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dull white of ribs poking out from the thing’s side. Half the creature’s face had rotted away, exposing teeth that were black with decay.
    Napro found himself trying to remember who this person might have been, but nothing came to him. He wondered if his mind had frozen in fear, halted any rational thought. He looked from face to face, searching for any indication of familiarity.
    Gel grabbed his arm, tugged it. “We have to go, Father,” he said, his voice much calmer than he had imagined it would be.
    The distance between them and the zombies was closing, despite the living dead’s painfully slow movements.
    “ Father!”
    Napro looked at his son, blinking in surprise as though just woken from a deep dream. Together, they turned and fled, Gel stopping only long enough to scoop up his spear as they passed it hidden in a patch of tall grass.
    Racing back to the cave, it occurred to Napro that Fee must have been right when he proclaimed anger from the gods. Though this seemed more than just anger; this was flat-out vengeance. But for what?
    They reached the cave even faster than they had the previous day when they’d been dodging those strange rocks falling from the sky. Bent over, hands on knees and panting, they did not immediately notice the alarmed looks on both Fee’s and Zic’s faces.
    When Napro finally looked up at them, he suspected the worst. “Teva and Rani?” he said.
    “ Gathering,” Zic replied with a frown. Of course her father should know where her mother and sister were. After all, he had been the one to send them to their morning tasks.
    Before Napro could reply, Gel was already running back out into the day, his spear at the ready. Napro screamed at him to stop, but the boy ignored the command and disappeared behind a stand of thick pines.
    Fee came to stand beside Napro. “What is happening?”
    “ The gods,” Napro said. “They have cursed us and this place.”
    Puzzled, Fee asked, “What do you mean?”
    “ The dead have been brought back to life. I saw… I saw my daughter.”
    “ You saw Arbu?” Zic asked, her voice more excited than frightened. “Where?”
    Napro glanced down at his little one, his eyes full of pain. Then, to Fee: “Keep her here.”
    “ Of course, but—”
    “ I have to find my children,” Napro said. He began searching the cave frantically for another spear. He knew they had several, but most had broken during one hunt or another. But a broken spear would be better than no weapon at all.
    He chose what appeared to be the sturdiest, handing another to Fee. “Protect my child,” he said and raced out of the cave in pursuit his family.
    Legs pumping, his long tangles of hair blowing wildly, he flew over downed trees while simultaneously dodging others. He knew his forest, his land. He had lived here his entire life, as had his father before him had. He didn’t remember seeing his father among the dead, but the man had been gone from this world for so long that identifying him now would have been impossible.
    A woman screamed and he altered his direction just slightly, aiming in the direction the scream had come from. He heard Gel yell and increased his pace. He was running at his top speed when he tripped over one of the angry gods stones and, for a moment, was airborne before he came crashing back down to earth, landing hard on his chest. He felt the air whoosh out of his lungs and thought he heard a crack as well.
    No matter.
    He scrambled to his feet and continued on, his pace only slightly slowed.
    The screaming came again—almost there. Just through that next wall of underbrush…
    He burst through it, not feeling the thorns and branches that raked his skin, drawing thin lines of blood over several parts of his legs, face, arms and chest.
    Gel stood in front of the female members of his clan, jabbing his spear at what seemed to be the most aggressive of the walking dead: a man, judging by his build, but there was no genitalia to tell for certain.