Freya left the kitchen and ran to where Greg had pointed. There was a gap between the newspaper stuck on the windows through which she could see the front yard. She frowned as she couldn't seem to see anyone out there.

Leaning back slowly, she looked at Greg. "Are you sure you saw someone?"

"Yes, he was looking right at the house."

Freya crouched forward again and looked a little more carefully this time. "What did the person look like?"

"He looked like the guy from the store," Greg replied, solemnly.

Freya's heart stopped but she didn't show it and slowly rose to her feet.

"There's nobody out there, Greg," she said, monotonously. She couldn't reveal how terrified that revelation made her. There was a very big possibility that they had been followed.

"I know what I saw," he said, pushing her aside and then looking through the gap himself.

"Okay, okay. Just keep an eye out while I check on breakfast," Freya replied as she left.

She was scared not only about the possibility that someone was watching the house but that the stranger was in fact someone from the store they'd escaped from. It felt like a ticking bomb had been set on her and she could hear the slow tick sounds every time she allowed herself to listen to the silence. Plopping the eggs on to the plates, she turned the stove off.

There was a sudden bang at the door. The ticking bomb, she felt, was now at her feet as she froze in place. There shouldn't have been anyone at the door. People just didn't knock in the apocalypse anymore. Because she didn't even know how many people were out there anymore.

Greg shot up straight, his heart thumping in his chest.

"Freya," he whispered and she quietly tip toed to him.

"Get behind the couch and do not get up until I tell you, okay?" she said as Greg quickly laid down, obediently.

Freya went back to the corridor when she heard a plant pot thrown to the door. It fell back broke on the porch. She nearly jumped from the intensity of the sound it made at the impact.

She looked through the key hole, her heart hammering in her chest. Looking at the three men, she recognised one of them from the store. Greg was right. They were followed back from the store. Freya immediately ran to the kitchen, she picked up the knife and put it in the pocket of her hoodie. She wasn't sure it would be enough to fight them. If they broke down the door, they would be completely vulnerable to the smoke.

"Open up, we know you're all alone," one of the men finally said.

Freya went to the door and waved her hand for Greg to put his head down. "What do you want?" she asked, loudly.

"Oh we just wanna talk, come on. Open the door," he replied.

"Leave us alone, we didn't do anything wrong," she said, her voice shaking.

"We won't hurt you," he sighed.

"Why did you follow us?" Freya asked, scared by the notion that it had been that goddamn easy.

"Your story smelled like horse shit. We had to come and see for ourselves now, didn't we? Can't blame us for that. Seems awfully strange that you two have survived this long and without a group even."

Freya stayed silent, her palms starting to get sweaty.

"What the fuck?" Billy said as he attempted to touch the door. It was like an invisible force pushed him back, preventing him from breaking the door down.

Freya was as confused and shocked as they were, watching through the door.

"Witch" the other man said.

"What?" Freya said.

Billy held up his hand, "No, she's human. Someone's charmed the house."

Freya continued to watch them.

Billy licked his lips in thought, "Tristan's gonna wanna see this."

"What do you want? We did as you said and left when you asked," Freya said, nervously as she glanced at the third guy who looked like he was calling someone.

"Well, you see, honey. This uh- situation makes us far too curious to let it go. Who charmed your house?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she shouted hysterically. "Just get the fuck away from us."

Greg watched his sister from the living room, worried about her and a situation he hoped wouldn't escalate any further.

When he ended his phone call, Freya looked back at Billy. She wondered who these people were and why they didn't seem to be as afraid of the smoke as she was. But above all, she wondered how they had survived this long without a protected house. Why was this all so interesting to them?

"I wouldn't get too comfortable because when Tristan gets here, you're going to let him in," Billy said.

"And if I refuse?" she tried.

"Nobody refuses Tristan."

•

Freya began to pace, anxiously. They couldn't come inside the house so they were safe, she thought. Grabbing the plate of cold food, she handed it to Greg.

