What does this mean? I just linger there and freeze. Here I am standing idle in the house we risked life and limb to get to, and I’m just procrastinating by the door. Am I afraid to find out what happened to Luke? Am I afraid he won’t be here and I won’t find out what happened to him? And where’s Rudy? Where’s the great distraction he’s supposed to be creating? Did something happen to him? The door rattles from the dead trying to get in. Through the window, I can see the porch is crawling with zombies. I pull the shade and close the curtain. It won’t take long before they come through. I glance around; we’re in the living room. I grab a couch and drag it toward the door. Maria and Guille go to the opposite end and push. We slide the sofa between the door and the staircase that faces the entryway. It leaves about a three-inch gap that no Zeb will be able to squeeze through. With all the noise we made sliding the furniture and the banging and scratching on the door, it leads me to believe the house is empty of anything, living or not.
