The answer was a slow, soft knocking.
“Who is it!?”
She had seen the news reports; the apartment was locked up tight. Rob had gone to work that morning, but she was expecting him any minute.
The slow knocking continued. She was getting scared: what if it wasn’t him, what if it was a zombie?
She went and got the handgun from the closet, loaded it. What if it was Rob, and Rob was a zombie? She crept slowly back into the living room. “Rob?”
The door was already open. She glanced nervously around.