I didn’t answer as the images of these disgusting people eating others filled the screen. All of them seemed so evil…and almost dead. One of the news stations showed a freeze-frame of one of them to show that his skin had turned an ashy, grey color and that his eyes were almost completely black. But no station offered an explanation.

The ringing phone in my hand made me jump. I cursed, remembering I should have called my dad. “Hello?”

“Sweetie, are you in the basement?”

“Dad, what are those things? Why are they doing that?”

“Are you in the basement?”

“Yes.”

“Is Hattie with you?”

My eyes flit to her. “Yes.”

“Good, put me on speakerphone.”

I pressed the button. “Okay.”

“Hattie,” my dad said.

“I’m here,” she said. “We are both safe and in the basement.”

“Hattie, in the basement sitting room there is a large, black safe, do you know it?”

“Of course,” she said.

“Go there.”

I followed Hattie into the sitting room until she made it to the safe. It was taller than I and could probably fit a person or two in it. I hoped he wasn’t about to ask us to hide in there. “Okay,” she said.

“I want you punch in the code. It’s 0-9-0-2-1-9-8-8.”

Hattie punched in the code on the keypad in the middle of the safe and the sliding lock slipped free allowing Hattie to swing open the heavy door. The first thing I saw was a row of guns - a mix of metal and wood - ready to kill. On the other side was a row of pistols, all shined and polished as though they had never been used before.

“Do you know how to fire a gun?”  he asked.

“Yes, I do,” Hattie said, reaching for one of the large hunting rifles.

“Good,”  he said. “Waverly, I want you to take one too.”

I felt sickness overtake my stomach. “I don’t want to use a gun,” I said.

“Sweetie, I’ve taught you how to shoot, now it’s time to put that into good practice. I want you to shoot whoever comes into the house that you don't recognize."

I couldn’t believe the words I was hearing. Dad wanted me to shoot an intruder? Were those monsters coming here? “Dad, are you coming home?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, I heard him yelling out. “No!” He screamed. “No, no, no! Get out!”

“Daddy!”

Glass shattered from his end of the phone. My dad’s voice was drowned out by grunts and moans.

“You can’t! You can’t! Oh no! Please!” His cries ended in a gargling noise and the phone fell from my hands as I dropped to my knees.

“Daddy,” I whimpered.

Hattie wrapped one of her arms around me and grabbed the phone with the other, ending the call.