“Anyway,” Andrews said, “Some of them came into Nahom and they hurt one of the children. Began beating him, and pretty badly too, until a few of the town’s menfolk saw what was happening and stopped it. We kept watches then, each night for a week, but none came back.”

“But they did eventually?” Elliot said.

“Oh, yes. Quite a lot of them. You could almost say they laid siege to us. Perhaps fifty, maybe more, gathered on the ridge to the north of Nahom and waited. We sent men up to talk but they were chased off. The zombies aren’t friendly, not at all.”

“Did they attack? I mean attack the town?” Elliot asked, as he and the rest of the party ascended a small hill. He was panting now, exhausted physically from the events of the past several hours, but also, and more deeply, emotionally. He needed to see Evajean and this conversation, this game of what he was sure was information hiding with Andrews was only to take his mind off how how much he wanted to lay eyes upon her, hold her close, and then sleep.

“The following morning, they did. Just as the sun came up, a few dozen of the zombies came down that ridge, screaming and charging like red indians. I wasn’t there,” he added, “but that’s what those who were told me. We had a mighty brawl but the zombies don’t fight terribly good and we were able to turn them back without any deaths. Not like this time.” He trailed off and they walked in silence for a while.

The woods had grown very cold, though Elliot wasn’t sure how much of that was from finally having the luxury to notice the chill. They walked for at least a couple of miles, through terrain that was now familiar: dense trees, moist soil, low vegetation, and copious mosses. There was the smell of forest, heavier than what he remembered from his childhood out west. The woods felt unchanged for ages. The other men in the party were quite, with no minor conversations to pass the time. Rather they stared ahead, concentrating on the hike, many burdened by the bodies of their fellows who’d been killed in the fight. Elliot felt both scared by these men and sorry for them; scared because of their alien sternness and somewhat creepy ways, but sorry for the sacrifice they’d made to save him. Why had they done that? Was it merely at the request of Evajean–for he assumed she’d sent them out to look for him–or was there something else, something hiding in the omissions in what Andrews had told him?

It was too late tonight to find any of that out, he decided. Best to wait until morning, when he could think on it with a clear head unencumbered by this night’s madness. A bed was what he needed and Elliot imagined what it would be like to slip between sheets and blankets, to lay his head on a soft pillow and let the weariness that had invaded him completely win for several hours.

“Is it far?” he asked, trying not to make the quest sound like a complaint.

“Only have a mile or a little more.” Andrews laughed. “And then you can sleep. Not far, but everything seems a lot more when you’re in the woods.”

“It sure does,” Elliot said and stomped along behind the men, letting the jarring impact of each step keep him nominally awake.

“You’ve lost people too in this?” Andrews asked some time later.

Elliot blinked, then stared forward.

“To the disease?” Andrews added.

“We all have,” Elliot said.

“But family? Was anyone dear to you afflicted?”

“My wife. And my daughter.” Why was he telling this man about Clarine and Callie? The distrust was still present and still strong, and it felt somehow damaging to their memory to be bringing up their names in this violent crowd, no matter if the men had saved him. Callie and Clarine didn’t need to be here, not in this place.

“I’m sorry,” Andrews said. “I lost a wife myself. I can’t imagine what it must be like with– to have lost a child, too.”

Elliot nodded. It was, in fact, still difficult for him to imagine fully.

“This is still painful for you, I see that,” Andrews said. “I apologize for bringing it up. We should be in Nahom presently, just over this hill up ahead. It is a beautiful place and you can rest safely there.”

“That will be wonderful,” Elliot said, giving full emphasis to each word. The talk of Callie and Clarine and the thought of going up another hill drove the exhaustion deeper into his core. He didn’t know if he could make it.

But he did. Eventually they were over the ridge and he saw the lights of tiny Nahom spreading out beneath them like a sparking picnic blanket left at the bottom of the valley. A hundred and forty people seemed a lot for so small a place, more an encampment than an actual town. He heard the breathing of the men around him relax and their pace improved, enthusiasm for home carrying them forward.

Elliot let them fall away from him, content to stand a moment at the top of the hill and watch this mundane scene. How long had it been since he’d seen the twinkling lights of human habitation, the normalcy of that simple sight? Months? Since the power was turned off and the world had felt entirely dead. And that had been– He didn’t know, but a long time.

Andrews turned back and saw him still on the ridge. He trudged up and put his hand on Elliot’s back. “Come down,” he said. “Evajean is safe. You can see her. And then we’ll get you something to eat and a soft bed. What to do next–Evajean has told us something of your plans–can wait until morning. For now, there’s just this one short descent remaining.” And then he jogged away, towards Nahom, and Elliot after a moment followed.