"Wake up! James, wake up! Waaake up!"

I turn over onto my left side, to find Carla kneeling beside my nest of blankets on the floor. Her brown eyes appear five times bigger-- from the excitement I can see dancing behind them.

"Yeah?!? Was'sup? What's wrong?"

Carla's voice cracks and she winces slightly.

"Tiffany's gone! She's taken all of her things....And a few of ours....and left. My guess is....She's gone back to the church. But I can't say for sure. She was really quiet yesterday evening. Almost secretive. Wouldn't talk to me much. All I know is....She's gone."

I rub my hand down my forehead and nose in exasperation. Good riddance. Don't get me wrong, I liked Tiffany. But the last couple of days, she had proven to be quite an annoyance.

I offer Carla a small smile and try to keep the relief out of my voice. I could at least pretend to be magnanimous about the situation.

"Maybe it's for the best. She really didn't mesh well with the rest of the group, did she? Always talkin' about wanting to go back, and wondering how they were getting along. Now, she doesn't have to worry or wonder anymore. Maybe now, she's happy. I'm not gonna chase her. And you shouldn't either. And that stuff wasn't really ours to begin with. Let her have it."

I make a move to stand up, but Carla braces me with a hand on my right shoulder.

"Not gonna chase her? James, she's a kid! Well, pretty much. She doesn't need to be surrounded by a bunch of unstable fanatics. You said yourself that the Reverend seems a little unhinged these days. Next thing we know, she'll be a fanatic. And we don't need that! Ever heard of Jim Jones, and drinking the Kool-Aid?! That's what she's doing, James....She's drinking the Kool-Aid. And you're just gonna let her?!?"

I shrug as casually as I can and start climbing to my feet.

"It's her choice, Carla! And she's already made it! We need to worry about ourselves. We don't have time to go chasing her all over tarnation. Besides, that could be even more dangerous for us. She knows where she can find us, if she needs us."

Carla is evidently in disagreement, but she doesn't say another word. Her eyes stare unblinking into mine. Zach nearly bounds into the room. A nervous energy causes him to bounce on both feet.

"When we headin' out? I'm hoping we find some people today. It's startin' to feel like 'Last Man on Earth,' around here."

"Cool your cucumbers, buddy! We'll be goin' in a few. Let me relieve myself, at least brush my molars, and get a bite to eat. Then, we go. Okay with you?"

Zach shifts nervously and looks away. If I didn't know any better, I'd think he found a stash of medicinal feel good plant somewhere. The kid appears wound tight enough to snap.

"Uh, sure. Not tryin' to be an ass. Just feelin' real spooked. You know, being the only people in known civilization."

I reach over for a roll of toilet tissue and offer him a wry smile.

"No harm, Zach. Now, like I said....Duty calls."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

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Three hours later, we are at the opposite end of downtown. Zach and Carla begin heading for the small technical school across the street from us. I nod my head—completely understanding their line of reasoning. If there is any place better than a hospital, a church, or a school to hold a mass gathering—I ain’t seen one yet. Zach is almost beaming with excitement. I’m guessing, at the thought of seeing his girl again.

“Yeah, I’m bettin’ there are a bunch of people up in there. We should have come here first. Don’t know why I didn’t think of it! Too busy feeding my face. I should have thought of it! Damn! I should have thought of it!”

I shake my head and glance over at Zach with slight apprehension. Was it just me, or was he gettin’ more and more hysterical? I find myself hoping he is not losing his nerve, or his mind. And especially hoping that whatever possessed the Crawfords—And made them homicidal zombies—isn’t also infecting Zach.

“Well, we’re here now! Keep your voice down! And move carefully. We don’t know if everyone is right in the head in there. You remember what I told you happened at the church? Can’t take any chances. I’ll go first.”

I hold my pistol about waist height and move up the walkway—toward the main entrance of the college. It seems weird, carrying a weapon inside. I’m just old enough to remember the Trench Coat Mafia and Columbine. Not good memories. But this isn’t even close to the same thing—I tell myself. This time, we’re going in to rescue survivors.

We enter without incident. The doors weren’t even locked. I look around the corridor, spying all of the open lockers. I tilt my head back to speak to my companions.

“Someone’s definitely been here. Look at the lockers!”

Zach is suddenly less confident and happy than he was earlier. He looks around almost fearfully.

“Yeah. Wonder why they did that? What were they lookin’ for? You think they’re….Uh, sane?”

Carla cautiously takes in our surroundings, but says nothing.

“I have no idea,” I whisper with a shrug. “Let’s go.”

We continue down the hall, until we reach sharp turn. I proceed to the right, and receive a 4-inch PVC pipe to the chest for my troubles. The air escapes from my chest with a loud whoosh. Carla jumps back a step but tries to steady me. Her other hand comes up and she firmly brandishes her bat. Zach lets out a frightened yelp and stays cemented to his spot on the floor. All three pairs of eyes fall suspiciously on our attackers.

Two teenage boys, athletic in build—and obviously identical twins—stand in front of us. Judging from looks alone, they can’t be more than fifteen or sixteen; but are pushing at least six-feet in height. The boy who hit me in the chest steps forward. His eyes are trained on my weapon.

“Who the hell are y’all? And what’s with the gun?!”

I stare at the kid in disbelief.

“If you’ve lived through the last few days, and can still ask me that question…I’d say, you’ve been livin’ under a rock!”

The boy’s eyes narrow and he pats the pipe on the inside of his left hand menacingly.

“Alright…I’ve been livin’ under a rock! So humor me. Now, what’s with the gun?! My brother and I have survived just as long without one! And done pretty good for ourselves. So, I think I can ask you any damn question I want! You think you’re gonna rob us? Think again! We ain’t got nothin’ of value. But, even if we did…You ain’t takin’ it without a fight! I’ll tell you that much!”

“Ronnie, please!” The other twin whispers. “Ease up! I don’t think they’re here to harm us. Besides, they might have medical training. Do any of you have medical training?”

Carla steps forward. The look of concern once again plastered to her face.

“I trained as a medic in the National Guard. You have wounded here?”

The soft-spoken twin seems relieved and rushes to take Carla’s hand. His words are barely audible as he guides Carla up the hallway and away from the group.

“Just one wounded. My girlfriend….Adele. I’m Anthony, by the way. Everyone calls me ’Tony.’ She broke her ankle jumping out a window….when we were attacked by one of the professors. She’s in the music room. I’ll take you by the nursing station— for any supplies you might need….And then, we can head there, okay?

Carla looks over her shoulder as she is led away.