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hadn’t talked, but Barry thought he’d have an accent if he did. Like a crazy New Zealand accent, maybe. He could quote Crocodile Dundee at will and he loved AC/DC. Otto was a fascinating guy who hadn’t uttered a word. He just stared into space.
    What if he was the cause of the chaos upstairs? Barry had watched enough M. Night Shyamalan movies to know the quiet guy in the corner was usually the killer. Or was that a Saw movie? Barry couldn’t remember, but he’d never seen a horror movie where the creepy quiet guy in the corner was really an angel or the savior with a bottle opener.
    Barry approached Otto cautiously, expecting his eyes to suddenly glow red or a giant snakelike appendage to rip from his chest and bite him. But Otto just stared into space.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” Melanie asked.
    Barry gave her the finger, not bothering to look at Melanie or her perky vegan breasts. When he got right in front of Otto he stopped and squatted down to eye level with the guy. “Bro, you all right?”
    Otto stared straight ahead, his eyes glassy. He was breathing, and the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.
    â€œI’m going to ask you questions and you can blink for the answers,” Barry said.
    â€œI’m going upstairs. Anyone want anything?” Vinnie said.
    Barry nodded but kept looking at Otto. “Can you get me more beer and see if the hot dogs are warm on the roller thing up there? I like ketchup on mine.”
    â€œGo to hell. You didn’t share with me,” Vinnie said. “I’m going to get the good beer. Be right back.”
    â€œIdiot. Anyway . . . one blink means yes and two means no. Got it?” Barry asked. He hoped Otto was in there somewhere and wanted to play along. It was like sitting in front of a living Ouija board. Or like watching C-SPAN. Or anything with Tom Cruise. Just waiting for something creepy to happen. “Let’s begin . . . is your name Otto?”
    Otto (probably not his real name) stared straight ahead and didn’t blink, even when Barry waved his hands in front of Otto’s face.
    â€œWere you bitten?”
    No blink.
    â€œWere you attacked?”
    Nothing.
    â€œDid you see people die?”
    Nada.
    â€œDo you think Melanie has nice boobs for a vegan?”
    â€œHey,” Melanie said.
    Still no blinking coming from Otto.
    â€œThis is a waste of time, right?” Barry asked.
    Otto blinked.
    â€œHoly shit. Did you blink because this is a waste of time, or because you needed to blink? Or did you blink because you’re messing with me?”
    Otto blinked again.
    Barry peppered him with miscellaneous questions for the next three minutes, like if he thought the Browns would ever have a winning record or his thoughts on LeBron or which was better: ham, turkey, and Swiss cheese or a hot pastrami sandwich.
    Otto didn’t blink again.
    â€œI’m going upstairs,” Vinnie announced.
    â€œI thought you’d left already,” Barry said. “I want more chips. Sour cream and onion, please.”
    â€œGo to hell. You didn’t share. Why should I get you anything?”
    â€œI said please,” Barry said.
    â€œSo?”
    Barry shrugged. “If you’d said please when I went up to the store I would’ve gotten you whatever you wanted. Just because life has turned completely upside down doesn’t mean we can’t be civil to one another. We might be the last people on this block. And before all this happened, most everyone living in this part of town was on drugs or drunk or dying, anyway. So there’s a really solid chance we’d be the last of the living regardless.”
    Vinnie sighed. “I’ll get you one bag. But it will be a small one.”
    â€œCan I have fruit if they have any?” Melanie asked.
    Vinnie smiled at her. “What do you have to trade for fruit?”
    Melanie smiled. “Whatever you want. I hope Barry