Writing Contest 2/RelicRaider

Jill sat at the table. Alone. Staring at the old grandfather clock ticking away loudly. It was a tired old thing, she had no idea why her mom bought it. It barely kept up with the modern clocks in the house. It just 'looked nice', and made the house seem 'more cosy'. She didn't exactly know how that worked, but it was enough for Jill's mom. It was weird. How this battered old clock was still going when most of the world had stopped dead in it's tracks. It reminded Jill of herself, just staying shut in her house, minding her own business. She hadn't had to deal with one of those out there yet, she thought before peering out of the kitchen window. One of them was on the front lawn. There wasn't much distance between it and the house. Maybe, if she was smart; and quiet, she could take it down.

Jill gazed for a minute at the dead one on her front lawn. It was a young girl. Was being the keyword in that sentence. She wore a tattered pink dress, with lots of once extravagant ribbons and bows all over it. Obviously she had been somewhere special when everything went down, as one does not wear such an excessive piece of clothing for just lounging around the house. Jill looked at her face. Her eyes were grey and sullen, with tiny pupils to amplify the fact that she was no longer human. Her cheeks were darkened, and her lips looked cracked and malnourished. Flies surrounded her, periodically landing before taking off again. Swarming her. That's when she realised, she was being watched.

She lifted her head slightly, and made direct eye contact with Jill. Jill's heartbeat raised, but she didn't move a muscle. The dead girl took a limp towards the house as Jill moved her hand slowly to the handle of the drawer that contained cutlery. The girl took another step before stopping. Jill could hear her moans from through the closed window. She fumbled around in the drawer before grabbing the handle of a large carving knife. The girl turned her head back around, looking out past the vast field that lay next to Jill's row of houses. Jill rested her hand, slowly putting the carving knife back in the drawer. The girl outside seemed mesmerised by something else. Perhaps someone else.

Jill thought carefully in her mind. At some point or another, she was going to have to learn to kill one of these things at some point; she didn't know how long this thing will last, and so she can't stay a hermit in her own house; especially if she wants to find mom and dad. But then again, she didn't want to put herself in unnecessary danger. What if it all went awry and left her unable to defend herself? She rested her head on her palm, sighing audibly, thinking about what to do. Her whole life, she had always been the cautious one, always the one to say no to something fun; always worrying that people would judge her. But the dead don't judge. She gripped the knife handle tightly. She had made up her mind.

Jill walked to the front door. She grabbed the handle tightly and pulled, slowly and quietly opening it. She felt a summer breeze, but an underlying stench that tainted what would once be normal. She put her fingers to her lips to whistle; something her grandmother taught her to do weeks before she passed away. It was her last memory of her. She blew loudly, alerting all the dead ones in a seemingly hundred metre radius. Jill panicked slightly, as she looked around at all of the heads turning and bodies slowly sauntering along to where she was. She closed her eyes tightly for a second. Jill was surprisingly good under pressure. She held the knife downwards before walking up to the dead girl with her arm raised, and plunging the knife straight into the top of her head.

She beamed as the dead girl dropped to the floor. Placing her foot on it's shoulders, she pulled on the knife as the army of the dead came plodding along towards her. At first, it refused to budge, but on a second tug she managed to get it out of her skull. Another dead one came nearby, ahead of the pack, but this one was much bigger than the young girl she had just slaughtered. Jill decided one was enough for her first journey and so ran back into the house, slamming the door shut and locking it up tightly with the spare keys that her parents never leant anyone. It was at moments like these when she wondered if they had planned for this, before shoving the silly thought straight out of her mind and resuming her position of watch by the window.

Jill wasn't worried about the large horde of about nine or ten dead ones by the door and even laughed as she saw one floundering on the floor after tripping over the tiny picket fence they had at the front of her lawn. After closer inspection she realised that it had it's ankle impaled on the small spikes, and after laughing harder, was certain that her parents had planned for this. Well, that her dad had anyway. Her mom thought the tiny fence at the front would be pointless and look silly, but Dad just said they looked nice, and made their house stand out more. Jill looked into the collection of dead ones, trying to pick out faces she knew, before realising she was in a surprisingly good mood, under the circumstances. Maybe that kill had put her mind at rest of the dangers; given her hope for the future. She thought she could take on anything, and, maybe she could. After all, she wouldn't know until she tried.