With all of our new gear equipped and the empty house looted, Rat and I decided to raid one more house before the sun set. Toting my new fancy crowbar, backup wrench and torch, I felt slightly more confident. The fact that we had only encountered two zombies also added to this sense of safety.

  We stepped out of the front door of the boarded-up home and headed left to the two-storey McMansion next door. The house was very typically mid-1990s with its pale brick, monotone colour scheme and tiny yard-to-house ratio. In the driveway sat a red Commodore VR ute with the odd dent in the door panels. It looked well-loved, but nevertheless appeared functional.

  Approaching the house, Rat seemed cautious as he sniffed the air. He seemed to slow and started to circle the house, glancing in every window as he passed. I stayed in the front yard by a large crepe myrtle. Looking around the street, I could see nearly every house had one planted on the nature strip. Rat soon returned. He looked at me and then to the house, then back to me and then again to the house, seeming to indicate that he wanted to show me something. We walked closer to the front window and peered inside, my eyes adjusting to the dark lighting indoors.

  “Bam!” The zombie’s hands clapped as he threw them onto the window, out of nowhere. I jumped, nearly having a heart attack at the almost comical jumpscare. Rat started barking, also startled by the zombie’s presence. I ushered Rat away from the window towards the front door.

  “Better out than in, I suppose,” I said to Rat, thinking that fighting in an enclosed space would be far worse than fighting outdoors.

  I put my hand on the door knob, hoping it would be unlocked. The knob turned and we were in luck. I swung the door open and the zombie sauntered out towards us slowly.

  Rat did his best to confuse and distract the zombie, darting around him like he was on an agility course.

  Time to test the crowbar! I thought to myself, hoping it was as good as the bat.

  “Thwack!” One fell swoop to the zombie’s noggin and off it came, flying back towards the boarded windows next door. The torso fell to the floor with a dull thud, obscuring the path underneath as blood flowed from the gaping neck wound.

  “Wow, that was great!” I said to Rat. “This crowbar is amazing!”

  Before drawing too much attention to ourselves, Rat and I entered the house, closing the door behind us.

  “Rat, can you check upstairs?” I asked as I motioned towards the staircase.

  Rat ran spritely up the stairs, his tiny boots clunking with every tread. I checked the ground floor, opening closets, the laundry, study and a half bathroom.

  All clear here, I thought.

  “Woof woof woof woof woof!” Rat shouted from upstairs.

  I bolted upstairs, heading towards the barks and growls. In the back of the house was a large bedroom. There I found Rat, static at the entrance door, staring at the corner of the room and scream-barking.

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  Sitting at a small table was an old man wearing a faded army coat with the tag Sgt. Brown on the lapel. He was pale, but seemingly not yet dead. He looked at us, forlorn, and opened his mouth to speak.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t do better,” the man gasped, lifting up his jumper to show a huge purulent gash. With tears in his eyes, he reached down under the table, lifting up what looked to be a Colt 45 to his head.

  “I’ll see you soon, Gloria,” he said, quivering.

  “Mr Brown! Wait!” I screamed, but it was too late. I closed my eyes just in time to hear a single gunshot followed by a clunk.

  Rat whimpered next to me and I opened my eyes. Mr Brown’s lifeless body lay hunched over the table, his revolver still in hand, smoke wafting out of the barrel.

  Rat and I turned to leave, unwilling to loot the room, out of respect. We closed the door and grabbed a nearby chair, wedging it under the handle, just in case. Shocked and saddened, I escorted Rat downstairs.

  “That’s why we haven’t seen many zombies, boy – Mr Brown was here before us, clearing our path,” I lamented to Rat.

  Somewhat distracted from our plans, I mindlessly wandered around the ground floor, looking half-heartedly through cupboards.

  Reaching the kitchen, I started to grab some cans on a shelf, unzipping the duffle bag. Once again, I found myself standing in front of the interface, in the dark purgatory space. As I stared at the words in front of me, I slumped down to the floor.

  Why am I even doing this? Maybe I should just stay here in the menu.

  Obviously affected by the traumatic events of earlier, I curled into myself, hugging my knees the best I could with a duffle bag betwixt. Back when I was alive, I had dabbled in depression, and it seemed that even in death I couldn’t escape my tendencies towards mental illness. I remained in the interface for what could have been hours, days or minutes; when there is no way to mark the passage of time, it’s very hard to tell. Eventually I closed my eyes; the stark white text had become grating to my vision.

  * * *

  “Good boy, Rat!” I said as I threw a ball to him. Rat jumped high into the air, catching it and flipping back around to land. He ran back to me, wagging his tail enthusiastically as he fetched the ball. I bent down and gave him a hearty scratch on the back, his leg kicking up as I’d hit a good spot. I looked up and over the field we stood in; a lovely farmhouse with a tin roof was in the distance. Rat turned back to me and licked my face before stotting towards the house.

  I opened my eyes and found myself still in the dark interface. I’ve got to get out of this menu, for Rat! I thought to myself, the dream of a peaceful life with my new companion fresh in my mind. I reached out for the X and was back in the kitchen of the house. Rat clunked over in his boots and I smiled as I bent down to pat him, scratching his back to find the good spot. His tail wagged and his leg bobbed, echoing my dream.

  “Good boy, Rat,” I said as he turned around and gave me a small lick.

  We continued searching the bottom floor of the house and came across the keys to the Commodore.

  “Look what I found!” I said to Rat, jingling the keys. I slipped them into my tool belt.

  Encouraged by this fantastic find, I continued pottering around the house, collecting potentially useful items. I got to the last bookcase of the ground floor and went to put a beginner’s guide to blacksmithing into my bag. I placed it inside when, oddly, it fell right back out. Thinking this was the clumsiness handicap at work, I tried again, but this time the book flew out with almost comic speed. I zipped up the bag and unzipped it again, returning once more to the interface.

  Looking back up at the menu, I could see that the inventory section listed a multitude of things, but, more importantly, I could see that next to the heading the word ‘FULL’ was flashing slightly. I closed out of the interface and zipped up my bag, picking the book back up from the floor.

  “Looks like I’m full-up, Rat,” I said. “Let’s go put this in our new car.”

  I opened the front door, headed out to the car and pressed the button on the keyfob, opening the central locking.

  I’m in! I started walking over to the driver’s door when I looked up – a cluster of about ten zombies were sprauchling over to the yard.

  Holy shit. “Rat! Get in the car!!!”