The road was surprisingly clear, with almost no blockages. Sam drove the police car at high speed. After all, there were no traffic lights to obey now, and certainly no need to yield to pedestrians... If any "thing" got in the way, he just had to run it over.
Soon, following the directions on the map, he circled a quiet neighborhood park and found John's house. It was an ordinary-looking detached cottage with a small front garden that looked like it had once been lovingly tended. A few faded Christmas lights still hung under the eaves, seeming to whisper of past joys. Neat gravel paths flanked both sides of the house, and a slightly old Honda sedan was parked quietly in front.
But what made Sam feel most helpless was—the front door of the house… was ajar.
"Alright, looks like my first time being a 'guest' at someone's house, not only did I not bring a gift, I have to go in with a gun." Sam muttered to himself with a bit of helpless self-mockery. It was only when he arrived at John's doorstep that the thought suddenly occurred to him that maybe he should have brought something, even just some snacks or candy grabbed on the way, but it was obviously too late now.
"I'll take John's daughter… what was her name again?… 'shopping' later as compensation." Sam realized he actually couldn't remember the little girl's name. The system mission panel had it, but he didn't want to look, planning to try and remember it himself first.
Sam parked the police car by the roadside, turned off the engine, then walked up the few steps to the front door and cautiously pushed open the ajar door. The doormat was noticeably askew—it seemed some less-than-polite "guests" had already paid a visit.
The scene inside confirmed his suspicions. The air was thick with the faint smell of blood. Some of the living room furniture was overturned, and there were even a few dark red, suspicious smears on the walls. Sam didn't think too much, just raised his voice and yelled into the house, "Hey! Anyone home? I'm a friend of John's, invited over… okay, not exactly invited, but I'm here anyway."
The response was not a human voice, but… two horrifying snarls, almost overlapping, coming from deeper inside the house.
Sam stood at the doorway, not immediately rushing in. Instead, he leisurely pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it… Smoking in someone else's house was indeed impolite, but Sam was smoking at the doorway, not having entered yet, plus, probably no one would care right now.
Soon, two shambling figures appeared in Sam's line of sight. Or rather, it was an extremely bizarre, "conjoined" monster.
It was a combination of a Black woman and what looked like a mixed-race man. The Black woman's hair was slightly curly, looking like it had once been carefully styled. Although age had made her look haggard, she still wore makeup and accessories. But now, a bicycle chain was wrapped tightly around her neck, binding her to the mixed-race man, also a zombie, beside her, like some grotesque conjoined creature.
[Huh? What's this situation?] Even a troublemaker like Sam was a bit surprised by the scene before him, especially since the Black woman looked like John's wife.
He didn't retreat. Instead, just as the "conjoined zombie" was about to lunge at the doorway, he leaped forward with an unimaginably light movement, directly over them. He didn't even turn around, delivering a precise back spinning kick that slammed hard into the two entangled bodies.
With a THUD, the "conjoined twins" were kicked with tremendous force out the door, landing on the front lawn. Immediately after, Sam drew his pistol and, without hesitation, fired two finishing shots, completely ending their "dance". Not a single drop of blood splashed inside John's house.
Sam shrugged, closed the door behind him, and only then began to carefully look around John's home.
The house was quite clean, likely cleaned often. On a cabinet by the entrance, a family photo album was placed, quite stereotypically. Sam casually flipped through it. Inside were photos of John and his wife when they were young, but more were of a little girl's growth—from riding a pony wearing a cowboy hat at a children's rodeo, to sweating profusely after a long-distance race; from jumping over a crude sandcastle on the beach, to wearing a graduation gown… One photo after another clearly showed a girl's journey from childhood to adolescence.
[Hmm… okay, at least I have a clearer idea of what she looks like now.] Sam closed the album, still unable to remember the girl's name. He scratched his head, then… walked straight to the kitchen and expertly opened John's fridge. He had only eaten some junk food earlier and was now starving. Besides, there was still plenty of time left on the mission clock, no rush.
He used a dinner knife to slice a few thick pieces of cooked sausage and butter, chugged a large glass of juice, and only then, satisfied, headed upstairs.
"Hey! Anyone upstairs? I'm a friendly police officer, no need to be scared!" Sam called out as he walked up the stairs, but the upper floor remained dead silent.
"Hmm… no need to be afraid of me, I'm really a good guy, more real than a politician's campaign promise." Sam found no reaction from upstairs. There were three rooms on the second floor. Two doors were open, only one was tightly shut. Without a doubt, that was John's daughter Tanya's room… Of course, it was also possible they had a basement to hide in.
"Listen, kid," Sam leaned against the door, trying a different approach, "I'm your dad's partner. He asked me to come check on things. You can call me Uncle Sam." He didn't plan to break down the door immediately; after all, he still considered himself a "gentleman" who didn't just barge into a girl's room…
[…if she doesn't open the door in the next three minutes.] he added silently in his mind.
Staring at the still, silent, closed door before him, Sam sighed, deciding to make one last attempt. He cleared his throat, leaned against the wall by the door, and said in a tone as heavy and sincere as he could muster:
"Listen, kid. I'm… here with your father's last words." He paused, letting the weight of the sentence sink in. "At the end… he said he loves you all. I'm sorry… he has been sacrificed."
Sam continued in that low tone, "We only knew each other for a day, but he mentioned a lot about you and your mother… I remember he said you once threw a tantrum with your hands on your hips over some ice cream you didn't get, he said it was really cute… He also mentioned your name, I remember… it was something like… Teddy? Or Teenie? Tara? Sonya?" Sam deliberately pretended to be struggling to remember, even starting to guess randomly. "Alright, I really forgot, can you give me a hint?"
Just as Sam's patience was wearing thin and he was about to kick the damn door down—a jarring scraping sound of a chair being violently pushed back came from behind the door. Immediately after, the lock clicked open, and the door was yanked open forcefully from the inside.
An angry girl's voice followed, "That's enough! My name is Tanya! You forgetful and rude idiot!"
Appearing before Sam was a Black girl with her hands on her hips, glaring at him angrily. She looked about fourteen or fifteen, with her hair in neat short braids, wearing loose jeans and a plaid shirt, dressed like a tomboy, her eyes filled with anger, grief, and a hint of wary alertness.
System Notification: Rescue Family Member Mission Completed. Objective: Rescue John's daughter Tanya, trapped in their home, Accomplished. Mission Reward: Hope Points +300.
"Oh, so it's Tanya." Looking at the fuming little girl before him, Sam immediately put on what he considered his kindest, most harmless smile, revealing a set of professionally polished, gleaming white teeth that shone even in the dim hallway.
"Hello there, Tanya. My name is Sam, it's a pleasure to meet you."