"I am moving forward so I can see more of the driveway and front yard. I am going to tell her to get to the front door. Someone has to get the door unlocked and let her in." said Paige, picking up her rifle's ammunition as she moved forward.
"I will go down after Paige has moved, to open the front door. Please Mike, don't let them get her!" Dora called.
Mike grunted and shifted the rifle to hit another zombie coming up beside the terrified woman out in the street.
"Oh God! They are all around me!" Marge wailed, "Help! Help me Dora!"
Paige moved into position and yelled out, "Start coming towards the house. Dora is going to open the front door!"
Marge started that way, but had to dodge around, moving into open areas to stay out of the zombie's grasp. She ended up on the sidewalk across the street, in a fairly clear area. Dora realized it was now or never and she put the rifle down and ran towards the skylight on the back of the roof. "Mike, I left you the thirty aught six!"
Running down the back side Dora slipped on the damp shingles and almost toppled over, she caught herself, thankful she had opted to go barefoot instead of putting on the flip flops she had considered. She reached the top of the ladder and slid down it so fast it resembled a controlled fall more than climbing. Reaching the tile in the bathroom she headed through the master bedroom, pausing only to pick up the twelve gauge shot gun and two boxes of shells.
She made it to the front door, shotgun at the ready. Before opening it Dora tucked one box of shells into the thin pocket of her robe, the other she sat on the knickknack table on one side of the door. She unlocked and pulled the door open, there was a zombie right in front of her, he was holding the storm door open and his other hand had been on the doorknob. When Dora pulled the door open he stumbled in towards her, only to be blown backwards in a spray of dark blood. He tumbled off of the porch and onto the sidewalk before falling sideway into the ornamental shrubs in front of the porch.
Looking down her covered porch Dora saw two more zombies had wandered on to it. She dispatched them easily with the shotgun, then turned her attention to the street and her friend. Reloading the gun back up to full capacity Dora started firing at the zombies between her and Marge. This was harder than she would have thought because she did not want to aim directly at her friend and because Marge was hopping around like a jumping bean in the sun.
Marge was doing well, watching each step she took and lunging into where the zombies were dropping. Mike and Paige were trying to create holes for her to move into, much like they had for Roger's Volvo. It was working and with Dora killing those others who got in the way the woman was making it across the street.
It was the children who ruined everything. The two little girls in white and yellow sun dresses, with yellow, corn silk hair ran towards Marge. All three of the people firing at the zombies hesitated, they had not yet seen any child zombies, and the girls looked so alive. They ran at Marge with their arms outstretched in a parody of running towards their long lost mommy, looking for a hug. Too late the three guns boomed out, the fusillade caught one of the little girls in her white clad abdomen, twisting her around and flinging her to the ground. The other girl leaped onto Marge and hugged her tight. Marge tried to throw the zombie off of her, but the girl scrambled around like a spider monkey, sticking like glue. Marge let loose with an agonized scream, then she started running straight for the house, not heading towards cleared areas, not avoiding the other zombies.
An old man in a gray button up shirt with rather long hair grasp Marge as she tried to get by him, he hooked onto her arm, then fell onto her retreating legs, he didn't get a good hold on her, but his action caused the woman to stumbled into three Gothic teenagers. The trio of teens looked like they were giving Marge a group hug, Dora was off the porch of her house now stepping down onto her front law and ignoring the threats around her. To one side a zombie's head exploded, hit by one of Paige's shots. Mike was yelling that he couldn't see Dora, Paige was yelling back at him to get over to the other side of the garage peak so he could help. Dora, meanwhile was advancing steadily on the mob of zombies that had surrounded her friend.
She fired once, twice, three times, knocking as many zombies off their feet, then aimed the gun with one hand while she fumbled ammunition into the magazine below the stock. Shells fell out of her nervous hands and two more zombies heading towards her were knocked over by Paige's firing.
"Dora! Dora!" Paige screamed, "Get back into the house! Get back, there are too many and they are too close to you! Get back!"
Dora either was not aware of Paige's yelling or chose to ignore it, she stepped further out into the street, making her way towards…what exactly?
