“Hey.” Devin tapped his knuckles against the glass pane in the door as he stepped into what used to be one of the visiting rooms of the prison. “How’re we doing?” He stood at the bottom of the gurney bed and glanced from the sleeping boy to his parents.

The boy’s mother shook her head. “I just want him to wake up. I want my baby to wake up.” Her bottom lip trembled as she leaned forward and wrapped her hands around her son’s.

“Thank you,” Kirk said, and got to his feet. “I know it must have been a difficult decision to make about bringing us back here with you.” He stepped closer, steadied himself on his injured leg then held out his hand to Devin. “So…thank you.”

Devin pressed his lips together and nodded as he briefly took Kirk’s hand. “It was the right thing to do.” He may have had his doubts, but he had made the right choice in the end. In all the chaos and horror, it was easy to lose what made them human, to forget that there were still good people. What was the point in fighting for the future, if it turned out there was no one left worth saving the world for? That they had become monsters no better than the ones rotting beyond the gates.

“Thank you.” Kirk’s wife pressed her lips to the back of her son’s hand. She winced and rubbed at her chest, suppressing a series of coughs.

Devin checked the room. There was one member of the family missing. “Where is your daughter? Tatum, right?”

Kirk seemed uneasy as he explained, “She’s gone exploring. I hope that was okay. We’d been checked over and we assumed—”

“No. That’s fine.” Devin gave Kirk a small smile. “I just wanted to check in on you and make sure you were all okay.” He looked again at the sleeping child. Would he survive the night?

The boy’s skin was pale and grayish. Dark rings framed his eyes, the skin of his lips was dry and cracked, and his breathing ragged. Though it would be of no comfort to the boy’s parents, death might have been a blessing. There were no signs of infection from any bites, but the boy was clearly ill from something flu-like, so blood samples had been taken for testing. If the boy really wasn’t infected and he didn’t make it to tomorrow, for him the nightmare would be over. His death would be final, peaceful. There would be no coming back. Unease pricked at Devin’s skin. His mind went to Lee, the violence and blood of his death, and what had followed. Devin rolled back his shoulders at the haunting memory of Lee’s firm grip on his boot and the youth’s colorless stare.

That thing hadn’t been Lee. Lee was already gone.

It was as if he was right back there, his mind playing tricks as he found himself flinching at the sound of a gunshot that was nothing more than a memory. Clearing his throat, Devin met Kirk’s gaze. The man was staring at him with an intense curiosity, though there was understanding etched on his face. Nobody had made it through this hell without having seen something that haunted them.

“I’ll stop by again in the morning.” With a small smile, Devin headed for the door.

“Will you remember him in your prayers tonight?” Kirk’s wife said.

You are a sinner, a devil. There had been such venom in his mother’s voice. She had been so quick to damn him to hell because of who he loved. It all seemed so long ago, so insignificant now.

His belief in something greater had died long before this nightmare had fallen over them, but he wouldn’t deny the woman her faith, her hope. He nodded and said, “Of course.” Then he left.

Once outside, he pulled the door shut and leaned against it. He felt as if he could breathe again. He tilted his head at the sound of children’s voices. It was a sound he hadn’t heard in a while, the sound of youthful laughter.

There were seven children at the prison, all younger than Lee had been, too young to even consider letting them pick up a weapon, but Devin had never had reason to be in their company. He couldn’t remember taking time to listen to their nonsensical childish chatter, to take comfort in what innocence they had managed to retain.

Curiosity got the better of him, and he followed the voices’ echo. It was as if he was chasing ghosts. With each corridor he walked into, the children seemed to have moved into the next. There was the clink of a metal gate shutting and Devin quickened his pace when he realized in which direction they were heading.

“Hey,” Devin said sharply. He stopped on the other side of the gate and wrapped his hands around the metal bars.

Tatum stiffened. She looked over her shoulder, wide-eyed, and was holding her hand over the handle of the closed door in front of her.

“What are you doing?” Devin kept his eyes on hers as he pulled open the gate and stepped around. He checked the area. “Are you by yourself?”

Tatum glanced along the empty corridor. “I… They dared me.” She snatched back her hand, then pushed both hands into the pockets of her hooded sweater. “Is it true? You have one of those things in there?”

“Why do you want to know?”

The girl shrugged. “Just askin’. It’s good to know what’s going on. Dad says there are no surprises that way.”

Resting his hands on his hips, Devin inspected her from head to toe. “Smart,” he said. He eyed the door, his gaze falling to the lock. He held out his hand. “Give it to me.”

