"Pick those up," Leroy suggested, pointing at the discarded glow sticks.
"No sense in leaving a trail for them to follow."
They put the discarded sticks in their pockets and kept walking.
Jim took hold of Danny's hand again.
"Daddy?"
"What, squirt?"
"Do you think they'll ever make a new Godzilla movie?"
Jim stifled a laugh. The question surprised him, so unexpected and removed from their surroundings.
"I doubt it, Danny. I think Hollywood and Tokyo are probably just like everywhere else now."
"That sucks," the boy pouted. "I'll miss Godzilla. And Spider-Man and Dragonball Z. Maybe when I grow up, I'll make new ones."
"Maybe we can find you some comic books somewhere along the way, after we get to where we're going."
Danny's face brightened at the prospect. "I miss my comics. They were all back at Mommy's house. Now they're probably burned up, or else the monster-people are reading them."
"You know what I missed?" Jim asked him.
"What?"
"I missed you." He gave Danny's hand a squeeze.
"But what do you miss now, Daddy?"
Jim thought about it. "Your stepmom. And West Virginia. My friends back home. Watching the Mountaineers play, even if they're losing. And Martin."
"You know what I miss?" Quinn spoke up from the rear. "An ice-cold beer.
God, I'd kill for a beer right now. And a big, juicy steak, cooked rare with a baked potato on the side."
"I miss Days of Our Lives," Etta said.
"You and those damn soaps," Leroy grunted. "That's all you ever watched."
"I watched it ever since I was a little girl. Last I saw, Abe and Lexie was getting back together, but Stefano was gonna stop it. Now I don't guess I'll ever find out what happens next."
"You won't be missing much." Leroy shook his head in frustration. "I miss my car. I swear, my damn feet got blisters from all this walking."
"What about you, Steve?" Quinn asked.
"My son."
They grew quiet. In the darkness, Steve sniffed.
"Yeah," Don finally broke the silence. "I miss my wife, Myrna."
Pigpen's eyes were far away. "I miss that Italian place on 24th. They used to give me a meatball hoagie every day. God and I would share one, and eat it outside on the sidewalk bench. Boy, those were good. Didn't last long, though."
"You mean God didn't turn the sandwich into more, like Jesus with the bread and fish?" Quinn teased him.
"God's just a cat, Mr. Quinn."
They all laughed at this. In the darkness, Quinn's ears got as red as his hair.
"What about you, Forrest?" Don asked. "What do you miss most?"
"Honestly? This will sound weird. I was a news junkie. Growing up in Harlem, my momma made me watch the news every day. Stuck with me when I became an adult. Always started the morning with a cup of coffee and The Daily News. Then I'd watch Fox or CNN in the evening. I miss the news-I miss feeling connected to the world. I don't feel like I'm a part of it anymore."
"You might not want to be a part of it," Frankie said. "It belongs to those things now."
"I miss my home," Smokey mumbled. "And my dog. He was a good dog-kind and gentle, scared of his own shadow. Followed me around the house all day. I boarded him in a kennel when I came here to visit my daughter. I wish I knew what happened to him."
"Maybe it's better that you don't," Leroy said.
Frankie didn't speak her desire aloud. She missed her baby-her stillborn child. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to force the image from her mind. She could still hear the nurse's screams when the infant had come back to life.
Danny murmured, "I miss Mommy."
Jim put an arm around his shoulders and squeezed.
They all fell silent again, each lost in their own thoughts.
Soon, the sounds of running water echoed from ahead. They emerged into a wide space filled with tools and construction equipment. A seamless curtain of water poured from a broken pipe fifteen feet over their heads. To their right, there was a hole in the cement wall. It looked like something or somebody had chiseled it out. Pigpen shined the flashlight beam into the hole.
Etta and Smokey both screamed.
Rats had eaten half of the zombie's face-whether before or after it had died they didn't know. The eyes were scratched out, and the tongue had been chewed away. An ear was missing; the other was a ragged lump of gnawed cartilage. When it sat up, the creature's empty eye sockets swarmed with wriggling maggots and a plump, white worm dropped from its nose.
The blind creature slumped out of the hole and crawled toward them, guided by their screaming. God reared up, hissing, and Pigpen dropped the flashlight. He bent, fumbling for it, as the monster crept closer.
Forrest raised his rifle to his shoulder, carefully lined up the crosshairs of his scope, and squeezed the trigger. The stock bucked against his shoulder and the zombie's rotting head exploded, splattering the wall with gore and maggots.
Pigpen snatched up the flashlight and gasped for breath.
Behind them, a thin figure separated itself from the darkness and glided toward the group. They didn't see it until it's yellow, broken teeth sank into Leroy's neck. Flesh and tendons tore, and blood gushed from the hole. Leroy's scream became a long, drawn out wail. He beat at the creature with his hands, but the jaws clamped down on the wound again. The zombie shook its head back and forth like a dog, burrowing deeper into his neck and shoulder. Its pus-covered fingers dug into the burn wound on his arm, popping the blisters and peeling his skin back.
"Get it off me! Oh God ..."
"I can't get a shot," Quinn yelled. "Steve! Nail it!"
Steve ran forward, clubbing the creature with the butt of his rifle. He smashed the stock against its face a second time, and the zombie reared backward, taking another mouthful of Leroy's neck with it.
The wounded man collapsed next to the zombie on the tunnel floor. He tried to scream, but blood shot from his throat rather than sound. He inhaled, the air whistling in his chest. The zombie reared up on its hands and knees and gnashed its teeth.
"Leroy!" Etta screamed.
She ran to his side and the zombie lunged for her. Steve swung the rifle over his head and slammed it down a third time. There was a sickening thud, and then blood and other fluids gushed from the cracked skull.
Steve clubbed it again. The corpse went limp, sprawling in a puddle of sewage.
The others checked the perimeter, but there were no more zombies. They gathered around Leroy and Etta.
Leroy held his hands up to his face and saw the blood on them. His eyes widened in panic and he grasped his throat. Etta sobbed, begging him not to die. He tried to speak one more time, and then his lips stopped moving.
"No," Etta cried. "This ain't happening. You come back, Leroy. You come back to me right now, god damn it!"
Forrest's voice was gentle, but firm. "Etta, you know what we've got to do."