots, blankets, lanterns, candles. Now they needed food and water.

Their home was not in the city. They were on five acres off the beaten path, trees all around. Maybe it was enough to keep them safe, and having a well was a godsend. She sighed. The wooden door creaked as it was being opened. She sucked in her breath.

“Hi sis, it’s me.”

She relaxed. He put his stuff down then climbed up to pull the rug over the door as it closed. He updated her on all that he saw. It was all quiet. No people. No more bodies, they had all been eaten. No animals. It must’ve mutated and jumped species. All species? She shivered.

They put all the goods organized onto metal shelves he had brought down. Thankfully, the basement was wired for electricity, so they had a microwave. They also had the camping stove. They needed to keep stocking up on water and canned goods. They had no idea how long this would continue, so they were preparing for the worst. Days? Weeks? Years?

He checked the HVAC: airflow seemed good. They didn’t want to turn on the air conditioning or heater: their fear of making too much noise and being discovered was too real. So they just let the air flow through, providing them with the necessary oxygen to survive.

The sun was starting to set, so he had come home in time to put his stuff away, to be ready to sleep. They always slept at night to keep some feeling of normalcy. They slept in the dark, saving the candles and lanterns for when they really needed them.

They closed up, lying on their cots with blankets. It was kind of cold down there. She might need two blankets. They found it hard to fall asleep, so they stared at the ceiling. Would they survive?

It was so quiet you would expect to hear crickets. Suddenly, there was pounding on the door. BAM, BAM, BAM. They froze, their eyes locking onto each other in terror.