Tatum slowly pulled her hand from her pocket. “Sorry.” She edged forward and handed over the key.

Devin closed his hand around the cool metal. “Who gave it to you?”

Though most gates and doors were left unlocked for easy movement through the building, there were some places that needed to be kept secure. He was aware of several sets of keys, which had belonged to the original guards of the penitentiary. Most had been handed out to appointed individuals, those who had the most reason to access such places for weapons, supplies, or, in the case of this door, research. But there were a few available for the general population to access in case of an emergency.

“A boy.”

“He got a name?”

Tatum shrugged again. “Don’t know. He said I’d be too scared to go in there.” She stood tall. “I’m not scared.”

Devin considered her thoughtfully. He wondered what she had seen in the time before he and Noah had come across her and her family. “I know you’re not. Only sometimes the smart thing to be is scared. Means you stop and think about what you’re doing.” He held up the key. “Instead of taking silly dares from silly little boys.”

The girl pursed her lips and glanced at the door. Her tone changed to something more serious and less childish as she asked, “Why do you keep it here?” It seemed Devin’s avoidance of answering her questions had only confirmed the existence of the monster.

“Because.” Devin stared past her, pictured the monster caged inside. If he had had his way they would have destroyed the monster a long time ago. It didn’t deserve to exist. Not when good men had died because of it. Corden and his ego had been the reason that thing was still standing.

“Because what?”

Because I’m a good soldier and I did what I was told.

“Because someone who used to live here thought it was a good idea. That maybe we could learn something from it, find a way to save the world.”

Tatum met his eyes. “But you didn’t?”

Devin shook his head. “The world still sucks.” He blinked, shaking away the seriousness. “Now get out of here. And no more dares with boys. Okay?”

“Promise.” Tatum smiled and ran down the hallway. She darted to the left and down a connecting corridor, and Devin swore he heard laughter.

Devin waited until he was sure she was gone, then approached the door. Hesitantly, he reached out and pressed his palm to the solid metal. He closed his eyes and listened, imagined the door bulging with every wheezed breath of the monster within. Opening his eyes, Devin pulled back his hand and slipped the key into the lock. Footsteps behind him drew his attention and he noted the shadows at the end of the corridor he had come down. His skin crawled at the idea somebody had been watching him.

He turned the key and pulled the door open. That sound. He hesitated at the threshold and listened to the low groans from within the poorly lit space. The last of the evening sun glowed red through the small barred windows, casting a pattern a short distance across the floor outside the cells. The cells themselves remained in darkness. He stared back along the corridor. There was nobody there.

Did I imagine it?

Devin stepped into the confinement area and pulled the door shut behind him. Nobody came down here anymore, not Emily, not her partner, Prescott. The monster hadn’t been the answer. Devin kept his distance as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the low light. He listened to the sound of metal dragging across the floor, along with the shuffle of feet and the agitated growls and groans of the undead freak. Lifting his head, Devin eyed the caged monster. Devin wasn’t sure when it had happened, but John, as Emily had named her research project, was no longer restrained. Devin straightened and looked along John’s outreached arms. Flesh had sagged and been stripped away as he had struggled for freedom, and had slipped off the cuffs and chains.

The monster clawed its crooked fingers through the air. Twisting its body, it angled its head, managing to fit its shoulder partly between the bars and extend its reach.

Devin fingered the clip of his handgun holster and stepped back against the wall as the undead freak continued to stretch and twist and grab at air. Unable to reach Devin, the freak kept pushing, but its body was too large. It gave a raspy whine and pressed its battered face into the gap between bars. Devin relaxed a little when it became clear the thing wasn’t getting out of there, not with its head attached.

Devin slid down to sit on the cold, gray floor. He crossed his legs and leaned against the wall. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs before steadily breathing out. “What am I supposed to do?” He met John’s dull eyes.

The sound of his voice seemed to fire the hunger of the monster. It stepped sideways, thrusting forward and reaching in his direction with both arms.

“You never give up do you?” Devin felt wrong for doing so, but he did admire the monster’s steely determination to have him as a snack. “You’re dropping apart and trapped in a cage, and you still want at me.” He drew his gun and aimed it at John’s head. Narrowing his eyes, he cocked his head to one side, tilting the gun as he did so. There was nothing, no reaction from the monster. No fear, no flinch as Devin released the safety.

Fine. You win.

The freak just kept reaching for him, making desperate sounds as it was denied its feast.

I am so done.

