Columbus was thankful Tallahassee knew enough about weather to get them to a town just before the dark clouds unleashed their arsenal of hail upon them.

The were lucky to have even reached a town, but Columbus would have preferred one that had more than one house left standing and undamaged. The previous owner (He thinks. The rotted meat lump is wearing old lady clothes, and there are the type of puffy white flowers in flower beds around the porch that old ladies enjoy, and so shoot him for stereotyping.) is rotting in the driveway, and probably won't mind them making use of her home.

As they head inside, Columbus has to wonder why this is the only place left standing. Tallahassee called dibs on clearing the house of any possible zombie cling-on parties, and practically skipped out of the kitchen, leaving him behind in the kitchen. Well.. Skipping as far as Tallahassee skips, which is more of a growling-serious-manly-stalk. But who cares really?

Columbus doesn't bother with checking the rest of the house. Tallahassee's already on it, and he's got food to sort through. After a while, he comes up with several type of boxed dinners that look like they might actually have some flavor left in them. He thinks is Christmas all over again when he finds some canned ravioli.

"The place is clear," Tallahassee calls out from the other room, not bothering to hide the disappointment in his voice.

"Remember, that's a g-good.. Th-thing.." Columbus stutters to a halt as he steps into the living room for the first time. On the mantle, the table, in special display cases, on shelves.. Everywhere.. All staring at him with the same creepy, empty eyes.

Dolls.

Columbus's eyes widen a fraction and he tenses, creeped out by the dolls beyond measure already. Swallowing nervously, his fear mingling with the saliva in his mouth on its way to form a cold pit in his stomach, he looks around.

"Right." Tallahassee rubs his face and flops out in a chair. Columbus stared at the dolls some more. In no time, Tallahassee was fast asleep, napping in a chair.

By this point, he knew better than to ask about the pile of dolls that were heaped up next to the rotting meat in the driveway when he woke up.