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You try to hide your smirk when you say, "I don't know, there is a certain charm by going in with our guns a-blazing don't you think?"

Rachel shakes her head with a soft laugh, "If your goal is to thin the group, then yes, that's the way to go."

You close your eyes. "This is a risky trip."

"Certainly, but the pros outweigh the cons of going to this farm. Alright, give me a few minutes, and I'll be ready to go," Rachel says

You shake your head. "No, you need to stay. If something happens, well, you are going to have to be here for defense."

For a moment, you think Rachel is going to offer disagreement, and she simply says, "Alright." As she walks past you, she squeezes your shoulder.

You quickly scope out the hilltop and see Jaime talking to Brody. The two grow quieter when they see you approach.

"What's up?" Jaime asks, concern crossing his face, "More infected?"

Shaking your head, you say, "No, but Rachel spotted a farm nearby. It might be beneficial to go check it out."

You lay out your argument, and Jaime takes a few moments to mull over the proposal.

"Alright, I'll go, Luth. We need supplies, and maybe this place can offer us even more. If there are other survivors there, we'll try to talk to them," Jaime says, his demeanor upbeat. "If no one is there, we'll see if it's safe for all of us."

The small team heads over to Parker and quickly assemble gear for their trip. Just as they leave the clearing, the twins follow them, also geared up for the mission.

You check the time—9:45 pm.

From the west side of the clearing, Kelly bursts into camp, out of breath, barefoot, and disheveled, shirt torn on the right sleeve. She collapses to her knees and drops a bloody knife to the dirt. Crying, she places her head on the ground.

"Kelly, are you okay?" Jaime says and rushes to her side.

Rachel draws her submachine gun and rushes to the western edge of the camp as the rest of the survivors form a circle around Kelly.

"It was awful," she stammers through crying breaths. "Coyotes. They killed Nathan."

"Dead?" Reilly says, bewildered. "Coyotes? What the hell?"

"Everyone back up and let the girl breathe," Nora says, and the group takes a step away. "Get her some water, Brody. Now Kelly, are you hurt?"

Kelly leans up, now kneeling. "No, I got away. One tried…to get me, but I…fought it off."

Brody returns with a cup, and Kelly takes it and sips. "Thank you."

"How did it happen?" you ask.

Kelly takes another sip from the cup. She holds the water in her mouth and swallows hard. "We took a path west and walked for several miles. There wasn't much out there but forest and a stream. We found a small path leading southwest with a sign for a gas station, but there were animal tracks, so we decided against taking it. We didn't make it far before we heard howls from nearby. Nathan wanted us to keep going along the trail, but I wanted to turn back. Maybe if I'd have convinced him—"

She sobs, body shaking, and lowers her head.

Jaime places his palm on her back. "It wasn't your fault, Kelly."

She nods, tears stopping but bottom lip trembling. She takes a tissue from Parker and wipes her nose. "We heard more howls and spotted them moving through the woods. It must have been six or seven of them—like the size of small pit bulls. They were mangy and thin, and one looked like it had a festering claw mark on its shoulder. They were growling and making these excited barks. Nathan told me to run, but I just—I froze. And then they came. The first one attacked Nathan, but he'd been carrying a shovel and hit it on the head. It went down, but then the others attacked. One jumped and bit his face, and another bit his arm and dragged him down. Nathan shouted for me to run again, and one of the coyotes started after me. As I turned to run, Nathan fell flat, and three of them were tearing him apart. He didn't even scream.

Kelly's hands tremble as she lifts the cup of water to her lips. "I ran along the trail and heard the coyote barking and growling from behind, his feet trampling the ground. I knew I couldn't outrun him, so I cut through the forest and ran for the small stream. I remembered seeing all the slick rocks in the water, so I made my way there, kicked off my shoes, and jumped up on the highest rock. I drew my knife and turned just as he caught up. He leaped high but slipped on the stones and caught my shirt. I slipped and cut my foot but slammed my knife into his stomach. He whined and tore off part of my shirt. He was hurt—blood was coming from his belly wound—but he didn't leave. He howled and circled the rock. He was keeping me there for the others. I knew I only had one chance, so I jumped off the rock and went right for him.