The gun felt heavy in his hands as he put the safety back on. Devin turned the gun around and pointed it at himself. He stared into the barrel. Gently, he ran his thumb over the trigger. He had fought so long to stop the feeling of despair getting the better of him. He had struggled with dark feelings and thoughts even before the world had crumbled.

Devin lowered the gun. He closed his eyes and pressed his palm to his face, covering his lips and nose. Hopelessness wrapped itself around him like a blanket. His body felt as if it was weighted down. He made a fist and pressed it to his mouth. He wanted to scream away the tension gripping his chest. A silent cry escaped his throat and he pressed his fist more firmly into the space. His hot breath was on the back of his knuckles. He emptied his lungs before gasping for breath. Opening his eyes, he lowered his arm and stared at the imprint of his teeth on his skin.

The one time he had ever felt this lost before was when he had come back from his final tour before leaving the army.

Depression. He’d thought ignoring it would get him through. Devin had done his best to focus on other people. On Emily. He had figured if it was for other people he could keep going, keep fighting, keep living.

The monster drew back its lips and clacked its teeth over and over.

“What’s going on inside your head?” Devin leaned forward as he returned his gun to its holster. Was there anything beyond hunting, killing and eating? He looked at the floor and the fading lines of light.

Those in the group tasked to the kitchen would have started preparing the evening meal about now. With over sixty mouths to feed, supply versus demand was a tough thing to keep balanced. So much they had taken for granted. The food they had eaten, the fuel they had put in their vehicles, how with a flick of a switch they had had light, heat, power.

For the first few months, the group’s focus had been survival. There had always been this hope, no matter how unlikely, that somehow life would go back to normal. They would be saved. But as time went on and foraging locally for supplies became harder, it became obvious nobody was going to swoop in and save them, so the group’s objectives changed. And as much as Devin hated to admit it, a lot of what they had now and where they were heading was due to Corden’s influence.

Slowly but surely they had started thinking of the future. They’d scouted new routes, cleared the way and so had continued to increase their search area, including locating warehouses that held scores of supplies. They worked to expand the fruit and vegetable plots already at the prison and had visited farms hoping to find surviving livestock. They had begun to salvage car batteries and other parts from garages, along with diesel vehicles. They had collected reading material from libraries and bookstores, anything that might help them—fuel alternatives for vehicles, the use of solar power, farming methods, medical journals, maps.

The future. Devin struggled to think beyond surviving a day at a time.

With a heavy sigh, he got to his feet and brushed down the back of his jeans. He couldn’t hide here forever.

“Time to go.” He stood for a moment and stared into John’s pale eyes. When the monster angled his head, Devin mirrored the move. Was it cruel to leave it locked up? It had been a person once. Someone’s son, maybe a brother, a father. Did it deserve the mercy of death or should it be left to rot?

His mind went to the terrible memories he had from Chicago. He had been close to death. He had felt himself slipping away and becoming one of those things, undead and nonhuman. Whoever John had been, he wasn’t in there anymore.

Devin felt out the hilt of his handgun and ran his fingers over the clasp of his holster. “Sorry. Not today.” He lowered his hand to his side. Though he was certain it was the right decision, he needed to talk to Emily first. He had to be sure there was nothing left for her or Prescott to learn from the walking corpse about the virus.

The freak gnashed its teeth and continued its futile struggle to reach Devin.

Not today. Devin passed the cell. He pushed open the door, stopping abruptly when he almost walked into Lukas.

“Hey,” Devin said and gazed along the corridor. Lukas appeared to be alone.

Lukas didn’t say anything at first, he just looked wearily at Devin.

“Everything okay?” Devin pulled the door closed, locking it before slipping the key into the pocket of his jeans.

“It’s still alive,” Lukas stated. “I thought with Corden gone maybe things had changed.”

Devin folded his arms across his chest. Lukas’s tone had him on the defensive. “It’s secure. And until Emily or Prescott say otherwise, we keep it…alive.”

Lukas lowered his head, and Devin relaxed a little.

“I really thought we had something with Chicago,” Lukas said. “I thought maybe everything we went through getting there had been for something.”

People had died in order to get Noah to Chicago, including Lukas’s young partner, Fry. Devin remembered the man’s hand around his as the last moments of life flowed from him, red and sticky as he lay on the floor in the back of some pharmacy. Devin had been the one to discharge that final round. He’d made sure Fry didn’t come back.

Lukas met Devin’s eyes, seeming to scrutinize everything about them. “What do you see when you look in the mirror?”

Devin pursed his lips and shrugged. “I know I don’t recognize the man looking back at me.” I haven’t in a long time.

