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a stop, she hit the break and put the Jeep in park.

“Okay, now we can address…” She turned around in her seat. “You.”

The boy blinked, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Hi there,” Caitlin said, offering a smile. “You got a name?”

His dirty blond hair was matted to his forehead, and a sheen of sweat covered his face.

They waited for him to speak, but he only stared.

Before Caitlin could ask again, he scrambled to open the door and bent over, throwing up into the grass.

Booker sighed. “Guess he ain’t a hardened killer.”

The boy heaved once more before groaning softly.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I get car sick.”

Looking to Caitlin, Booker laughed.

“Oh stop,” she told him, smacking his arm.

It only made Booker laugh harder.

“Jackass.”

Pulling a water bottle out from their supply bag, Nicole handed it to the boy.

“What’s your name, son?” Booker asked as he washed his mouth out.

Spitting and wiping his mouth, the kid straightened.

“Travis.”

Caitlin smiled. “Nice to meet you, Travis. That’s Booker and Nicole. And I’m Caitlin.”

He looked around the Jeep at the others, still a little stunned. “You… saved me.”

“Nearly shot you first,” Booker said, shifting in his seat. “Thought you were a groaner.”

“A what?”

“A Geek,” Caitlin said.

“You mean a zombie?”

Nicole leaned closer a fraction. “Yeah, I don’t know why they can’t just call them that either.”

Travis fumbled with the plastic bottle cap. “Um… I…” He looked up. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Caitlin said. “Now, what the hell were you doing out there with only a plank of wood and no back up?”

Fear and suspicion clouded his gaze as he watched them for a moment.

Not that Caitlin could blame him.

“My… My brother has a fever,” he said finally. “There’s a farmhouse a little ways away. I thought… I’m the fastest in my group, I thought I could just outrun the zombies.”

Caitlin gave Booker a knowing glance.

“Please, I have to go back,” Travis said. “I have to get the medicine he needs—"

“Kid, hey,” Booker interrupted, a strong hand on Travis’ shoulder. “We ain’t gonna just drop you in the middle of a field and wish ya luck.”

“Then, I’ll…” Travis started reaching for the door, but Nicole stopped him.

“What I meant was,” Booker continued. “We’ll take y’back to your group safely.”

Travis shook his head, worry creasing his forehead. “Kyle is sick, he needs—”

“Aspirin,” Caitlin said simply. “And probably an antibiotic. Both of which we have.”

All his nervous fidgeting came to a halt as Travis stared at her.

“Really?”

“Yep,” she said with a nod. “And we’re happy to share.”

Relief rippled through Travis as he sank back against the seat.

Caitlin glanced to Booker and Nicole before adding, “All for the low, low price of a conversation.”

* * * * * * *

Pulling up to the gravel drive, Caitlin wanted to laugh.

“A church?” She asked, gaze in the rearview. “Seriously?”

“It was the only place big enough to hold all of us,” Travis said, sitting forward.

Just as she was about to pull up, Booker’s hand covered hers on the wheel, making her stop.

He turned, staring the boy down.

“Just how big is your group?”

“Twenty-seven,” Travis said. “There used to be more, but…”

Booker frowned. “Twenty-seven of y’all, and nobody went with you on that run?”

“I told you, I’m the fastest.” Travis glanced between them. “It’ll make more sense when you’re inside.”

Reluctantly, Booker released Caitlin’s hand and nodded once.

Go ahead.

Stay sharp.

She drove them closer, watching for movement at the doors or windows. Parking a safe distance away, they waited a moment to see if anyone would emerge.

Travis confidently flung open his door and climbed out of the Jeep.

“It’s okay,” he called to them. “Come on.”

Caitlin looked over to Booker and Nicole. “Don’t get too close. Don’t separate. Hide a weapon on you.”

Nicole retrieved her scavenged pocket knife and slid it into her sock, while Booker pulled his shirt over his KBAR.

Caitlin tucked the revolver into the back of her jeans, covering it with the oversized flannel shirt she’d borrowed from Booker.

Exiting the Jeep, they scanned the surrounding area for anything dangerous, human or otherwise.

The church was old and weathered, with whitewashed siding and painted shutters. The steeple looked battered from a storm or three, but it still stood.

Only fields and grass surrounded it, and in the distance was a small cemetery marked with a stone perimeter and iron gate.

Travis jogged up the front steps, knocking three times on the wooden door.

The sounds of a barricade being moved were followed by the rusted hinges squeaking as someone opened the door.

“Trav—” A man’s voice cut short. “Who’s this?”

“They helped me, saved me from a big herd of zombies,” Travis explained. “They have what Kyle needs. They just wanna talk.”

A hand grabbed Travis by the shoulder, pulling him safely inside. Then the man inched further out, eyeing the others.

“Is that true?” He called.

Caitlin took a step forward, hands out by her sides in clear view.

“We were clearing the road of Geeks when Travis stumbled across us,” she said. “He told us about his brother… That he’s sick and needs something for his fever.”

The man—on the latter end of fifty, with greying dark hair and beard—squinted down at them, waiting for the catch.

“We have plenty of aspirin to spare, and some antibiotics,” she continued. “We’re happy to give you some.”

“We don’t have anything to trade,” the man said, about to move back inside.

Booker inched closer. “We ain’t lookin’ for supplies,” he said. “We just wanted to ask y’all a few questions before we went on our way.”

Intrigued, the man halted. “Questions?”

“Yes, sir. We’re looking for a place, but we ain’t got the first clue where it might be. We figured

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