Last Man Standing: Chapter 3

Rachel's POV I sat on the floor of the apartment, banging my head against the wall, while Malcolm searched through the kitchen for about the tenth time for food. Why couldn't something happen? Exploding buildings, insane mutant attack, even the weakest, most boring zombie would be perfectly fine!

Malcolm swore under his breath. "No food," he muttered unhappily.

I scowled. "You'll live." "Not for long!" he snapped. "We need food to survive!"

"You just ate!"

"Yes," he said, rolling his eyes. "Two crackers and a grape,"

"Well, get over it!" I snapped, even more annoyed now. "It's not like I've had a lot to eat either!"

He glared at me (which I returned) and muttered something under his breath.

I scowled and turned my head, looking out the window towards the grey, dead-looking sky. I briefly wondered what was going on in the Underworld-probably the same as it was before, undead minions, zombified god of the dead, flesh-eating zombie-prince, and hellhound-turned werewolves.

I shook my head. My family certainly was messed up. Gods, it sounded like some screwed up, yet some how better version of Twilight. At least, the werewolfs part did...sort of...

I stood up, stretched, and glared at Malcolm. "You keep guard-I'm tired."

"What!? No! I'm tired to!" he said.

"You slept a few hours ago!" I snapped. "I haven't slept since yesterday!"

"I was only asleep for, what, five minutes?"

"It's still sleep," I replied, irritated.

We glared at each other for a minute, before I turned and angrily walked to to the small bedroom door, before freezing next to the window.

"Malcolm," I whispered, even though it was unneeded. "Come here!"

"What?" he demanded.

"Look," I said, eyes widening. "It's a truck! In the parking lot!"

He blinked. "Wh-what?" he grabbed his gun and scrambled towards the window. "Holy shit," he muttered.

I nodded. "You think it's some survivors?"

"Who else could it be, then?"

I shrugged. "Intelligant zombies from Hades, robot invasion, ghosts, a mirage brought on by our own insanity anything really..."

His eyes narrowed. "Robot invasion? Mirage from insanity?"

"It could happen!" I snapped.

He scowled. "I never said it couldn't! It's just...nevermind..But..what should we do?"

I bit my lip, glaring at the truck. "If they are robots or zombies, we can kick their ass. If they are ghosts, grab a vacuum. If it's a mirage, we kill ourselves or each other...and if they are survivors, we can still kick their ass."

"Okay, sure. But we should probably hide and see what they even are first, before we attack them or ourselves."

I shrugged. "Fine." I said, unknowingly making one of the worst mistakes of my life, seeing as five minutes later, I was sitting uncomfortably under a sink, while Malcolm got to luxuriously sit behind a couch while we waited for possibly nothing to slam the door open.