After our meal, Rat and I sat for some time in the living room. I picked up the first-aid book on the shelf, flipped it open and started to read it. The book contained your rudimentary first-aid information, and I began in the section about treating cuts and scrapes. Not bad to have this on hand. After reading about twenty pages, I closed the book, stuffing it and the other books from the shelf into my bag, along with the picture of Rat and his dad. While at the bookcase, I perused the VCR collection and giggled at the knock-off titles that were there; Three Males and an Infant, The Clean King of Los Angeles and Bad Dream on Maple Road were some of my favourites. They must not be able to use copyrighted movies in this game, I chuckled to myself. In total there were about fifteen tapes on the shelf, but I didn’t take any. Who’s watching bad movies in a zompocalypse?

  After we were done recuperating, I swept the house one more time for anything we might need. I shoved the dog food, kitchen knife, bowl, cheese and bread into my bag and zipped it up. In our tour through the house, I noticed Rat yelp slightly while walking in the kitchen. Concerned, I rushed over to him.

  “What’s wrong, Rat? Let me give you a little medical check.” I bent down to touch him when I was thrust back into the black purgatory – but instead of my normal interface, this time it showed a profile of Rat: Rat – Former Sheep Dog – 4 – 99% health.

  99% health? I hovered my hand over the words, but no more information was revealed. “Helpful,” I said to myself sarcastically as I closed out of the menu and found myself back in the kitchen.

  I checked over Rat’s body and noticed he had a small puncture on his front right paw. Looking around on the floor, I saw that the ring pull for the can of dog food was detached and had some blood on it.

  “Poor Ratty, did you step on the ring?” I walked over to the red blouse I had discarded in favour of the flannel and tore a long strip from the bottom.

  Rat lifted his paw and allowed me to bandage him.

  “What a good boy!” I praised him.

  I decided to quickly tear up the remainder of the shirt in case I needed more strips later. I picked them all up and once again opened the duffle bag, entering the interface. I unzipped the bag fully and looked up, noticing that the first-aid section had one box fully green now.

  First-aid – Level 2 – 5/300

  Oh wow, that went up quickly! All I did was put on a bandage.

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  I grabbed for the X and exited the interface.

  After throwing the bandages in the bag I walked over to the bat that was leaning up against the door. It was still bloody and covered in viscera, so I stuck it in the kitchen sink and washed it off. Rat was now pacing around the room, seemingly full of nervous energy but thankfully not limping.

  “We should go on to the next house, shouldn’t we?” I said to him. Rat trotted over to me, ready to go.

  I slung the duffle bag back over my chest, checked my shoelaces and grabbed the now clean bat. Rat and I walked over to the front door and exited the cottage, heading to the house on the left.

  I scanned the area and couldn’t find any zombies. We entered the front yard of the neighbour’s house and approached the front door. This time, with luck on our side, it was open.

  Rat ran in and I followed, closing the door behind me.

  “Can you check the coast is clear?” I said, wondering if he would understand.

  He started running through the house, sticking his head in through doors and checking under beds. I did my now-standard perimeter check, closing curtains, locking doors and windows.

  After about ten minutes of checking by us both, we confirmed that this house was empty of the dead.

  I wonder why there aren’t any in these houses. I hoped it meant that there were few zombies in the game altogether, but only time would tell if that was the case. In what was becoming a familiar pattern, we checked the rooms, looting as we went. This house was well stocked with food, tools and first-aid supplies, so we collected a decent bounty. After our initial search and settlement in the house, Rat scratched on the back door, requesting to go out. I checked the yard through the window; with no zombies in sight, I let him out. He scampered around the yard, sniffing like no tomorrow. I stayed in the doorway, watching. After a few minutes, Rat returned. Much to my astonishment, he sauntered back in the house with a ripped bunch of parsley and some small red chillis.

  “You can forage?” I asked Rat in amazement. He plopped the harvest on the floor and then walked over to my duffle bag, which I had set down by a lounge. He started pawing at it, so I opened the bag up, closed out of the menu and let him rummage. Rat quickly pulled out his stuffed bear and proceeded to sit on the lounge, chewing contentedly.

  With the evening approaching and nothing more in our bellies since lunch’s pitiful sandwich, I started cooking up something in the kitchen before darkness fell so I could see what I was doing. I took two large steaks from the fridge and began cooking. Using the ingredients to hand, I planned on making a plate of steak with a chimmichurri-style dressing on a base of mashed canned beans. I grilled up the steaks and prepared the dressing and mash in the interim.

  “Just think, Rat, this time a couple of days ago, I was having fancy fat-washed cocktails in the city. Now I’m here, cooking us both stolen steaks with dog-foraged herbs!” I said, shaking my head.

  Rat cocked his head, unsure of what I was saying.

  “Let’s stay here tonight, boy, and tomorrow we can go to more houses.”

  I plated up my meal and proceeded to slice up the plain steak for Rat, which I served to him on top of a bowl of canned dog food.

  I went over to the nearby dining table and placed down our meals, inviting Rat onto a dining chair to join me. Was it weird to have dinner at the table with a dog? Yes. Was it weirder to be trapped inside a zombie game? Yes. It’s not like anyone is going to see me.