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didn’t get her to a warm place soon, she would freeze to death. I found a deserted car with the keys in it, but the engine wouldn’t turn over, and I was no mechanic. I knew a little and fussed under the hood but it did little good. I opened the back door and gently set Claire inside. Her entire body shivered, and I knew she was losing heat at a dangerous rate.
    “Don’t leave me,” she said, her voice slurred. “I-I don’t wanna die alone.”
    “Nobody’s gonna die on my watch, Claire,” I said.
    “Dean, please don’t go.”
    I knew she would be easy prey for any zombie straggler, and I had to hurry and find shelter quickly. I kissed her forehead. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
    “I’m so tired,” she whispered. “I’m gonna close my eyes, just till you get back.”
    I noticed that her breathing was very slow and shallow, and when I felt her pulse, it was quite weak. I knew I was losing her; Claire wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer. I hated to leave her, but it was a tough, life-or-death decision I had to make. I took a deep breath, slammed the door, and hurried off as fast as I could through the snow drifts, knowing her life depended on me.
    I scouted house after house but couldn’t find one with a fireplace. I’d found a pile of wood in one of the basements, along with a lighter and even a tiny bit of kerosene. It’d be enough to get a fire going, if only I could find a fireplace. I gathered the supplies and kept looking. Finally, I happened upon a ranch-style house, and when I opened the front door, I sighed in relief at the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen: a huge, stone fireplace. I secured the house, found a few jugs of water, and double-checked for zombies, glad to find that it was all clear.
    It was pretty easy to get a blazing fire going. I grabbed a blanket off one of the beds and put it in front of the fire so it would get warm and toasty. I then trekked back to the car where I’d left Claire, gathered her up, and carried her to our newfound sanctuary.
    When I set her down on a leather chair in front of the fire and wrapped her in the warm blanket, she trembled. “Wh-where did you find an electric blanket? Or electric, for that matter?” she joked.
    I chuckled. “I just set it in front of the fire.”
    “You’re so smart. That’s what I love about you. I know you fought hard back there. I can tell by your clothes. You’re covered in zombie guts. I just wish I woulda been there to help you.”
    “It’s okay,” I said. “We’re all survivors. We fight to stay alive.” I gave her a few sips of water in a blue glass from one of the jugs I found. She didn’t want much because it was so cold, so I let the water sit by the fire for a while. “I’m gonna search the bedrooms and hunt for some dry clothes,” I said.
    “Okay. Thanks,” she whispered.
    I searched several drawers and closets. Everything smelled musty, but at that stage of the game, considering what our nostrils had been put through, smells really didn’t matter. With a most interesting ensemble in hand, I hurried back into the living room. “I found you an outfit,” I said. “You’ve gotta get out of those wet clothes.” When I pulled her boots off, water spilled out of them.
    “My feet are numb,” she said. “I think everything is.”
    I helped her slip her soaking-wet coat off. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you warmed up. We just have to get you dry and snuggled up in all these blankets.”
    Her teeth chattered as she reached for the clothes I’d found. “Thanks, Dean. If you can just turn the other way, I’ll get dressed.”
    “I’ll go look for supplies,” I said. “We need to dress that wound. Besides, I need to get into some dry clothes myself.”
    “All right. Try to find something stylish,” she teased.
    I walked down the hall and checked the bathroom for useful medical supplies. There wasn’t much, other than some alcohol and a few strips of gauze. When I shut the medicine