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    “Ah Jesus,” I moaned. Gus looked up at me panting, tail still beating the air and his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. I blew out my breath, closed my eyes, and tilted my head back in relief. That’s when the panic that had been looming around me all day decided to rear its ugly head. Moaning began, all around me. My eyes snapped open and I saw the sky was suddenly dark. It’s still daylight , I thought. Got twenty minutes ‘til sundown. Sweat beaded my forehead, my arms began to shake, and I couldn’t breathe. I looked for Gus and found him at my feet. He was snarling.
    “No, no this isn’t real,” I told myself. I lowered my rifle and pointed the barrel at Gus as I starting to back-peddle. The moaning was getting louder, beating and grinding in my head like glass. I dropped to my knees, suffocating, and the gun slipped from my sweaty palms. I think Gus realized what was happening to me because at that moment he started barking. Not that yippy noise most house-dogs make, but the long baying of a hound. I jumped; it felt like I was being shaken from a dream, and looked up at Gus. He took this as his cue to run over and lick my face. The shaking subsided, as did the zombie moans (which weren’t real to begin with). I took a deep breath and patted my friend on the head.
    “Don’t let me do that again, or you’ll be on your own. Got it?” I told him, my voice trembling more than I would have liked. He answered me by licking his chops and sitting down.
    I shook my head and stood slowly, deciding to abandon the barn. Gus was right, there was nothing back there and nothing as far as I could see in the pasture. Shaken up but once again in control, we walked back to the house just as the sun began to set behind the hills.
     
    * * *
     
    The light on the answering machine was blinking when I walked back into the kitchen. I hit the button, suddenly frozen in place wondering who had called. Ben. I rubbed my forehead and went about making a pot of coffee. His message wasn’t frantic, just letting me know they were at the farm and to call him as soon as I got his message. I figured I had time to at least put on a pot of Joe before he started freaking out. It wouldn’t be the first time I would figure something wrong.
    “Kasey Stratford, where the hell have you been?! I called and you didn’t answer, what’s wrong?!” He was obviously hysterical.
    “Take it easy, nothing’s wrong. I’m fine. I just did some patrolling outside. Calm down okay? I’m fine. And don’t ever last-name me again, you’re not my mother.” I took a cup from the cupboard and walked over to the coffee pot.
    “Well how was I supposed to know that?! With everything that’s going on, you knew damn well I would have been worried sick if you hadn’t answered the phone.”
    “Are you mad?” I smiled and tried very hard not to laugh.
    He sighed and was quiet a moment. “No, just exhausted,” he finally answered. “How are things there? Still no sign of them?”
    “Basically,” I said, a wave of nausea hitting me as I recalled my neighbor’s demise. I stared at the coffee as it dribbled into the pot.
    “Basically what? Basically good, or are you just avoiding the question?”
    “Well thank you, Captain Obvious, I wasn’t aware of that. And yes, things are as fine as can be expected here. And yes, I’ve seen one. But it’s been taken care of.”
    His voice softened, knowing my sarcasm was an old mechanism I always used just before “going into the woods.”
    “I’m sorry, just take it easy okay? Put on some coffee, listen to some tunes, and relax. This would be a very bad time for you to shut down and fold.”
    I chuckled as I poured myself a cup, thinking about how well he knew me even though we had never even seen each other face to face. Believe it or not, people can grow quite close only conversing online and by phone. I had known him for roughly six years now, first meeting him in a horror movie chat