"Even he was surprised. He tried to turn and fight, but when he twisted around, he yelped in pain. I guess the wound in his stomach made it hard for him to run. I dove forward and slashed, slicing his eye. He started bucking like a bull and snapping wildly, but he finally bolted into the woods. I took the chance to run and made it all the way back here."

Kelly breaks down again, shuddering and crying.

We gotta do something about this. We gotta go find those suckers and kill them," Reilly says.

Rachel's mouth makes a thin line, though the edges twitch before she speaks. "I can't believe this happened." She looks in pain, like she's holding the news deep inside.

"And we have to protect our freaking camp," Madison says. "If we're going to be here for a few days, all kinds of wild animals could find us."

Church raises his hand. "I would like to go out and retrieve the body. If anyone else wants to volunteer, I'd appreciate the help."

"Why get the body? It's probably torn apart. There's no telling the shape it'll be in," Reilly states.

"I admit that I'm freaking out about how unsafe we are right now, but I still think we need to go out there for Nathan," Parker says. "Not only is it the Christian thing to do, but if I was out there, I'd want people to bury me."

"We have zombies, bandits, and now wild animals to worry about?" Madison asks. "What next…vampires? Aliens?"

"Nathan deserves a proper burial!" Church shouts. "It's wrong to leave him there to be feasted upon by animals. I'll go myself if you cowards won't."

"Okay, settle down. No need for name calling," Jaime says.

The group looks stunned by your decision. Those who agree with you seem happy, while those who disagree murmur their displeasure but don't object.

Soon after your decision, the group separates, and the survivors go about their evening.

You check the time—12:45 am.

You stand on the side of the campsite, peering down at the stacks of zombie bodies at the base of the hill. Thankfully, the wind is blowing away from you. Otherwise, the stench of the decay would be overwhelming. You wonder how much wood you'd need if you were going to burn zombie bodies and how much risk of a brushfire you'd create.

You stop as you feel a light tap on your shoulder. Looking up, you see Rachel trying to gain your attention, a serious look on her face. You don't detect any duplicity on Rachel's face, but something has her really bothered.

"Is something wrong?" you ask, pulling her aside to give the two of you as much isolation as the hilltop will allow.

"I need you to follow me," Rachel says quietly. "There's something I have to show you."

All right, lead the way," you say, and Rachel starts towards the woods at the back of the hilltop. She shines a flashlight on the path.

At the far end of the camp, several of the group see you hurriedly walking with Rachel, though most make no comment. Most, but not all.

"Can't wait for tonight, can you, lovebirds?" Reilly laughs.

Rachel casts a dark glance, and for a moment you see her hand start to raise, and two fingers start to make a 'V' shape, but she lowers it back down with great effort.

You make your way through the thick underbrush, though you see several sandburs you're going to have to remove from your clothing. Rachel walks about twenty more feet until you come upon a shadow-enclosed copse.

For a moment, you're at a loss as to why Rachel brought you this far away from the group. She points at a spot about five feet from you, and your eyes go wide.

Partially sticking out of the ground like some macabre flower, you see a hand. Below the hand is a pile of relatively freshly turned dirt, roughly the size of an adult. Nearby are three more dirt piles, one of them adult-sized, but two are noticeably smaller. Nearby, a cord of silver-gray barbed wire is tangled on the low branch of a tree.

"I think you can see why I didn't want to show the others," Rachel says. She stands close to you, speaking in a tone soft enough for you to hear but for no one else to be able to eavesdrop on. "I was doing a perimeter check, and that's when I stumbled across this, almost literally."

She bites the inside of her cheek as she says, "I went a little further afield, but thankfully I didn't find anything else like this."

"And this is why you came to get me?" you ask in confirmation.

Rachel gives an affirmative nod, though you detect a hint of irritation in her demeanor. "Of course. You're our leader. Who else would I get?"

You get closer to the dirt piles. The faint odor of decay wafts up from the exposed hand, and you look closer at the surroundings. Unsure what you're looking for exactly, you start to unearth the shallow grave with the exposed hand. As you dig up the loose dirt, the form of a human body takes shape. You push aside more and more earth. Doing so makes the smell of decay assault your senses, and you momentarily rock back on your feet. Though the odor is pungent, you maintain your composure and search the area. You circle the man, and though he has decayed somewhat, you can tell he was not a zombie nor had any symptoms of infection in life. Looking closer at the back of his head, you notice a bullethole at the base of the skull. In your mind's eye, you imagine this person kneeling, and then…blackness. Judging from the state of decay of the corpse, as well as the accompanying odor, you realize the body has been interred for at least two days.

