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towered over her. Though she knew it was dumb of her, she equated physical distance with emotional distance. Jordan had high cheekbones, a strong chin, and the cutest puppy-dog-brown eyes she’d ever seen. She’d always thought he was cute, but she’d never had the hots for him before. But seeing how he’d taken charge since the Arrival, how he did things while everyone else just sat there—including, too often, her—how everyone listened to him, as if he were a natural leader…she didn’t know if she could legitimately call what she felt for Jordan love, but it was a serious case of like, no doubt.
    She sat up, her back pitching a bitch at being forced to move after being stuck in one position so long, but she ignored it.
    “Hey,” she whispered. “What’s up?” Not something wrong, she hoped. More wrong than things already were, anyway.
    “Could you come back to the kitchen with me?”
    She couldn’t detect any hint of what he wanted. His voice was calm, his words without any particular inflection. Nevertheless, she felt a little thrill upon hearing them.
    “Sure.”
    He smiled and held out his hand to help her up. She didn’t need any help, even with her sore back, but she took his hand anyway. And after she was standing and Jordan didn’t release her hand, she made no move to take it from his gentle grip. Slowly, he led her through the maze of shadowy figures sitting silently on the floor. Some of them looked up as they passed, a few even asked what was going on, but Jordan didn’t answer and no one pressed him. As they neared the kitchen, Alice realized she was trembling, and the crotch of her underwear was damp. She’d seen movies in which people got incredibly horny in dangerous situations. Something about the stress excited them, she supposed, the knowledge that they might die any moment driving them to experience life intensely one last time. She wondered if that was what was happening now between Jordan and her. She imagined him leading her through the swinging doors and into the kitchen, turning around, grabbing her waist, pressing his mouth to hers and kissing her passionately. She imagined tasting him, feeling the wet warmth of his tongue circling hers, hearing his passionate breathing, his pelvis pressed against her, his cock growing hard…
    He escorted her through the swinging doors just as she’d pictured, but once they were on the other side, he made no move to embrace her. Instead, he let go of her hand. There were no windows in here, so she couldn’t see anything, but she heard a rustle of cloth that told her he was reaching into his pants pocket. She heard him take something out, fiddle with it for a moment, and then she heard the sound of a striking match, followed closely by the orange-white flare of flame. She squinted as light stabbed into her eyes, and she turned her face away from the burning match—
    —and that’s when she saw the body.
    Fatty’s bloated corpse lay naked atop a counter next to a cold, useless oven. He’d been cut open from chin to crotch, skin peeled back, ribs sawed away, the glistening-soft secrets that he’d carried hidden within him since before he was born now revealed in all their squishy-wet glory.
    She turned to look at Jordan. He looked suddenly shy and uncertain.
    “I know…it’s kind of gross, right? But we have to eat something . And the human body’s like, what? Ninety percent water or something? So we can get liquid from him, too.”
    Alice continued to look at Jordan for close to a full minute without speaking. When did he lure Fatty back here? How had Jordan killed and…and butchered him without anyone hearing anything? Of all the questions swirling through her mind, though, the one she asked was “Why him?”
    “Well, he’s fat, so I figured we’d get the most meat from him.” He shrugged, looking embarrassed. “Besides, he pissed me off. We have to eat him raw, though, since the ovens don’t work. And we have to eat soon so