37

As the sun crosses over the Old Pine Woods for its nightly descent, and you and Heather decide to head back to the Cathedral, you pick up your pace to make it back by nightfall. The day's work was better than expected, and with the small game and berries and plants you've foraged, the survivors will have a few more days of food.

"I need to pee," Heather says in a matter-of-fact tone, and she steps off the path behind a bush.

Left alone, you listen to the sounds of the woods: the hum of insects, the chirping of crickets, the slow whistle of wind, and the distant call of birds. The forest seems alive again, like all things native before the outbreak have returned. In fact, you've crossed no zombies nor bandits and wonder if the world has turned back in time.

"Come here," Heather calls out in whispers, and you turn to see her crouched behind a tree, zipping her jeans, a look of confusion and surprise on her face. You hurry over, and she waves you behind a row of bushes into a small clearing where lie the signs of a well-hidden campsite. Long green, mesh mosquito nets hang from tall branches and are covered in foliage to camouflage what lies behind. One end hangs down to reveal the camp. A few blankets are laid out to provide flooring, a backpack and duffel bag are pushed against a tree, and a pit with a few pieces of charcoal is set outside the blankets. A pot is upturned beside a folded quilt, and you smell garlic and onions. A coloring book showing comic-style animals is open near the quilt, and two small Barbie dolls sit on the cover, their clothes immaculate, hair straight and long.

Heather kneels beside the pit and waves her hand over the coals like a sorceress casting a spell.

"The pit's still warm. They must not be far. What should we do?"