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past his friends, pushed her way past the woman, and went into the cabin.
    “Where do you think you’re going?” The woman asked.
    Emily ignored her and darted inside. She looked suspiciously around the room. Her couch was in the same spot against the left wall. Her tiny living room was now full of backpacks and guns, but seemed to be generally unharmed. The bathroom and two bedrooms were straight ahead, at the back of the cabin, and she would get to those shortly. To her right, her kitchen was just as clean and empty as it had been since she left, although the twin barstools had been moved to the living room. Obviously, someone had been having a pow-wow in there and needed more seating options.
    She heard arguing coming from outside, but ignored it. Emily hurried to the back of her cabin and peeked in the bedrooms. The bed in each room had been slept in and there were backpacks and clothes on the floors, but she didn’t care. Her laptop was still there, unharmed, and her notebooks were still on the shelf.
    She may have lost her sister, but at least her stories were okay. She realized with just how shitty that really was, but it was the truth. She had nothing else to live for but her writing. Even that would never be read by anyone.
    Part of her wondered whether it was even worth it to write anymore. Probably not.
    Emily went back to the living room. The voices were louder now and more determined. The woman was screeching that she couldn’t believe someone called Neil had just let Emily come inside. Neil must have been the one kissing her.
    She grabbed one of the guns from the living room and, after making sure it was loaded, headed outside. If these guys thought they could just barge in and take her house, they had another thing coming. She lifted the gun and took a deep breath at the door. She was a strong, independent woman and she could defend her property. Yeah, the gun was a bit pathetic and her hands were shaking a little, but she could do this.
    In reality, they would probably kill her or capture her and rape her, but she had to try. She wouldn’t sit idly by and let these criminals take over her house. This was her place. She had worked her ass off to lead the life she did.
    Yes, her little garden was a bit weedy and pathetic. She’d spent more time penning her latest romance novel than she had weeding. Sometimes when she got caught up in characterization or development, she forgot to do the little things. Like garden.
    Still, Emily’s place was nice. It was home. It was her haven.
    She hopped out the door and frowned. The group had been talking, but they suddenly went silent. Five set of eyes turned and stared at her, unblinking. Emily heard a cricket chirp.
    She raised her gun and pointed it at the man who had kissed her.
    “Get. Out.” She held her hand steady, trying not to shake. She had never killed a person in cold blood before, but they didn’t have to know that. These were trespassers, and state law said she could shoot them. Granted, there wasn’t much of a government anymore and these folks probably didn’t know anything about local laws, but still.
    She had every right to get them off her land. They needed to leave and they needed to leave now .
    “Get off my land,” she repeated. This time her voice audibly wavered, and she felt a pang of disgust shoot through her. What was wrong with her? She had just killed her sister and her sister’s best friend and she actually felt bad for threatening this guy?
    The five people just stared at her. Finally, the big guy with the scar started laughing. His chuckle filled the quiet air and soon everyone was joining him.
    Everyone that is, but Emily.
    “Hey! I’m serious,” she said as harshly as she could. Why were they laughing? She could be a badass. They didn’t know. She had killed two would-be Infected and plenty of actual Infected and the last thing she needed was their crap. Not today. Not on her watch.
    “Sweetheart, you couldn’t kill him