I woke to the sound of yelling.
Bolting upright, I nearly knocked Lilly off of the bed. I could hear Amelia screaming something, but I couldn't quite make out what she was saying. But by the time I got outside, I understood.
Christine and Matthew were gone.
My first thought was that they'd simply snuck off during the night, while their minds were still functioning normally enough for them to believe they could make it out. But the fact that Amelia was still here contradicted that idea, suggesting her friends hadn't left voluntarily.
Lilly was right behind me and tried to calm Amelia, while I headed for the little shack where the three of them had been staying. I walked around the building, looking closely at the ground as I went. The footprints were easy to spot. There were three sets, and I didn't need to be a detective to see there had been a scuffle. The half-dead grass was dotted with flecks of blood. The tracks headed off into the woods and I followed them, but I didn't have to go far. If not for being a Zombie, I probably would've thrown up.
Matthew and Christine were each sitting upright with their backs against separate trees—mouths gagged—arms pulled back behind the trunks and tied with rope. Their throats had been slit from ear to ear. Blood covered everything—the bodies, the ground, the surrounding vegetation. I'd never seen so much of the stuff in one place. But the worst part was their eyes. They'd died with them open, staring up in horror as the killer had taken their lives. He'd written the word "GUILTY" on each of their foreheads with a permanent marker.
Realizing that GW could still be in the immediate vicinity, I turned and hurried back toward camp. We were all in immediate danger, including my wife and son. As I walked out of the trees, I could hear Amelia talking about how she'd woken up and found her friends gone, and how they'd never just run off and leave her.
All eyes turned to me as approached. Everyone was present. "I know where Matthew and Christine are," I said, glancing nervously around the perimeter of the camp.
"Where?" Amelia asked, looking suddenly hopeful.
I hung my head and sighed, "They're back up in the trees," I said, pointing in the direction where I'd found them. "Dead."
A huge commotion erupted. I held my hands up to quieten them down.
"What happened, Jack?" my mom asked.
"Trust me—you don't want details. There's nothing we can do."
"My friends are dead and you want me to just forget about them?!" Amelia said, her voice shrill. She stepped around me and started toward the tree-line in the direction of the bodies.
I grabbed her arm. "Look, I'm sorry about your friends," I said, keeping my voice as even as I could. "But there's nothing you can do. And believe me, it won't make you feel better to see what's been done to them. Right now, we have to figure out how we're going to survive."
She gave me a hard look, then pulled away. I thought she was going to continue into the woods, but instead, she spun around, said a few choice words, and stormed off toward her building. I started to go after her, but Steven stepped in front of me.
"I'll get her, Jack."
He followed Amelia, and I turned back to the others. "We can't stay here," I said, "Whoever this person is, he's now made it clear that he won't just wait around while we starve or try to escape. He's going to pick us off, one or two at a time."
"You think we'll be safer out there?" Jon asked.
"No," I answered honestly. "But at least if we're trying to escape, we have a chance. Here," I gestured around us, "we'll just be waiting around to see who gets it next. I got lucky with that boar. How long until we're going hungry again? Hungry and sluggish. No, we should make plans to leave very soon."
