“Please… just let me in… I have coffee cake!” The girl on the other side of the door pleads.

I let out a giggle and cover my mouth immediately after. “Dammit.” I whisper. Cursing my giggle and the lamp I left on in the first place.

Shelby’s ring touches my lips, it’s cold metal feels much too fancy on my dry lips.

I imagine what Shelby would have done. Sure, she didn’t like coffee cake at all, or any type of coffee but, she’d still invite the girl in and eat a curtesy slice. And that was before the…current… situation. If it were today, Shelby would be welcoming her in with a warm towel and flask of water.

I’m not Shelby though.

Still her presence weighs on me, or maybe it’s just my concise. I’d never had gotten good at listening to it.

“So… you just… were….like… “Hey it’s the end of the world and by god do I need to use the heavy cream before it goes bad!”” I say in a voice rising in sarcasm.

The girl on the other side of the door lets out a giggle.

“Hmph, No, I just bought coffee cake last week and didn’t remember till I drove again last night.” She responds casually, the pleading anxiety melting away from her voice.

My ears perk up at the mention of a car, gas. I slowly pry off my hockey mask. I realize my own stupidity and let out a quiet chuckle. I just look a short Jason Voorhees.

I peak my eye through the peephole the flimsy fabric covering flops back down on my head. Even after weeks of humidity it smells like Shelby’s perfume.

The girl looks my age, her hair stringy and black, her skin a slight tan, under her thin framed glasses her eyes are gaunt and her under eyes puffy.

I should be more wary. It would be better, safer, easier.

But yet, in her shaking hands is a box of coffee cake.

I start at the thick deadbolt and lock. My better judgement seems wilted in comparison to the urge to let this girl in.

Maybe I just want to be a hero for once.

As I unlock I can hear her rock on the balls of her feet as it echos in the rotting wood.

“ThankyouThankyouThankYOU!” she exclaims almost all too loud.

As she barrels through the door I shush her thankfulness.

“Shut it come on! They’ll hear you!” I squeak out angrily.

I take stock of the rest of her, as she lumbers up from her mess of excited limbs. She’s wearing a tie dyed tank top and acid wash denim shorts. The girl is incredibly tall, at least a head and shoulders over me. As I mentally tally her physical advantages I feel my stomach sink further.

“Can I sit down a sec?” She asks like we are old chummy neighbors. A southern sounding draw is audible from this side of the door.

“…Yeah… sure….” I say making a motion to the living room, which even though it’s been only a week seems to be coated in dust. Even as I step up on the landing she’s still a few inches taller than me.

“Sure…I mean…we need somewhere to eat the cake.” I say wiping off the invisible dust off the bay window seat.

“Haha… yeah” The girl akwardly replies. Awkwardness. Something that no matter the circumstances never seems to change.

As we dig in she asks my name.

“Lara, Lara Botkins” I say wiping the sugar from my lips suddenly self conscious.

“Raven Cecily.” The girl adds between mouthfuls , like an excited puppy.

“So…where is everybody from?” I ask in a radio host style voice.

“Fisherville Virginia, spent the first five years of my life in southern Georgia hence the twang.” She starts, humoring me with a small grin. “Where am I anyway? ‘Kept the lights on dim and didn’t see any signs off the highway.”

“The part of Jersey where the burbs meet the swamp, and that’s all you need to know about that.” I exposit with a sad grin. “It’s not like it matters anymore.”

As I finish my thought branches crush outside the window.

‘No…No…not now’ I think, anxiety piping hot into my body that has turned a chilled cold.

Raven whipped her head around looking for a light switch. I point to the back wall and start turning off the lamp.

The leaves and tree branches crunch at a fervor.

Raven swats the switch down and hits the carpeted floor. I follow suit, our breaths in sync.

“Do you have like… a weapon or something?” Raven asks in a hushed whisper. Her eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

I get up to an all fours position careful stay out of view from the window.

“Uh some old pistols. Like 1920s type I guess?” I remember starting a crawl for the study.

“Wouldn’t that be locked?” Raven asks concernedly.

“You know.. you’d think but no.” I say exasperatedly crawling into the study as the footsteps continue to increase and get louder.

After a fumble with the cabinet I pass the vintage pistol to her across the floor.

In an flash she whips off her thin glasses and starts for the window. With a swift move she kicks open the barn door. In the chaos I sit in shock at the study.

‘Oh please be some assassin spy’ I muse.

With the aim of a seasoned hunter she squints and shoots the pistol.

The creature goes down in a whine.

“My god!” I scream finally standing up.

Raven sits down unimpressed.

“Well we should still finish the coffee cake.”