'I hate Marge. Or I think I do. Why am I doing this?' she asked herself. Yet she could not go back. The group around Marge was driven back, leaving a broken sobbing woman, bleeding from numerous bite marks, part of her hair was missing, bitten away as the zombies tried to bite through her head. The bloody woman looked up as Dora fought her way towards her. Dora saw one of the zombies had bitten Marge on the jaw, blood spilled down the front of her former friend's neck and breast. On her back the little girl was gnawing at Marge's neck like a dog with an old bone. Dora stepped forward and put the barrel of the shotgun against the girl's head, the little girls stopped, turned towards Dora and quick as a blink dropped off of Marge and scooted away.
Dora fired after her, but the shot hit a large fat woman squarely in the abdomen, spraying, blood, guts and cellulite out in an arch behind it. The little girl paused only to drag the other little girl back through the crowd. From the rooftop the two others were raining lead on the mob. Reloading Dora yelled at Marge, "Get the fuck up you whiny, man stealing bitch!"
Marge, on her hands and knees tried to get up, she couldn't and Dora would not help her. "Marge you gotta get up, I can't help you and protect you at the same time, now stop fucking around and get up!" Dora was out of bullets again, Mike and Paige were yelling at her and as she reloaded they told her to get back to the house.
Glancing that way Dora saw the way was mostly clear, she could make it easily on her own, the shotgun was loaded again, all the other rounds were gone; either shot or dropped on the ground along the way. "Fuck me." Dora said softly, bending to grasp Marge under one arm. A zombie grabbed her from behind and literally grabbed her behind. A shot rang out and the thing shuddered, but was not dead, Dora stood up straight, dragging Marge with her and swung the gun barrel in an arc that ended on the thing's arm. It was not the best looking zombie Dora had seen, this thirty something year old man had Italian features and a small Spanish style mustache, his face was a mottled mess that spoke of a hard bout of acne when he was growing up. He screamed when Dora's gun hit his arm.
"Ow! Fuck lady! Don't! I am trying to help!" the man said.
Dora was stunned, she had brought the gun barrel back until it was resting against the man's stomach.
"Please don't kill me!" he said. Behind him Dora saw a middle aged woman and a younger man, maybe fourteen, with baseball bats. They were fighting their way into the mob of zombies, swinging as they went. The zombies they hit went down, however most were not destroyed by a single bat blow.
Moving the gun Dora swung it around and fired at a zombie on the other side of her.
"Come on!" screamed Paige, "There are more coming, the whole block is full of the fuckers! You gotta move!"
With the man on Marge's other side, Dora hefted her friend to her feet and they made a mad dash for the porch, the young man and the woman followed them. Halfway to the porch Dora ran out of shells to fire. She had to use the gun as a club to bash through the last three zombies and make it to her open front door. Once the young man, a boy really, was in she slammed the door and locked it. Dora sat Marge down on the tile of the entry way. "Don't you move from there. I don't want blood on the carpet."
Marge babbling hysterically slumped to the floor and sobbed. The three people looked at each other and then at Dora, who shrugged her shoulders, "My house, my rules, right? C'mon Paco, flip the lights on and let's make sure no zombies got inside while I was out fooling around."
"My name is Alex." said the man, turning he flipped on all the lights, including the one on the porch. The room was clear. She brushed by Alex and grabbed the other box of shotgun shells off of the knickknack table, then shut off all the lights except the one that had come on in the kitchen.
"Fine Alex. I am Dora. Who are these?" she asked pointing at the woman and the boy.
"This is Peter and Marybella, Mary for short. Don't you think we should do something for…" Alex pointed at Marge.
"This woman? Her name is Marge, she used to be my best friend."
"And you make her sit on the floor so you don't get blood on the carpet?"
"She used to be my best friend until yesterday morning, when I caught her sleeping with my husband."
"Oh." Alex gave Marge a hard look, "But you rescued her."
"I never claimed to be bright. She got out of the car, did you see the car?"
"Yeah, we did, only as it was going through, we saw the woman get out of it." Alex was holding his arm where Dora had hit him.
"Walk it off Alex, we can't afford to have you gimping around here one limb short."
"I think you broke it." Alex said seriously.
"Really?" Dora sounded impressed, "I didn't think I could, I mean it takes a lot of strength to break an arm right?"
"Alex, let me look at it." said Mary.
