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luck. “It's... it's like he protected me,” I said, tears welling in my eyes. “He protected me.”
     
    “Oh thank God,” said Jen, relieved. “I thought you were a goner.” She stood still for a moment, looking at me. “I can't make it without you,” she said quietly, starting to cry too. I opened my arms and she rushed in and squeezed me fiercely. “Don't die,” she whispered. “I need you.”
     
    I took a deep breath and pushed her back, holding her arms at the shoulders. “Let's both not die.” Jen smiled at that and nodded.
     
    “Sounds like a plan,” she said.
     
    “Speaking of plans,” I said, “things are a lot more complicated with zombies around.” I thought for a moment. “We can keep walking, we can try for the truck again, we can camp on the ground, we can try to make a place up a tree.” I paused. “Anything I missed?”
     
    “Maybe we could find an abandoned car?” added Jen. I thought about that. “We could go back to that rental place and hide inside or in a truck,” she added.
     
    “I like that idea, except that's back where the zombies came from,” I said.
     
    She gestured to the zombies on the ground behind her. “Not much better out here.”
     
    “Good point,” I agreed. I looked around, trying to get my bearings. “I'm pretty turned around,” I said. “Do you know which way is which?”
     
    Jen shook her head. “No.”
     
    “Okay, here's the plan. We need to go back and get my pack anyway, so we head back to the rental place.” I opened a pocket on my waist pack and pulled out an orange whistle on a lanyard. I shined the light on it and turned in a circle, checking the tiny compass on the top. I pointed forward and left. “That's North, toward home.” I pointed in the opposite direction. “That's South, toward the rental place.”
     
    I opened another pocket and removed a small flashlight that was made to look like a shotgun shell. “Take this,” I said, handing it to her. “And the whistle.” I unwound its lanyard and put it over her neck. “It's also a compass and it has some matches inside. Just twist the compass off. There's also a striker in there for the matches since they aren't the strike-anywhere type.”
     
    “All right,” she said. I also handed her the survival rifle and a bunch of shells and rounds from my pocket. I switched out the magazines for my Shield, holstered it and started reloading the nearly empty magazine.
     
    “I'm going to have to become a better shot,” I said. “Half a dozen rounds to put down a single zombie won't cut it for long.”
     
    Jen looked like she was about to break out in tears. “How long is it going to be like this?” she asked in a vulnerable voice.
     
    A long time. Maybe always.
     
    “I don't know,” I said, honestly. “Plan for the worst, hope for the best.” My dad used to say that. I turned and began leading the way South. A light switched on behind me.
     
    “You...” I started to say, but stopped.
     
    “What?” asked Jen.
     
    “Nothing,” I said. “I was going to say you should leave the light off for now, but actually it doesn't matter, and it probably helps you to see where you're stepping.”
     
    “Thank you,” said Jen.
     
    “For what?”
     
    “Trusting me.”
     
    I didn't really think of it that way. “Sure,” I said, not knowing what else to say.
     
    We pushed on through the brush. It thinned out a bit and I could see that the terrain dropped down. I decided to risk my tactical XT11 flashlight and pulled it from a pocket, switched it on and shined it down. We were at a small river. I switched it back off and turned right.
     
    “I don't remember that river,” said Jen.
     
    “The road going towards the convenience store crosses it,” I said. “We're almost there.” I switched the big light on again. “I'm going to use the big light. If that crazy guy, whatshisname...”
     
    “Richard,” supplied Jen.
     
    “Right, Richard, is around, he won't know