A/N: Sorry for the funky format. This refuses to cooperate.


The cool autumn breeze drifts through the trees on the decaying lawn of an unkept but otherwise sturdy house. It sits alone atop a hill. Paint is peeling from the walls - windows broken.

A boot snaps a twig - it echos through the barren land.

AIDEN (late 20's) stops and looks around, gun raised. He drops to the ground. His pale blue eyes roam the landscape, assessing any possible danger in the horizon.

Nothing. Yet. It's quiet.

SKYLAR (early 30's) appears from behind him. The men are filthy- their clothes haphazardly patched, and re-patched. They carry with them large camping backpacks. Skylar's long, mousy brown hair is tied back in a pony tail with a piece of string.

He motions towards the house, pulls out his own gun and walks forward. They cross the distance quickly, efficiently.

They stop outside the door. Aiden reaches over to the doorknob, turns it slowly. The door opens.

A look is exchanged. Determination, mostly, with a hint of something more. Worry.


Skylar goes in first, his gun leading the way. He tip toes around the upturned furniture. A hasty retreat. Or a struggle.

Aiden follows him in and walks to the kitchen, looking around corners cautiously. It's clear.

A shadow emerges from the end of the hall.

A noise. Growling.

Decomposing flesh catches Skylar's eyes. The MAN, or what was once a man, turns to face him. It runs. A hand reaches out - fingers so close to Skylar.

BANG! Clean head shot. The unfortunate reanimated corpse of the former home owner goes down with a thud. Aiden rushes over. Nothing else comes at them. They exhale a collective sigh. Skylar rests his head on Aiden's shoulder for a moment, relieved.

They set their packs down and continue to check the house but everything is clear. Instinctively, they walk over to the rotting corpse, pick him up, and chuck him outside.

Use the knife next time. Less noise.

Skylar shrugs his shoulders and looks around for pieces of anything to board up the windows.


Streaks of the setting sun can be seen through small cracks between the boards on the windows. Aiden rummages through the kitchen while Skylar unenthusiastically eats a can of beans by the stove.

It's probably been picked clean.

He opens a drawer. Something falls. He feels around for the object, fingers wrapping themselves around something plastic.

He pulls it out and holds it up to the dim light. Honey! Sweet, delicious honey. A mischievous smile curls onto Aiden's lips.


Skylar looks up. His eyes widen. He stands up and snatches it from Aiden's hands to look at the beautiful thing for himself.

Do you have any idea what we can
trade for this?

Aiden frowns. He reaches over to take it back but Skylar holds it away from him.

Or we keep it for ourselves.

He pulls Skylar's hair playfully. Skylar smiles and places it on the table. A somber expression replaces his smile.

We need bullets, not honey.

Pounding is heard on the window. They walk over and carefully peer outside. A few dozen remnants of men shamble around outside the house.

A head turns. Aiden shuts the blinds and walks back to the honey on the table. Skylar follows.

Assuming we can make it out of here.

Haven't you heard? It's our lucky
day! We found the only thing that
lasts forever.

Aiden pops open the jar and dips a finger into the honey. He walks over to Skylar and dabs it on his lips. He smiles. Aiden leans in.

Not the only thing.

Another bang. The wood creaks. They grab their guns.

Bang. Creak. Bang. SMASH!

An arm reaches through the hole in the boards. More break through. Skylar locks eyes with Aiden.

A quick kiss is all they have time for.