"When I tell you to hide, you hide back there okay?"

"Okay," he mumbled.

Freya went back to the kitchen and grabbed Greg's pocket knife and then her phone. She gave Greg the knife and told him to hide it beneath his belt. "Do not lose that."

And then she proceeded to pacing about the corridor. She could hear the men talking among themselves on the other side of the closed door.

Minutes passed by and Freya's breakfast had gotten cold, too. Greg brought his plate to the kitchen and set it in the sink.

"Freya, we don't have to let them in."

"I know, I won't."

"We can let them wait out there until the smoke comes and they'll leave themselves."

Freya nodded but something still bothered her. "The charms were supposed to keep the infected out."

Greg frowned, wondering where she was going with it.

Freya looked at the door, lost in deep thought. "They can't be human, otherwise they'd be able to come in."

Freya was about to continue when she heard a low voice from outside the door. "How sweet, it's family time inside for these guys. Open the fucking door."

Freya's eyes widened and Greg knew what he had to do and ran to the couches.

She gulped and walked to the door and looked through the hole.

"I can hear you behind the door."

"Leave us alone," Freya said.

She heard one of the other men grumble but the one whose shirt was blocking the hole spoke over him. "How about you open this door and we have a decent conversation?"

"No," Freya said.

She heard him sigh in annoyance.

"Open the god damn door before I launch a shit load of bullets at it and force it down," Billy interrupted.

"You can't get in," she said, unconvinced.

"I know someone who can and we won't stop coming until we get what we're here for," Freya could hear the mocking tone in this new man's voice.

Freya glanced at Greg who was silently signaling her to not open the door. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening the door, her hand shaking as she looked up at the tall man whose name she presumed to be Tristan. Greg's heart sunk and wrapped his hand around his pocket knife.

He stared at her icily, an unfamiliar expression on his face. His eyes were an intense blue but still, unreadable. Freya stared back at him, finding herself unable to speak.

When it became too uncomfortable, Freya spoke up. "You wanna talk? Talk."

"That's no way to talk to the Alp-"

Tristan cut Billy off by waving his hand dismissively, never leaving her eyes.

"I saw the bodies outside," he said, fixated on Freya.

"Okay," she shrugged.

"Quite a number."

She remained silent.

"You don't know what those things are, do you? The ones that come out in the smoke."

"And you do?" Freya raised an eyebrow.

He leaned forward, his face an inch away from the doorway. Freya narrowed her eyes but her heart beat quickened. She was scared the house would fail to protect them from the strangers.

"Let's just say I know a lot about those things. But you," he paused.

"You won't survive here for long, you know? Soon you'll run out of water and then food. The electricity will go out and then finally when there's no gas, no warmth, and no way of surviving, you're going to leave this house. And we will be here waiting.

The smoke will get stronger and they will keep coming for you. Hours of clear air will get shorter and then what will you do? You can't hide from us and you certainly cannot outrun them."

"What do you want?" she said, annoyed.

"I want to know about the witch who charmed the house."

"Well, that's her body in the garden so you can go ask her."

Tristan was surprised but he resisted his lips from twitching. Her sarcasm amused her.

"I want to see her stuff."

"Why?"

Tristan narrowed his eyes at her. "You ask too many questions."

Freya shrugged, "You could just leave."

"I want to know about the charms."

"Well, as I said, she's dead so I can't help you. And there's no way I'm letting you in."

"Oh, you're going to let me in."

Freya nodded. "Yeah, of course I will," she said, sarcastically.

"You're going to beg me for my help and in exchange, you will allow me into your home to search her belongings as I please."

"Uh-huh," Freya said, trying to sound confident.

Tristan maintained eye contact with Freya for a long moment before breaking it. "Let's go, the smoke will be back soon."

Freya shook her head and locked the door, watching them leave through the hole. Her heart was beating fast and Greg watched her from behind the sofa.

"What the heck was that?"

"This door stays locked no matter what, clear?" Freya muttered before walking off.