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which means people on the ground shooting at normal people. And three, skipping all that. Skipping the napalm runs and tanks, they would jump to conclusions and use nukes to wipe everything out while they hide in their mountain hideouts.” The buzzing phone broke the silence.
    Erica picked up the phone and read aloud, “‘ Come on down. We’ll have a party. Sending you the directions. Hope to see you soon. Namaste. -Phoenix. ’ The place is in Glasgow, Kentucky. Who the hell is this guy? What was Frank into?” Erica asked.
    “Guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

Devin’s Neighborhood
    Chapter 11
    Monday 1245 CST
    Memphis
    “A re we going to your house?” Erica asked. Ever since her attack, she just wanted to sit in a shower and cry, but she put on a brave face for Devin. She knew he was scared and he didn’t want to show it.
    “Yeah, I want to grab some stuff. We need to put fuel in the truck anyway. I want to make sure my folks are all right.”
    “You live with your parents?” Erica had never asked Devin about his life or past. Ever since he began to work at the junkyard, he had kept to himself. He would let out a chuckle or a random “good morning.” But he never indulged about his life. “Yeah, I moved back in with them a couple of years ago after I got out,” Devin responded.
    “What did you get out of?”
    Devin just had a one-word answer. “Prison.”
    Erica gazed at him with a wide-eyed look. “Well, c’mon, what did you do to get into prison?” Erica wanted to keep him talking. His voice was the only thing keeping her calm.
    “I’ll tell you later. We’re almost there,” Devin said as he ran the passenger side of the truck onto the sidewalk to avoid a burning car.
    “When we get there, we’re going to jump out and run to the door, OK?” Erica nodded in agreement. “Get ready, we’re coming up on the house. Oh fuck! Hang on!” Devin shouted as he flattened a small child covered in blood.
    Devin’s house was situated in an old part of the town. Everyone kept to themselves. In the last twelve hours, Devin’s neighborhood had become a battlefield. As Devin turned his head left, he saw a house on fire. Coming out of the burning house was the silhouette of a man, Mr. Helms. He was chasing a woman and her small child, still clad in their pajamas. Devin followed them with his eyes toward the front of the truck; there they were met with a creature, Harold. Standing there in his boxers, arms outreached as if he were giving a hug. The woman and child were looking at the flaming creature chasing after them and to the semi-naked one in front of them. They had no foreshadowing of Harold or what used to be Harold, reaching out for them. Harold sank his teeth into the woman in the pajamas. Her daughter was standing there in horror as the Harold-creature began to feast on her mother. “Hey! Kid! Run away! C’mere!” The young child stood there in shock as Devin motioned for the girl to get in the truck with them. She stood there as the Harold-creature had his fill of her mother.
    As the child stared in dismay at the Harold-creature feasted on her mother, Erica watched as the burning Mr. Helms fell to the ground and stopped moving. “Kid! Get in the truck!” Devin shouted out of the cracked window. The child in her pajamas just stood there clutching her stuffed panda. As if it was in slow motion, she turned her head to look at the truck; her eyes met Devin’s in fear. Without expelling a cry, a pair of hands pulled the child down to the ground. It was her mother or what used to be her mother. Her mother had become pale with blood loss. She held onto her child as the Harold-creature continued to eat her from the right shoulder. “Fuck this!” Devin said as he revved the truck engine over the makeshift Thanksgiving feast including the burning man. “What the hell?” Erica shouted as she held on to the handle and braced her foot against the dashboard. With a crunch under each of the axles