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Kirby watched the masked group turn down a side street. “I don’t think it’ll last.”

We didn’t know that for sure. Not yet. We might be competing for dwindling resources soon—or the government could step in, if it hadn’t already been overwhelmed.

I adjusted the strap of the duffle bag over my shoulder and gripped the pipe wrench.

Together we hurried across the road, keeping an eye on the dead as we left the hardware store behind us.

Seven

ava

Iclutched the nail gun and stood in the driveway of the first house we’d chosen, with Luke and Kirby flanking me.

We’d stashed the rest of our gear in the front yard, shoving the duffle bags and backpacks under a tangle of bushes overrun with weeds.

“You remember how to work that thing?” Luke asked, our unofficial safety officer.

“How could I forget when your demonstration was so thorough?”

He slid me a smile. Each time he looked at me, his attention lingered, and the sweet pull in my stomach came soon afterward.

“Well, I wasn’t listening.” Kirby stood shoulder to shoulder with me, axe raised. “How does it work again?”

“Just point and fire and hope for the best,” I said.

“No.” Luke let out a heavy breath. “It needs to be pressed against something for the nail to release. We’ve been through this.”

I bit back a smile and kept my attention on the house. “I’m messing with you.”

“Me too,” Kirby said, “because it’s just so easy.”

We hovered at the end of the driveway in front of a red SUV covered in a film of dust—the only visible car on the entire block.

The house was pale blue weatherboard with white trim, the paint peeling everywhere except for one side that had been sanded clean.

Forgotten catalogues were jammed in the letterbox, and one lay open on the footpath, a page lifting in the breeze.

The stillness should have put my mind at ease, but the muscles between my shoulders pulled tight.

“Ready?” I asked.

Luke scanned up and down the street one more time. “Good to go.”

A dog barked nearby as Kirby headed down the driveway first, taking careful steps. I followed close behind her, checking the vehicle’s interior as we passed through the carport. There were no bags or suitcases inside, nothing to suggest they’d just arrived or were getting ready to leave.

“You know we’re more likely to find a normal dead body than a moving one, right?” I whispered.

“What makes you say that?” Luke asked near my shoulder.

“The catalogues.” I stepped over a broken, raised piece of concrete with scraggly weeds poking through. “They’ve been there a while. Before people started turning.”

A pause followed, then he answered, “Right. Good point.”

Kirby reached the first side window and stopped, axe dangling from her hand. “I saw a dead body once that had been out in the open for weeks. It’s… not pretty.”

“Do we even want to know the story behind that?” I wiped the condensation off the window and peered through the smudged glass. A mug sat on the dining table, and a chair had been pushed out halfway as if someone had just got up.

“Missing hiker,” Kirby whispered. “I found him.”