You step back from the body and examine the rest of the area. Given the thick underbrush, you notice nothing significant at first glance. However, from the direction of the body, you detect the faint traces of broken branches and trampled grass. To the best of your ability, you can tell that this man was not chased or dragged here, but walked of his own volition.

Staring at a grave seems like a waste of time, and you'd rather be in a safer area, away from the scene of a homicide.

"Let's head back," you say and lead the way to the campsite.

Returning to camp, again the eyes of the group fall upon you. They watch Rachel and you walk through camp, their faces telling you they know something's wrong.

For now, it's best to keep this information to yourself. The group will overreact, panic, and likely do things that put more of them in danger.

You leave camp along the north-south natural path, first heading in a northwest direction towards the lake. This section of the forest is thick and green with trees packed together, branches intertwining as they fight for space to bare their leaves to the sun. Mosses and molds of green and blue coat the trunks and forest floor, and insects fly and slither and creep. The mild smell of spruce, often a sweet musk, interchanges with the odor of animal urine. If you didn't know this was Colorado, you'd think it some alien territory on a distant planet mimicking the earth.

Finally, you reach a three-way divide shaped like a pitchfork. Choosing the far-western trail, you follow it to a high bank with a steep drop off the end, and you stand and look over the valley. The lake is shaped like an irregular circle with small arms shooting into the countryside. On the far side, several miles away, several houses and larger commercial structures pop up at irregular distances. It would take hours to find a way around the river, unless you found a boat to go by water. It might not be worth the effort until your vehicles are fixed, as crossing the river is no easy feat. Besides, the homes are likely overrun by the infected.

Backtracking on the trail, you cut to the east away from the lake. The forest thins, though the path ends, forcing you to slow down. Eventually, you come to the highway and a chance to see what lies beyond the accident site where your caravan is stalled. The asphalt rolls on for a mile north and winds out of sight. A burnt-out car blocks one lane close to where you walk down a short hill. A news van sits along the shoulder of the highway ten yards back towards your campsite. The blue 7NEWS logo adorns the white van. A large antenna protrudes from the top, along with a satellite dish. A thin line of red stains the side door along the bottom seam. It's the color of dried blood.

With nothing else around, you…

You turn back towards camp and follow the highway south, passing the news van. After a hundred yards, you step up the incline to walk through the outskirts of the woods. As you walk, you scan your path and identify a number of edible offerings of the forest. You spot some raspberries growing in several large patches and pick a bowl full of them.

Another few hundred feet along, you spot an even greater find, a patch of mushrooms buried at the bases of several trees. Only a few poke out of the dirt, but after digging for a few minutes, you find a pound of fresh ones.

You pick up the pace on the last leg of the trek back to camp.

You check the time—2:45 am.

With the sun down, night falls over the clearing, thick with blackness beyond the campsite. The fire in the center glows orange and red and provides the only source of light. A wispy line of smoke rises high and mixes with the deep blue sky. Clouds roll in from the east, threatening rain tomorrow, offering another test for your group of survivors. A breeze has picked up, and the temperature feels twenty degrees cooler than in the daytime.

With the group's concern over attacks from wild animals and zombies, you contemplate watch duty. You head to the center of camp and call attention. "Everyone, get over here," you say and wait for the group to form a circle around you. "Everyone's tired, so I'll make this brief. We don't know what's out there, so you'd be stupid to leave camp tonight. Also, we need some people to stay up in shifts to keep watch."

Brody speaks up. "Watch duty?"

"If we're all asleep, something could wander into our camp and attack us. If a few people stay awake and look out for danger, others can sleep in peace. We can do two- to three-hour shifts." You pause a few moments, and after some murmurs and groans, your group agrees to this plan.

Jaime stands. "Luth is right. One infected gets into camp, and we're all dead. It might not be a popular decision, and it's not easy asking people to give up sleep, but it's the best way to protect ourselves."

