person had once been a man in his fifties with a button-up work shirt and dusty, blood-drenched jeans. Dan pegged him for a farmer or factory worker from town. Although it was possible Meredith had known him, she hadn't mentioned anything, and Dan hadn't pressed the issue. Dan and John had offered to remove the bodies while she stayed inside.
It was bad enough watching the world disintegrate, but it was worse when the afflicted were people you had known. He'd told her to keep a close eye on Quinn and Tim.
The mid-morning sun streamed down from above. Dan blinked the sweat from his eyes.
"How bad is it in town?" he asked John.
"There are still a lot of them. But they seem slower."
"I'm hoping they'll all end up like these."
Dan glanced down at the dead infected they were carrying, recalling how lethargic it'd been, and John nodded. They shuffled sideways until they'd reached the edge of the property. A patch of dirt marked the grave where they'd buried the infected over the past few days. They'd left a shovel nearby.
Dan started digging.
"I appreciate you going to town like that," he said. "I was worried about Quinn."
"It's the least I can do. She's a good kid."
Dan smiled with pride. "She sure is. What do you think of Tim?"
"He seems nice. He was awfully upset about the survivor we lost in town. Meredith and I caught a glimpse of what happened to the girl. It wasn't pretty. Those things were all over her, man—there wasn't much left when we got there."
"Does he seem stable?"
Dan set down his shovel, meeting John's eyes.
"I think so," John replied. "But I mean, how stable are any of us, really?"
Dan sighed. "This whole thing is enough to break anybody. I told Meredith to keep alert, just in case. He seems nice, but you can never be too careful. How about you, John? How are you coping?"
"Some days I feel fine, but other days I sit back and think about all of it…and it's almost more than I can handle, you know?"
"I know the feeling."
"I keep hoping I'll wake up one morning and things will be different."
"Me too. But they'll get better. They have to. Once we can get out of here, we'll find help. I'm confident it's out there. We just have to wait for the right time to leave."
"I agree."
"Once those things die out, we'll get the hell out of here."
With the hole dug, the men hoisted the body into the grave, then shoveled dirt on top of it. They returned to the backyard, repeating the process two more times. When the last infected had been buried, Dan speared the shovel into the ground next to the shallow graves and stopped to catch his breath.
John gazed at the burial plots.
"Do you want to say anything?" Dan asked.
"No." John shook his head. "Whatever was left of these people died a long time ago."
Dan agreed. Without another word, they departed for the house.
Chapter Ten
Keller lay on the bed with his eyes closed, pretending he was asleep. After all the things he'd seen and done, he should've been tired, but instead, he was wide awake. His brain felt like it was on fast forward.
Meredith and Quinn's voices wafted in from the other room. It took every ounce of control he had not to go out and take advantage of them. He envisioned the stash of weapons he'd seen on the counter, the piles of neatly organized provisions next to them.
In a matter of seconds, he could have a weapon in his hand, and he could be shooting them or slitting one of their throats. He was confident he could overpower them. That wasn't the issue. The problem was the men outside. Once they heard the commotion, they'd come running. He could probably stave them off for a while, giving him time to do what he wanted, but there was a risk he wouldn't get out alive.
The smartest move was to bide his time. That way he could arrange scenarios that were new and exciting—things he hadn't already done.
He thought of the girl he'd killed in town. They'd bought his story about her. The only regret he had was leaving his
It was bad enough watching the world disintegrate, but it was worse when the afflicted were people you had known. He'd told her to keep a close eye on Quinn and Tim.
The mid-morning sun streamed down from above. Dan blinked the sweat from his eyes.
"How bad is it in town?" he asked John.
"There are still a lot of them. But they seem slower."
"I'm hoping they'll all end up like these."
Dan glanced down at the dead infected they were carrying, recalling how lethargic it'd been, and John nodded. They shuffled sideways until they'd reached the edge of the property. A patch of dirt marked the grave where they'd buried the infected over the past few days. They'd left a shovel nearby.
Dan started digging.
"I appreciate you going to town like that," he said. "I was worried about Quinn."
"It's the least I can do. She's a good kid."
Dan smiled with pride. "She sure is. What do you think of Tim?"
"He seems nice. He was awfully upset about the survivor we lost in town. Meredith and I caught a glimpse of what happened to the girl. It wasn't pretty. Those things were all over her, man—there wasn't much left when we got there."
"Does he seem stable?"
Dan set down his shovel, meeting John's eyes.
"I think so," John replied. "But I mean, how stable are any of us, really?"
Dan sighed. "This whole thing is enough to break anybody. I told Meredith to keep alert, just in case. He seems nice, but you can never be too careful. How about you, John? How are you coping?"
"Some days I feel fine, but other days I sit back and think about all of it…and it's almost more than I can handle, you know?"
"I know the feeling."
"I keep hoping I'll wake up one morning and things will be different."
"Me too. But they'll get better. They have to. Once we can get out of here, we'll find help. I'm confident it's out there. We just have to wait for the right time to leave."
"I agree."
"Once those things die out, we'll get the hell out of here."
With the hole dug, the men hoisted the body into the grave, then shoveled dirt on top of it. They returned to the backyard, repeating the process two more times. When the last infected had been buried, Dan speared the shovel into the ground next to the shallow graves and stopped to catch his breath.
John gazed at the burial plots.
"Do you want to say anything?" Dan asked.
"No." John shook his head. "Whatever was left of these people died a long time ago."
Dan agreed. Without another word, they departed for the house.
Chapter Ten
Keller lay on the bed with his eyes closed, pretending he was asleep. After all the things he'd seen and done, he should've been tired, but instead, he was wide awake. His brain felt like it was on fast forward.
Meredith and Quinn's voices wafted in from the other room. It took every ounce of control he had not to go out and take advantage of them. He envisioned the stash of weapons he'd seen on the counter, the piles of neatly organized provisions next to them.
In a matter of seconds, he could have a weapon in his hand, and he could be shooting them or slitting one of their throats. He was confident he could overpower them. That wasn't the issue. The problem was the men outside. Once they heard the commotion, they'd come running. He could probably stave them off for a while, giving him time to do what he wanted, but there was a risk he wouldn't get out alive.
The smartest move was to bide his time. That way he could arrange scenarios that were new and exciting—things he hadn't already done.
He thought of the girl he'd killed in town. They'd bought his story about her. The only regret he had was leaving his
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