Like a House on Fire

I glanced at her.
“Optimism at all times, remember?”
“Fuck that government survival guide. It probably killed more people than zombies.”
“We’ve got better things to worry about. What do you think, fire or zeds?”
She picked up her previously-discarded gun and slapped a new magazine into place. I looked down at Steve’s little SMG, pulled out the magazine and looked through the top. A lone bullet lay right at the top. I pulled it out and slid it into the magazine of my pistol. Every bullet counts.
“Great, an empty SMG and a half-empty pistol. Looks like we’re done for, Jess.”
“I’d trade both for a fire extinguisher, actually.”

The thin trickle of smoke under the door became a torrent. I risked opening the door with my hand inside a pocket and promptly allowed a billowing tongue of fire into the room. I hurried slammed the heavy oak door shut again, staggering backwards and stumbling against a box.

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