Zack hesitated before he headed toward the front of the house. Defenses? That was still hanging heavy in his mind. Cody looked at him expectantly, already a few steps ahead of him along the fence, his eyes asking Zack if he was coming. Zack took one more look at the window and followed his brother.

They reached the garage and heard sounds of bolts being thrown coming from behind the door. After a few seconds it began sliding up on its tracks and revealed a man standing on the smooth concrete with a shotgun leaning on a massive shoulder standing in front of a truck with its hood popped open. He looks like a barrel with arms and legs, Zack thought, trying to classify him. He almost had to take a step back to take him fully in. He might be old but Zack wouldn't bet against him in a fight.

As they were looking him over, he was doing the same to them. "A little surprised to see two boys by themselves around here these days," he said. "Why don't you two come on in? This is a quiet little corner of zombieland but we still get our fair share of foot traffic." The twins stepped into the relative cool of the garage and watched as the man lowered the door back and locked it tight. Cody noticed the SWAT stenciled on the back of his shirt while the man was bent over and latching a bottom lock.

"I don't know if you two are hungry but Martha, that's my wife, is just about finished fixing dinner. She always makes too much and it'll be nice not to be the one to eat it all for a change. It's not much unless you like Spam, which I personally don't, but she can make it taste like something better than hot mush." He looked at the twins, waiting for any sort of response. "Boo!" he said, and they both jumped. "Just checking to make sure you were alive," he grinned after they flinched and stepped back.

"Sorry, sir. I guess we're a little surprised to find anyone living here," Cody said.

"No zombie horde is going to drive me off my property, son. I helped build this house, paid it off, and I plan on dying here one day. What's your names, boys?"

"I'm Cody and he's Zack," Cody told him. Zack paid attention to his brother's exchanges with the man and could already see Cody relaxing in his company. He swallowed a frown. There'd be time to deal with that later.

"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Tom Marshall and you'll meet my darling wife Martha in a moment. Let's go inside and you two can take a load off. Bet you haven't been able to sit down and not worry in a while, huh?"

"No sir," Cody replied. "Not since we left Boston."

"Boston, huh? I always hated that city. Can't help but believe they kind of got what they deserved when it all went down. But that's neither here nor there," Tom said as he led them up the three steps into the house. "Hun, I got two starving boys here for dinner. Think we can help them out a bit?"

"Sure we can," the woman said from the stove as they came into the kitchen. Cody wasn't sure what the smell in the air was, but he liked it and his stomach rumbled. "I heard that, young man. We'll take care of that little problem."

"We don't want to eat up your supplies, ma'am," Cody offered.

"Nonsense. We've got plenty," Tom countered, "and we can always get more. But if it'll make you feel better, you can help around here a little. Some things aren't as easy for me as they used to be."

"We can do that," Cody told him, looking over at Zack for confirmation.

"Yeah, we'll help," Zack parroted, speaking for the first time.

"He can talk. I was beginning to wonder."

"You leave the boy alone, Tom," his wife chided. "He's probably been through a lot." She went to the window and shut the CD player off.

"I was just having a little fun with him." He turned back to the twins. "Why don't you two go wash up. There's a bathroom at the end of the hall with a jug of water and some soap." He pointed and the boys headed down the hallway.

"They seem pretty normal," Cody said softly as they lathered up their hands.

"I guess so," Zack agreed. "So far at least."

"Maybe because they are, Zack. Stop being so paranoid. Not everyone is out to get us."

"Don't start this argument again because you aren't going to win it with me. You are the only person I completely trust, Cody, and that isn't going to change any time soon." Zack dipped his hands in the water and rinsed off, suddenly too irritated with his brother to even flick the water in his face. He dried off and tossed the towel back down on the counter. Cody rinsed and drained the sink and followed Zack back to the kitchen after he used and refolded the towel.

"Have a seat and dig in, boys," Tom told them as he pulled the chairs out. "It might not be Olive Garden but it'll stick to your ribs."

"I don't care what it's not," Cody said, "it smells delicious." Martha smiled a grandmotherly smile at him. After being told to not be shy and fill their plates, the boys began inhaling the first real meal they'd had in almost three weeks. Zack settled for seconds while Cody shocked him and went for thirds. Dinner was eventually over and they both had full bellies. Cody wiped his mouth and leaned back in his chair.

