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I let it go as we looked back at the carnage. The glow of the last aphid faded. I pointed at it. “Can you see the glow?”

He squinted. “No.”

“Huh. I don’t get it. They were lit up like a goddamn howitzer. And they can’t see in the dark. I’m sure they couldn’t see us.”

He completed a three-sixty with the Maglite, probing the edge of the immediate yard. “Little pupils. Makes sense.”

“Yeah. And the buzzing? Did you hear them?”

He scratched his beard with his flashlight hand. “Yep. Right before I shot the dickless bastard.”

“The others buzzed too. Each one had its own tone or pitch. Like they were communicating. “

A horrible thought came to me as I stared at the bodies piled in a sticky black bath. “You don’t think…my fa—”

“No. Remember Eugene said he found your dad’s Rhino miles from here? And even if your dad turned into…you know he never went anywhere unarmed. He would have ended his life before he mutated.”

“Yeah.”

“Even if one of these things was someone you knew, after the mutation it’s not anymore. It would kill you as sure as you stand there. Don’t ever hesitate, okay?”

I didn’t want to have this conversation.

“Evie?” He waited for me to look at him. “You shoot to kill. Just like you did tonight. Even if it’s me. Especially if it’s me. Come on. We’ll do another patrol around the property and pray for no surprises inside.”

The distant purr of a motor interrupted the desolation. The hum came from the direction of Eugene’s house, my father’s only neighbor within an audible distance.

“The jeep,” he said. “Now.”

I didn’t question him. Concealment was hiding behind things that didn’t have a ballistic value, like weeds or car doors. True cover concealed and protected. The engine block.

He swapped out his side arm for his M4 and held it in high ready. “We can’t assume it’s Eugene. So be ready.”

I reloaded and mirrored his stance. Who else could it be?

The final forming of a person’s character lies in their own hands.

Anne Frank

The motor rumbled from behind the grove. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other and flexed my fingers, loosening my grip on the carbine. Wind blustered through the canopy. An owl screeched.

Through the scope, two pairs of headlights emerged from the hill and hovered over the gravel road, slowing and bobbing at me. I filled my scope with the first driver. From the corner of my eye, Joel lowered his barrel and stepped around the bumper. The ATV skidded to a stop and a man leapt from it, grabbing Joel by the vest, swinging him around, laughing. Eugene. Then he saw me, set Joel down and whispered my name.

I clicked the safety on and lunged into his arms. He held me tight. A welcome home. Then he released me. “Aw, thank the Lord you’re safe. Y’all remember my boy, Steve?”

“Of course.” I extended my hand to the man on the second ATV.

Steve’s eyes were hidden behind a veil of black shaggy hair. He squeezed my hand. “Hey Evie. It’s been a while.” Then he smiled. “Damn, it’s good to see a friendly face.”

“Yeah.” I glanced at Joel. “We’ve been lonely too.”

Joel reached around me and shook Steve’s hand.

“Now what in tarnation was all that racket up here?” Eugene laughed, low and hearty. “Sounded like a pack of basset hounds on the Fourth of July.” He rocked back on his heels and rubbed the bowling ball belly that hung between his suspenders. He looked just the way I remembered. Greasy dark hair encircled a bald spot. A wiry beard framed full ruddy cheeks.

“Well Eugene,” Joel said. “Evie cleaned house. Come on, I’ll show you.” He glanced back at me with razor eyes. So, his mollycoddling wasn’t going to disappear overnight. I set my jaw, jut out my hip and strummed my fingers on the carbine. He went on his way.

Steve stayed.

“Have there been a lot of attacks here?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Guess so, but we’ve been pretty isolated.” He leaned against the jeep and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I was in St. Louis when the outbreak hit. Saw a lot of shit I’d like to forget.”

I looked him in the eye. “I’m sorry.”

“We’re all survivors.” He sniffed. “I know you had little ones.”

I flinched and tried to cover it with a cough. Then I grabbed the cigarettes from the glove box and offered one to Steve.

We savored the nicotine in silence until Steve broke it. “How’d you kill those bastards in the dark anyway?”

“This”—I patted the carbine—“and the glowing skin helps.”

He arched his brows.

I took a final drag to settle my guts. The cherry flared and dulled. I thought about the aphids’ brief glow before they died. “Have you ever seen one in the dark?”

Steve looked away and muttered, “Yeah, my girlfriend.”