Sanctuary by T.W. Piperbrook

the properties were set back from the road and sat at the end of long driveways. As he passed each one, he envisioned the layout of the rooms, the items they'd taken, and the bodies they'd encountered. He hoped the houses they were traveling to now would be empty. A vacant home was a symbol of hope. Where there were no bodies, there was a chance the residents were still safe and alive. That gave Dan faith that he and his companions would one day find sanctuary of their own.  
    Meredith's directions were accurate, and soon Dan spotted several houses in the distance. He pulled into the driveway of the first one, approaching at a crawl. The house was light blue, with black shutters and a wide porch. The front door was open. Several porch chairs sat empty, as if the occupants had gone inside for a beverage refill and would be out momentarily.  
    He doubted that was the case.
    Next to the house was a two-car detached garage. The doors were open. A single battered car occupied one of the parking spaces. The other spot was taken by a tractor and tools. Dan parked the SUV and stared at the open front door, then rolled down the window a crack. He listened. The property was silent. He looked out over the lawn. It was well maintained. Though he couldn't quite see mow marks, he could envision them in the grass.
    Tim waited for instructions.
    "Let's check the house first," Dan said. "Make sure we don't have company. We don't want any surprises."  
    Leaving the key in the ignition, he opened the door and started up the driveway, cutting across the grass. He motioned for his companion to follow. Through the front door, he spotted an empty living room and a kitchen. He crept closer. The layout was similar to the Sanders'. Everything appeared in order.  
    Seeing nothing suspicious, Dan walked up the steps and stepped across the threshold, aiming his gun. He was immediately greeted by the smell of death. He coughed and lifted his collar above his nose. Behind him, Tim gagged.
    Farther in the living room, two bodies were sprawled on the floor, their entrails unraveled. The creatures had gotten to them. Flies buzzed and circled, and Dan shooed them away.  
    He stepped past the gruesome scene and into the kitchen. Other than the insects, the house was silent and still, as if the place had been vacant for a long time. Dan noticed a few kitchen drawers were hanging open. The place had already been stripped. It looked like they hadn't been the first people to come across the place.
    After checking the house, they headed for the garage.
    "I'm sure they'll have a gas can, with that tractor in there," Dan said. "Hopefully no one took it already."
    The garage smelled of damp wood and grass clippings. The sedan was ransacked, the tires flattened. Dan lowered his gun and searched near the tractor. Tim walked around the sedan, exploring the other side.  
    Dan noted some gardening tools, bags of mulch, and watering cans. Past them, hidden behind flowerpots, was a gas can. Dan felt a surge of relief. He read the label on a dirty piece of masking tape that had been adhered to the side. "Straight gas. We're in luck."  
    He hefted the gas can in the air. At the same time, something flashed in his peripheral vision. When he looked up, Tim was pointing the pistol at him.
    Before Dan could react, Tim fired.
    Dan dropped to the ground, but he was too late to avoid a bullet. The gas can clattered to the cement. He waited for the pain of being shot, but it never came.
    Instead, he heard a groan a few feet behind him, then the thud of a body hitting the garage floor. When he spun, Dan saw a creature flailing on the ground, blood spitting from its neck. The thing was tall and thin, sporting a baseball cap and a ragged beard. Its shirt was covered in gore.  
    He hadn't even heard it enter.
    The creature gave one final heave and grew still.  
    "Holy shit." Dan looked at Tim incredulously. "You saved my ass."
    "I didn't mean to scare you."
    "I thought you weren't