"Mr. Marshall, if you don't mind me asking, how have you two stayed here and lived, um, I guess the words I'm looking for are almost normal."

The man smiled at Cody and put his napkin on his plate. "This is going to sound like crazy person talk to you, I bet, but it goes a little something like this. When the news first broke of something really bad happening on the coast I got this feeling, like it was time to get prepared, so I maxed out the credit cards at Home Depot and came home and put the fence up the same day. Wasn't the two days later and we had our first zombies walking around the neighborhood. Not really worried about paying the interest on the card, either. MasterCard's going to have to write that one off.

"Day after that we went and got us all the food and water we could load into the back of my truck. By then just about everyone had already been bit or left town so we had our pick of anything we wanted. Tell you what, boys, I'm not a fan of anything that's not fresh after my time in the Marines, but I'll happily munch on some Spam and soup and whatever else until these zombies fall apart.

"Day after that, I left Martha at home and made a little trip to the old National Guard armory with my 12-gauge lock pick and got some goodies. Remember when I said I had to turn off the defenses earlier? I got tired of shooting zombies off the fence and dragging them to the ditch behind the house so I wired some claymores along the bottom of the house just in case they manage to get over it."

"I wouldn't call that crazy person talk. I'd call that being smart and prepared," Cody told him.

"Hear that, Martha? Someone agrees with me." Martha harrumphed him and went about cleaning up the remains of dinner.

"What happened to your truck, Mr. Marshall?" Zack thought he caught a scowl crossing the man's face for a fraction of a second after Cody asked the question but it disappeared so fast he wasn't sure.

"That old cantankerous sonofabitch-"

"Tom!" his wife scolded, "language."

"Sorry, that old cantankerous piece of crap died on me a week or so ago while I was on the way back with a load of water. I had to push it a good two miles back to the house." He leaned toward Cody in what would have been a conspiratorial way if it weren't for the grin on his face. "And in case you didn't notice I'm not exactly in tip-top shape anymore but don't tell my wife I admitted that to you." Cody smiled back at him and Zack pasted a fake grin on when the man looked his way.

"Have you seen many other people around here since the zombies showed up?"

"More than I imagined, to be honest, Cody. I'd say I've seen about a dozen pass by since it happened. About half of those stayed for a day or two before they moved on. Our neighbors from the end of the cul-de-sac were here for a bit, too.

"Wow," Cody exclaimed, "that's a lot more than we've seen."

"I've also talked to a group of people on the shortwave," Tom continued, "They're about half an hour away and we did a bit of trading."

"Oh?" Cody was a little surprised and he looked over at his brother with see, not everyone is bad look that was ignored.

"Yep. I gave them some stuff we weren't using and they gave us a bunch of propane and some other supplies. I'm hoping that I can get a generator and some gas out of them next time around. Just have to find everything they want for something that big."

"There's all sorts of things just laying around now. You should just ask them what they need and see if you can find it," Cody told him.

"Oh I did, trust me. I already have two of the things on their list."

"Maybe we can help you with that while we're here, too."

"Maybe you can, Cody. Maybe you can. We'll see." Tom patted Cody's arm and after Zack saw how his brother was all but melting into the man's hands, it was all he could do to not just Cody to go sit on his lap and let grandpa pull a quarter out of his ear.

The conversation went into a slight lull while the oil lamps were lit and the boys indulged in some of Martha's homemade cookies. They tried to beg off but she insisted, claiming that she'd made them and someone had to eat them before they went stale. "I have gas for the stove but that was the last of the butter. If they goes to waste it would be a shame," she told them and both boys found room.

"So you boys made it all this way from Boston with just your wits, huh? No guns?" Tom asked when they were finished and feeling like they could pop at any second. Zack nearly had to unsnap the button on his cargo shorts.

"No, we have a gun. We took a pistol off a dead man a few days ago," Cody told him after a sip of water, shuddering slightly at the memory.

"Actually, no we don't," Zack piped in quietly.

"What? What do you mean we don't?" Cody whirled on Zack.

"I mean that at some point I lost it."

"How the hell did you manage that?"

"I don't know, Cody, it just happened. I'm pretty sure I had it after we left the wrecked truck but I could be wrong."

"Are you kidding me? We went the better part of the day with no gun? When were you planning on telling me this?"