Dora's eyebrow raised up, the way the woman said it let her know that they had some history. The man turned and pulled up his sleeve to his shoulder, wincing as he did so. Mary came forward and touched it tenderly where it was beginning to bruise and felt around the back side of it as well. She asked him to squeeze her hand and then said, "We better get a sling on it and clean this woman up. You have any towels, Dora, right? You have any towels or bandages for your former best friend?"
"Well la-te-da, you a nurse or something?"
"No. I am a doctor." the woman said rather more coldly than Dora would have thought possible.
"A doctor, you look like you are twenty five years old? And you want me to believe this is your kid? Or did you find him somewhere?"
"He's mine." Seeing Dora's look, Mary went on, "Yeah, sometimes life throws things at you, just to see what you can handle. I had a kid at seventeen and still went on to medical school. And I am thirty, thanks for the compliment. Now if we are done sharing irrelevant stories can I get what I need to mend these two up? I need a sheet or a shirt to make a sling for Alex."
Dora had finished reloading the shotgun and put the box into her robe pocket, which caused it to sag down and reveal a bit more of her breasts than the man and boy were comfortable with, they averted their eyes, Mary did not. "Towels? Sure, right away, Doctor! I will have my people get on it."
Moving into the downstairs hallway Dora headed for the linen closet and pulled out the guest towels, she didn't grab the good set, but grabbed the older set she had gotten at her wedding so long ago. She grabbed a set of sheets for the day bed downstairs too and returned with all of this laundry to the living room. Alex was on the leather chair, Marge was still sobbing quietly on the floor.
"Did I miss anything?" asked Paige, coming down the stairs. "I check upstairs, but didn't find any zombie. I checked because I figured you didn't shut the door when you ran out there."
"Oh you missed me making friends in the usual manner. Paige this is Mary, Alex, the boy is Peter and, of course, you have heard all about Marge."
"She gonna be okay?" Paige asked looking at the bleeding woman.
"Sure Paige, she will be fine, Mary is not a nurse; she's a Doctor! In our own neighborhood, in the middle of the fucking night, imagine our luck! Anyway she will fix us right up, won't you Mary?" asked Dora.
"Don't worry about Dora." Paige said, "She is always a bitch, but it will grow on you."
This brought a started, wet laugh from Marge, they all turned towards her and she said, "My God, Dora! Not even now! You can't change even now!"
Rather stiffly Dora replied, "Why change perfection?"
This brought a sharp bark of laughter from Paige, who came up behind Dora and gave her a pat on the back, "Yeah we love you too, you stupid, stupid woman. You gonna hold that shit all day or give it to the doctor? What can I do to help?"
"God, Paige every time I think I start to like you, you surprise me. Go check the rest of the downstairs, we only cleared the living room. Here, take the shotgun, it is better close up than the rifle." Paige propped her rifle up against the back of the couch and Dora handed her the shotgun.
The young woman then started walking towards the hall, then paused and addressed Peter, "You stop slacking, come with me."
The boy looked to Alex and Mary, who both gave curt nods and he followed Paige down the hall.
"Ah, young love, so innocent! So sweet! It's amazing how it happens, isn't it?" said Dora. She handed the sheets to Mary and went over to Marge, where she dropped a towel on the floor. "You look even worse than your normal, ugly self." crouching she looked the other woman in the eyes, "I don't know why I saved you. I really don't. I am so mad at you right now… But I couldn't let them get you. And I couldn't shoot you. How is that for fucked up?"
Behind them Mary was saying to Alex, "Don't do that again. You don't tell him what to do, or give him permission to do anything. You. Do. Not. Do you understand? You do not tell him what to do. He is my son. Mine."
"Maria, not now!" the man hissed.
"Then you stop. I am not fighting you in front of him and you defer to me in everything when he asks, do you understand?"
The man looked at her for a moment, then sighed and said, "Fine, but it won't work for long, you see how he looks at me."
"Fucking great!" Dora injected, "A nice little domestic feud in my home. Hey, doc, could you leave off badgering your baby daddy and come give a look at Marge, she is all pale and shitty looking from blood loss. I may not be a trained professional, but I think bleeding to death takes precedence over a broken arm."
Mary shot Dora another cold look, which had no effect whatsoever on the other woman, then she stopped tending Alex and came over and took a look at Marge.
"Dora, get your gun. Sorry, Marge is it? But you are dead. Dora might as well do it now."