I checked the area around the complex and didn’t see any activity.

“I wonder where all the zombies are?” Mark asked.

“What do you mean?” I said, looking into a garage that had been left open. There were some garden tools, but nothing of interest.

“I mean, this is a town with a population of over thirty thousand. We should have a lot of zombies here.”

I thought about it for a minute as I checked the inside garage door to see if it was open. It wasn’t. “Good question. I guess a lot of these people just bugged out as soon as they could, given their proximity to the interstates and the river and canal.”

“Where did they go?” Mark asked as he stepped up to the door with his crowbar.

I shrugged. “My guess is they went to the state centers. Who knows? I’m sure the ones we run into around here are the ones that got left behind by friends and relatives. This was a big commuter town, with a lot of people living here who worked in Chicago, and we all know what happened there.”

Mark nodded as he worked the crowbar. He and his wife had managed to get out of the city, but he would likely never forget what he had gone through to get out.

The door popped open and we both stepped back. We didn’t hear anything, but that meant nothing. Stepping into the kitchen area, I looked around and motioned for Mark to move forward. He stepped in and headed for the stairs, while I checked the downstairs and the basement. The first floor was clear, and showed signs of a hurried exit. Supplies were scattered around, and some of the items were personal.

I heard Mark moving around upstairs, but he hadn’t called for help, so I figured the upstairs was clear. I headed to the basement door and opened it. Immediately a decaying smell hit me, and I knew something was dead down there.