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it through the wind and rumbling thunder.
    I brought her into the bedroom and allowed her to lie on my bed. Picking up the abused comforter from its resting place, I placed it over her, awkwardly. I was no mother, no caring father. I didn’t know how to console the dying or aid the sick.
    Clearing my throat, I looked out the window—a distraction from the situation at hand. The sight that greeted me was no better. A little girl stared back from the building next door. Tiny, bloody hands clawed at her shut window, white eyes gazing at me hungrily. I tugged at the cord on the blinds until they gave way, shutting the disturbing image from Gabe’s view.
    “Why did you do that to me?” Gabe’s hoarse voice barely stood out from the howling wind outside. “Never mind. I don’t care. It’s over now. I don’t have anywhere safe to go.”
    It’s over now? Who says? I realized Gabe handled the entire me throwing her off a balcony thing a bit too lightly. This brought into question her past, and what she was doing before she came to me. If she were hiding something from me, it would certainly make sense to grit her teeth and bear my lunacy.
    Maybe she wasn’t the tough girl she made herself out to be. She did say she didn’t have anywhere else to go, and in a world like this… Well, I imagined a person could put up with a lot if it meant they weren’t being eaten alive.
    It wasn’t going to be safe here for long. We’d be able to stay inside the apartment for as long as we wanted, but eventually we’d have to leave for supplies. There might be too many of them to even do that. The word “trapped” sprung into my mind.
    You’re not safe and it’s your fault , I thought. While easy to blame Gabe for being loud and drawing Zs, my actions were what caused the developing problem. How could I have been so careless and let my anger take control? Every minute, another handful of stiffs were coming around the corner because I lost my cool. Any chance of safely escaping the apartment had vanished.
    I clenched my jaw and stopped scolding myself. What happened happened. Nothing I could do about.
    Then there was Francis. I wanted to wait for him, of course, but it was becoming less rational by the day. If there was one person I was willing to wait for, that I wanted to fight the apocalypse with, it was Francis Bordeaux. Gabe showing up distracted me for a while, but now my mind was back on Frank. Was he coming? Should I even bother waiting?
    Gabe mentioning somewhere safe to stay challenged my notion of how safe I really was. I thought of the little girl next door, vacant face staring into the room, or the mass of undead gathering below. I thought of my one friend in the world and wondered how safe he was.
    Keeping Gabe in my apartment was the second most human thing I’d done in my life. The first being the fifteen days I spent in the Peace Corps. Helping people for nothing in return except gratitude didn’t work for me. I thought it would be a ‘life changing’ experience like the testimonials said. After that I gave up on being normal.
    A sinking feeling in my stomach told me keeping Gabe was a huge, awful mistake. It reflected poorly on my character. Why didn’t I just leave her there? Why didn’t I kill her? What about this barely adult girl captivated me? I looked back down at her. Her face was sweaty and pale, her lips chapped and flaky.
    I turned around, eager to leave her to her own thoughts and pains, but she grabbed for me, her fingers brushing against my leg. I caught the gaze of her deep blue eyes. I noted the sore, deep bruises from the ropes that had snaked around her wrists.
    “We can’t stay here. There are too many of them,” she said. “There are hundreds. We need to leave soon.”
    “I know. Once you’re feeling better we’re going to pack up and find Frank.”
    “Frank? You’re not still considering that, are you?”
    My compassion for her vanished. “Yeah, I am. We can leave and look for him