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“If some of Ed’s people are alive, we’re stealing humans from zombies. That counts, right?”

Nerit speared him with a sharp look, but Arnold grinned. It was a forced expression, his eyes not matching his broad smile. They all had coping mechanisms to endure the apocalypse.

Another sharp turn and they were on a narrower road lined with tall grasses. Mexican Hat wildflowers dotted the terrain. The yellow petals clustered at the base of their spikey center were ruffled by the summer breeze. It would have been a pretty sight except for the scene just beyond the flowers.

A Dodge Durango, riddled with bullets, slathered in zombie guts, and sporting a rear flat tire, had crashed into the concrete building housing the restrooms. Chucks of cement were strewn across the roof and hood. Most of the windows were broken and blood stained the glass. There didn’t appear to be anyone inside. Even more worrisome, a number of the undead milled around the vehicle. Most were weathered by time and the elements, but a few among them looked freshly dead.

“Stop,” Nerit ordered

Arnold brought the bus to a hard stop.

“What do we do? Leave? Back up? There’s no one alive in that Durango for sure,” Arnold whispered.

“We can’t just leave without checking it out!” Juan protested.

“Keep your head on straight, Juan.”

He wilted under Nerit’s stern look. “Yes, ma’am. It’s just that after everyone we lost, if I can’t rescue-”

“This isn’t about your need to be a savior. This is about rescuing any possible survivors up there. I need you to focus. Monica is your partner on this mission and I won’t have you putting her life at risk because you’re-”

“I get it, Nerit!”

“Do you?”

“Yeah.” Juan met her gaze defiantly. “I’m good. I won’t let my cousin down.”

“Good, because if you did, and I turned zombie, I’d eat you.” Monica nudged him with her elbow. “I got your back, so have mine.”

“I’m fine. Really.” Juan folded his arms across his chest and directed his gaze away from Nerit to watch the zombies milling outside the Durango. Lips pressed tightly together, he was clearly waiting for Nerit to continue.

Emma didn’t know Juan well, so it was hard to tell if he really was okay. Watching him flex his hands and roll his shoulders, she had quite a bit of sympathy for him. She knew what it was like to want to be a savior. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to become executioner to his turned loved one.

Nerit waited a minute, allowing the tension to die down, before turning to Monica. “What’s your assessment?”

“There are about fifty zombies,” Monica said, her fingers fiddling with her holster strap. “If someone was alive in that Durango, they’d be swarming it.”

“But they are gathered around the building,” Emma pointed out.

“Which is suspicious,” Nerit said with a nod.

Staring at the scene, something caught Emma’s eye. She climbed onto a seat and peered through the metal grating welded to the window frame. She lifted her hand to shade her eyes so she could study the scene. So far, they hadn’t been spotted. The wind was carrying both sound and scent in the opposite direction of the dead. Also, the bus was far enough away from the zombies to not be noticed. Squinting, Emma stared at the building and crashed Durango. There wasn’t a sign of life anywhere. She started to look away when something caught her eye again, but she wasn’t sure what it was exactly.

“See something?” Monica was at her elbow, straining to look.

“Movement, I think. Or maybe it’s the trees behind the building, but...” Emma glimpsed it again. “There!”

A hand, straining upward, was visible on top of the roof of the restrooms for just a second before disappearing again.

“We have a survivor,” Emma announced. “On the roof of the building.”

Nerit raised her sniper rifle, peered through the sight, and waited. A minute later, she lowered it and nodded. “You’re right.”

“Can you tell who it is?” Juan asked, his lips trembling.

“No,” Nerit replied.

Somehow, Emma knew she was lying to keep Juan calm.