“Because of…?” Lukas nodded in Devin’s direction, and averted his gaze.

“Not just these.” Devin raised his hand to the side of his head and indicated his eyes. “So much has happened. I guess it changes you.”

Lukas tensed. “Changes you,” he repeated.

“Lukas?” Something didn’t feel right. “Is there a problem?”

“No,” Lukas said quickly, but the look in his eyes said something else.

Devin studied the man. He didn’t know Lukas that well, but he was sure, with everything that they had gone through getting to Chicago, Lukas had to be more than just some mercenary who had fallen in with Corden for simple perks.

“There are a lot of people here. Families. If there’s something I need to know—”

“It’s nothing,” Lukas said.

“Hey. You came to me.”

Lukas nodded. “I know.” He drew his lower lip beneath his tongue, moistening it. “It’s just as you said. A lot has happened. People change, do things they normally wouldn’t.”

Things they wouldn’t normally do? Who was he talking about?

Sure a lot had happened, but what else? Something in Chicago or on the road since its fall?

Devin sucked his teeth. Errors of the past weighed upon him. Could he really let Lukas dismiss whatever concerns he had?

“Okay.” Devin couldn’t leave it there. “Look, I get things are difficult right now and I don’t know, maybe you don’t trust us.” He glanced back at the door to the lower cells. “But believe me when I say I will do anything to keep the people here safe. So I need you to tell me if we have a problem. You know better than most what can happen if we turn a blind eye and keep things to ourselves.” He looked at Lukas. “Is it about Chicago? Do you know something else?”

Lukas shook his head.

“What about the men you came in with?”

Lukas lifted his head at the mention of his companions.

“The Chicago survivors. They were examined for injuries. We didn’t find anything.”

“It’s not them.” Lukas checked over his shoulder. “Not really. Not Chicago.”

“The ones you met up with?”

“They’re different from us. Willing to make the tough choices.”

Devin chewed on his lip. “Tough in what way?”

“When we were on the road… I mean it had been days since we’d had food or water.” Regret clouded Lukas’ eyes. “It wasn’t supposed to go down like it did.”

Devin straightened. “I’m not going to like this am I?”

“We ran into this other group. There was five or six of them, I think. I keep telling myself they shot first, because they did. But that doesn’t excuse what happened.” Lukas shifted his weight. “All of us were desperate, hungry, exhausted. I just wonder whether things might have gone differently if I’d tried harder. Maybe both groups would have walked away.”

Devin closed his eyes and blew out a breath. With all the tension with Jonas and his men, the family and their sick child, this wasn’t what Devin wanted to hear. He felt as if he was juggling grenades, waiting for one to blow up. He opened his eyes. “Are we going to have a problem?”

“I don’t think so,” Lukas said after a short pause.

“You don’t think so?”

The group Lukas had come in with had been cleared of infection and had been given the same freedoms everybody had. He didn’t need to be constantly watching over his shoulder and monitoring them.

“In here it isn’t like out there.” Lukas seemed to be trying to rationalize his thoughts. He altered his footing and stared into Devin’s eyes. “No. There won’t be a problem.” If he was hoping to reassure Devin, he had failed. “I’ll keep an eye on them.”

Was Lukas’s word enough? Devin didn’t think it was, but he also felt as if he didn’t have a choice but to put his faith in that word. Sure he could confront them, demand they leave. He just didn’t think that was the smartest idea. Too much had changed too fast, and there were too many new faces. Everybody was tense, wound tight, desperate enough to do something stupid if pushed.

We have to keep a lid on this. We have to stay in control and work together.

Devin stepped forward and gripped Lukas’s shoulder. “I don’t know everything that happened. I wasn’t there. I get that things were crazy and people did what they had to do to survive. But I can’t have that brought in here.” He squeezed Lukas’s shoulder. “If you hear anything at all, you bring it straight to me or Jack. Okay?”

Lukas nodded. He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of one of the security gates swinging shut with a bang.

“Lukas?” For the sake of their home, Devin needed Lukas and him to be on the same page.

“Yeah, you or Jack.” He looked at Devin. “I got it.”

Devin released Lukas’s shoulder. “What happened to you, the people you escaped with back in Chicago was horrible, and it’s not often you get a second chance. This is yours. Like you said, people died. They died for Chicago, for a dream of the future, but people have died for this place too. Died so we had food, shelter, for us to survive.”

“I got it.” Lukas briefly touched the top of Devin’s arm, a gentle pat as way of reassuring him. He leaned forward, tensed his jaw and said with confidence, “Trust me.”