Down with the Fallen: A Post-Apocalyptic Horror Anthology

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I contented myself with just looking in from the window. If I were alone, I would’ve ventured in. But I knew what my companion would make of it. I didn’t want him spreading any more rumors about me. He already found me absurd to begin with and made no pretense to hide it, eyeing me like I dropped a handful of dirt in my mouth if I studied a peculiarly shaped leaf, turning it over; I liked to draw them.

I looked over my shoulder at him. He sat motionless, staring out through the gap in the fence, his fingers absently tying and undoing knots in the lasso on his lap. The seat he was in was probably attached to a vehicle at some point. I don’t know where he got it from, but I found him lounged in it after I completed the sweep to confirm the house was empty. He tipped it back, rocking himself by pushing his heel against the carcass at his feet.

I gazed back into the room. With my eyes and just enough moonlight, I could make out the different objects within. I guessed the use of some, but wondered what such-and-such thing might be used for and made up stories surrounding them. Of course, I had no one to share them with. Not anymore.

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