Stalkers by L J Hasbrouck

Author:L J Hasbrouck [Hasbrouck, L J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: new adult, NineStar Press, survival, island, Zombies, trans, Gay, post-apocalyptic, LGBT, Horror
ISBN: 9781949909838
Publisher: NineStar Press, LLC
Published: 2019-01-14T23:00:00+00:00

THEY TRUDGED ON past decaying farmhouses and barren fields, bogged down by their backpacks and steady snowfall. Once the sun started to set, they stopped in a small town called Kingston. A post office sat to the west and a bed and breakfast was two blocks east of a grocery store called “Grandpa’s.” The town was so sparse and quaint it seemed like Brian was in another time, a time before he’d existed. The thought of all the things that had happened before he’d entered the world made him feel insignificant.

“A bed and breakfast, huh?” Louis stared up at the compact two-story building, adjusting the backpack he wore and the second one he had at his feet. “Just what we need. Let’s see if we can find somethin’ to eat and a bed to sleep in.”

Louis approached the building and peered into the window past a crooked neon “OPEN” sign. Brian squeezed in next to him, inspecting the contents of the building. The interior resembled a small-town restaurant, though Brian could only see one table and four chairs set at it, one of which lay on its side. A sugar container had spilled across the table, knocked over in a struggle or by someone leaving in a hurry. Dead plants lined the wall beneath weathered picture frames. A ceiling fan collected dust, and a birdhouse with “Welcome” carved above it offered hospitality no longer available.

“They didn’t have time to board this place up.” Louis moved to the side of the building. “Easy access but not just for us. Let’s check the back.”

They moved to the rear of the faded brick building. One of the two windows above them had an AC unit wedged between crumbling bricks. A reassuring spray-painted message covered the door: “There are no ghosts in the land of the dead.”

Brian reached for the doorknob. “Probably locked, but here goes.”

He twisted. It swung open freely, surprising him. Louis aimed the Walther PPK while Brian stepped inside, his foot kicking something that clattered away.

Louis turned his flashlight on and pulled the door shut behind him. A metal lid settled on the floor by Brian’s foot as the flashlight highlighted glinting pots and pans and a three-compartment sink. The musty air smelled far more pleasant than most buildings they’d encountered.

Brian knew the routine: look first, scavenge later. But the prospect of finding food was mouthwatering. A warm meal and a bed, something he’d once taken for granted, were now the peak of luxury.

They explored in silence, peering into corners and crevices and underneath furniture. After they’d cleared the ground floor, they moved upstairs. The stairs creaked underneath their feet no matter how carefully they moved. Framed photos of rural landscapes and animals ascended the walls with them.

Two doorways sat at the top of the stairs, one open, one closed. A table placed between them was topped with a cracked vase enshrining desiccated flowers and a pillared candle that had melted over like the leaning tower of Pisa. Dust and cobwebs clung to everything.

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