I don't walk very far before I stop. I am a despicable human being. I'm letting some little girl starve to death.

But he was lying. Don't forget, he was lying. He was lying so he could lure you to his hideout where all his horny friends are and something bad would happen to you. He was lying. Right?

Ugh. So I turn around and follow him. It takes me a little while to find him again. Basically all I had to do was go back to the stump he sat on, and follow the trail of crushed underbrush.

It worked, too, because pretty soon, I'm watching him from a distance.

The first place he goes is to a hollow log, where he pulls out a rifle, a pistol, and some more knives.

Then he heads into a deserted small town. It's getting lighter out. And now that we're in the town I have to be extra careful not to be seen. There aren't any trees to hide behind here.

I watch from behind a car across the street as he enters a good-sized house with a swing in the front of it. I look up at an upstairs window and see a small, pale face. The sister. Or a prisoner of him and his horny friends.

There's a store down the street a ways, and I decide I'll go get some 9mm bullets for my Glock before doing anything rash.

I told you that I have a large amount of dumb luck. I find plenty of bullets, reload my gun, stuff some in my backpack, and head back to the car to hide behind and spy on Shaggy's house in the growing dawn.

"Okay," I whisper to myself, "You're gonna go to the door, and knock, and stick the gun in whoever-opens-the-door's face. And you'll give food to the sister...or prisoner, then leave."

So across the street I go. Knock, knock, knock. Deep breath.

I hear footsteps inside. Up goes the Glock. The door opens. Back goes the slide. A tall guy with fiery red hair stands in front of me, and he, too, has a gun raised.

Did I get the wrong house? Ugh, even after a freakin' zombie apocalypse I can't get normal stuff right. I mean, there was this one time back in – arrggh! Focus!

"What?" He says gruffly.

"I have food," I say, still keeping my Glock aimed at his head.

He gives me an odd look, tilts his head to look at the backpack, "Seth, you know her?"

And in comes Shaggy. He stares at me for a minute before saying, "We've met." His face is bruised, but clean now.

"Will you get the gun out of my face now?" I ask.

"I will if you will." The tall guy says.

"You first." I say, holding the Glock tighter.

"Not a chance," He says, his eyes glaring at me.

Seth tells me to come in.

The tall guy and I are still both staring each other in the eyes as we slowly lower our weapons. He moves over just enough for me to walk in. I step over the threshold. The house is practically bare of furniture. There's a backpack over in a corner, a few paper grocery bags, and a chair. That's all.

I hear the door shut behind me and glance back. The tall guy stands between me and the door. Great.

Seth disappears upstairs. Oh great, Wynne, look what you've gone and done! You've gotten yourself captured by two or more horny guys, and they're going to bring their other prisoner downstairs so that something bad can happen. Great. I'm the smartest girl in the world.

I stand in the middle of the room, waiting for the worst. I hear Seth's footsteps descending the stairs. When he reappears, he's carrying a girl, who looks a lot like him and appears to be around ten years old. Maybe he was telling the truth.

"You said you had food?" The tall guy's voice comes from by the door.

"Yeah, but only for her," I tell both boys.

Seth nods as he sets his sister on the lone chair.

She's so pale and thin. Her cheeks are sunken in, making her brown eyes look huge. She looks so fragile.

I glance over at the tall guy as I slip the backpack from my shoulders. He's glaring at me like he wishes I'd drop dead this instant. Then he could take my food.

I kneel down beside the chair. The little girl looks down at me, and a small smile plays at the corners of her chapped lips. "Hello," she says. Her voice is small, timid.

"Hello," I say, sending a small smile back.

"My name is Kacey," she says, while she watches me unzip my backpack.

I pull out a pack of crackers. "Nice to meet you, Kacey," I say as I open them, "I'm Wynne."

"That's a cool name," she says, her small hands reaching out to me and the crackers. I hand them over, and she eats them eagerly.

"Thank you," she says with a mouthful of crackers.

I smile a little, but I need to leave now. After eight months of being alone, it's crowded in here. I can feel the tall guy's eyes burning holes in the back of my head.

I stand up, lifting the backpack onto my shoulders. "I'll be going now."

The tall guy is still in front of the door. I glance at Seth, he gives the tall guy a nod, and he steps aside.

Head held high, I walk out. I'm halfway down the street when I smell them. I walk a little further before they stumble into sight. The dead things limp, waddle and lurch forward, bumping together in their tightly packed herd.

I turn around and run. I saw some runners in there. Runners are the fast zombies. They're pretty rare, but when there's one, there's ten.

When I reach the residential area, I look for the large house with the tiny porch and the swing in front of it. As soon as I spot it, I sprint forward and fling myself on the door, banging loudly. "Open up!" I practically scream. I can hear the herd coming closer. "Please!"

I hear shuffling inside, the lock clicking, then the door swings open. The tall guy is my welcome committee. He still holds his pistol, but it's not in my face this time.

"There's a herd," I gasp, pretty much falling into the house.

"Seth!" He shouts, right in my ear. He bangs the door closed and locks it again. "SETH!"

Seth comes in from another room, probably the den or something. "What?" He sees me. "You're back."

"There's a herd comin', fast," The tall guy says.

"Okay," Seth says, surprisingly calm as he runs upstairs.

"Come on," the tall guy grabs my arm.

I yank free of his grasp. "Don't touch me."

"We need to go upstairs." He stares at me. His eyes are several different colors all at once: gray, blue, green, golden brown. I guess you'd call them an explosion of hazel.

"Why?" I ask. So something bad can happen? I don't think so.

He doesn't answer me, but heads up the stairs. And despite everything, I follow him.

We enter a bedroom with a large window that overlooks the street. Kacey is there, laying on a makeshift bed of blankets and pillows. She's coughing horribly. I don't see any water anywhere, so I pull out a bottle and give it to her.

The tall guy watches her drink. I notice how dry his lips are, how his plaid shirt hangs loosely on his shrunken body.

"Do y'all have any food at all?" I ask no one in particular.

"Finished it three days ago," Seth tells me from where he's watching the street through the window, "Water ran out yesterday."

No wonder that little girl's sick. "Why didn't you just go out and get more?" I ask. Boys are stupid.

"How do you think I got caught by those jerks?" Seth turns away from the window to look at me.

I don't say anything except, "Why are we up here, anyway?"

"So we can keep an eye out, see how big the herd is, how many 'speedies' there are," Seth says, staring out the window again.

"'Speedies'?" I ask.

"Yeah, those zombies that run," Kacey says from her bed.

"Oh," I say, "I call them runners."

"We also want to know if one of them gets in the house," Seth continues, "And it'd have to come up the stairs, so we'd definitely hear it, and kill it."

"Oh," is all I say. Apparently they call this a plan.

"Doyle, you watch," Seth says to the tall guy, who takes his place by the window. I walk over and look out.

The herd swarms in the street below. Some runners are ahead of it, dragging along at an alarming speed. Some of the main herd is banging on the downstairs' boarded-up windows.

I glance over at Kacey and see she's terrified. Seth sits beside her, his arm over her bony shoulders.

He looks at me. "Why don't you stay with us? We could use another person – strength in numbers."

"Uhh....." I just met these people....and they already want me to join them? Boys really are stupid. "....I...."

"Don't rush your answer," the tall guy, Doyle, says from the window, "This herd's moving real slow. You're gonna be here a while, like it or not."

"I'll consider it," I tell Seth. I sit down below the window, beside Doyle's feet.

We stay there in silence, listening to the horrible banging and growling of the zombies beneath us.

I'm staring at the wall across from me, imagining what it would look like with a giant picture of a cat on it when a thunderous crash sounds from downstairs.