"I'll be up on watch duty as long as you need," Rachel adds.

"If it were up to you, we'd all stay up forever," Madison says, rolling her eyes.

"Keeping a watch duty just makes good sense," Church states. "I'll volunteer for first shift."

Kelly stands up, hands in her pockets, shoulders slumped. "I'll do whatever, but I'm dozing off even now. If I can get a few hours to sleep, I'll wake up early to relieve someone."

"Not everyone should take a shift," Reilly says, nodding sideways to his mother. "Just let the strong do it, like me, Jaime, Rachel, Brody."

Nora folds her arms like a defiant toddler. "You're sayin' I'm weak? I can stay up and keep watch as good as anyone."

While the group debates the plan, you

You spend a few minutes dividing the group equally, even taking the last shift yourself. No one objects as you call out each name and their times for watch duty.

"Okay, I'll post a chart in case you forget your assigned shift. We'll start in an hour," you say. In terms of watch duty for yourself…

You're too tired to watch camp. Everyone else can do it.

Though the stars shine brightly, you'll feel better sleeping in the shelter of a tent tonight. Since you haven't pitched it yet, you commit to spending the time and effort to do it now.

You locate a clear area of ground in the campsite and brush away small bits of debris and stones. The tent and its parts are stored in a large nylon bag, and you unpack all of the gear. You lay out the ground cloth and position the tent over it. Next, you assemble the poles, which come in two large sections each, then attach them to the body of the tent by threading each end through sleeves. The other end of each pole attaches to the ground cloth.

Finally, you attach the tarpaulin to the outside of the tent, knowing this piece of material will provide an extra layer to shield you from wind and rain. Luckily, this tent is self-supporting, so there's no need to stake it to the ground. You move inside the seven-by-seven-foot area, crouching below the four-foot nylon ceiling. With the wind blocked, you feel warmer already. Rachel set out several lanterns around camp, so you set one in the corner to light the inside of your tent.

You into a simple clean T-shirt and shorts for comfort. You roll out your sleeping bag on a clear spot away from the main exit flap and smooth the surface. The thick down material will provide a soft place to rest for the evening. You even cover it with a blanket should it get colder in the night.

As you lie down, a shadow passes over the front of your tent. A light knock raps the canvas.

"Evening, it's just me," Rachel says.

"Come in."

She climbs in through the flap and sits cross-legged on the floor. "Thank you, dear."

Like a mercenary in a James Bond film, she wears a forest-green shirt with a leather vest, tight tan cargo pants, and ankle-high mountain boots. She lays her scoped AR-15 rifle on the ground. A Rockies baseball cap sits on her head—the same hat she wore the other day when she showed up at your house.

"I'm on watch duty from the start," she says, almost apologetically. "Probably the whole night. Otherwise, I'd be here."

You might have time to ask Rachel a question or two…

As you move in to kiss her, she touches your mouth to stop you. "I wish we could, but now isn't the time. I need to go and start watch duty soon, so I need to keep my focus. When we leave here and find a safe place, we can let down our guard and do whatever we want in order to feel normal again. Sadly, we have to wait."

Rachel's eyes narrow. "Leading you on? How exactly am I leading you on? I've never hidden my feelings towards you. Would you rather I sleep with you, setting aside my responsibilities and putting us all at risk?"

"Every time I mention being more physical or spending time together, you say we have to wait, or now isn't the right time, or some other excuse. It's not about making out or sex, it's about you lying to me."

Rachel shakes her head and turns away. "This isn't the right time. I need to go on watch duty."

"That's right. Run off, like you always do."

She crouches like a frog and crawls out of the tent, disappearing into the forest nearby.

You zip up your tent flap and hear a hard burst of wind ruffle the plastic exterior. You crawl into your tent, slipping your feet all the way to the bottom. Once you feel yourself tucked inside the comfy cocoon, you draw it around your body to keep away the cold. Though it's May, the temperature up on this Colorado hilltop makes it cooler than it should be. Storm clouds rolling in mean tomorrow it will rain, and your small group will deal with one more obstacle. As you lay your head back, you mind drifts into the ether of sleep with only one lingering thought—what else can this world throw at us?