There was a heavy thudding at the door, I’m not paranoid but there was something about the arrhythmic nature of the knocking that made me wary. “Wait, don’t open it.” I looked through the peephole and had my fears confirmed. “Honey.” I shouted upstairs to my wife. “Can you get the council on the phone, we’ve got zombies at the door.”
“Oh, wow, zombies! I’ve never seen one, can I look? Please dad can I?” My youngest asked as the sporadic knocking continued.
“Ok, I’m going to lift you up to the peephole, but no loud noises or they’ll try and eat your brains.” As I lifted her up I noticed that her older brother had sidled into the room, he was a teenager so he tried not to look excited and pretended to watch the tv at first. “Want a look next?”
“Oh, ok, whatever.” He replied, as if he wasn’t as interested as his sister. “Why are they still around? The zombie outbreak was 18 years ago.” Before I could explain the reasons to him there was a shout from upstairs.
“Jim, the phone line’s down!”