"I just realized it a little while ago, Cody, I swear. I noticed a little while after we left the second car and then we heard their music and I forgot."

Cody looked like he was ready to punch Zack. "Jeez, Zack. Do you think it's possible for you to be any more irresponsible? I mean..." he finished his statement with a cross between a cry and a roar.

"Easy now, Cody," Tom said as he put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "He didn't mean to do it, right Zack?" Zack shook his head no. "See? It was an accident."

"Maybe so, but now when we leave here we won't have a gun until we come across another one."

"We found that one, Cody, we'll find another." Cody still looked mad enough to spit nails.

"Yeah, it took us more than a week to find it."

"Calm down, son. Take it easy. I couldn't let you two leave here like that. I'm ex-military and ex-cop, remember? I have more guns than I could ever think about using locked away upstairs. Before you go, I'll get you both something to take with you."

"Really? Thanks, Mr. Marshall," Cody exclaimed and Zack thought his brother was going to hug the man.

"It's not a problem. And it makes me not have to sound like an ass and ask you to turn it over while you're here. I'm sure you know how to handle them but I don't like to take chances."

"We weren't very good with it anyway," Cody told him and Zack wanted to backhand his brother across the face but put his hands in his lap instead.

The light had gone out of the sky and the night was getting long. According to his watch, it was only a bit after nine but it felt closer to midnight to Zack. He yawned and rubbed his eyes. His mistrust of their hosts, unfounded as it was (for the time being, he reminded himself) wasn't going to get in the way of a good night's sleep. He yawned a second time and it was quickly echoed by his brother.

"Boys, it won't hurt our feelings any if you two want to turn in for the night," Martha told them after Cody stretched and sighed. "We're not the most exciting people in the world and I'm sure you could use the rest."

"I think we'll take you up on that offer, Mrs. Marshall. At least I will," Cody told her as he stood. "You coming, Zack?"

"Yeah, I think so. Thank you both for taking us in. We really appreciate it."

"You're welcome. There's a spare bedroom right beside the bathroom. It's only got one bed in it but it's a big mattress if you don't mind sharing."

"That will be fine, Mrs. Marshall. Zack and I have shared a bed before."

"Then it's settled. You boys go to bed and don't worry about getting up until you're ready. There aren't that many chores to do around here these days." Zack and Cody said their goodnights and another round of thank yous before retiring to the back bedroom. Cody lit a lamp and sat his bag on the bed and began rooting through it for a change of clothes.

"I guess after you change you're going to tell me I'm wrong about these people, right?" Zack said as he closed and locked the door.

"No, I'm not. It won't do me any good since you won't listen," Cody said, taking off his shirt and putting it next to his bag. "But what I will ask is this: what is it about them that makes you so sure they're going to try to kill us in our sleep?"

"I don't know that they're going to do anything like that, Cody. You might be right-they might be perfectly normal-but I don't know that. Can you at least see what I'm saying?"

"I can, but I still don't see what it is you're seeing about them."

"It's...I don't know what it is, exactly. You know how you hear lightning during the summer and you don't know what direction it came from?"

"I could have come up with a million better analogies and you hear thunder, not lightning, but yes, I think I know what you mean. Unfocused?"

"Yes. That's it. It's a very unfocused feeling. Like there's something just outside your field of vision and you know it's there but you can't figure out what it is. Blurry."

"I get it. I don't see it, but I get it." Cody dropped his shorts and slid into bed. "You planning on staying up all night or something?" he asked after Zack hadn't made the first motion to get ready for bed.

"I'm going to go wash up a little first. I feel grimy. Wouldn't mind another pool to take a bath in."

"We'll find a stream or something soon and we can clean up," Cody said as he laid his head on the pillow and got comfortable. "Just don't wake me up when you finally crawl into bed, okay?"

"I won't. Sleep tight, Cody."

"'Night, Zack."

Zack waited a few minutes until Cody was out for the night before he started getting ready for bed. Once he heard the reassuring sounds of deep breathing, he pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside. Zack then checked his brother again before reaching behind him and pulling the pistol from the small of his back. "Sorry, bro. I'll make it up to you later, promise. Something isn't right around here," said Zack as he stripped and redressed in clean clothes. He checked the safety and slid it down the front of his shorts and pulled his shirt down over it. "I'll just tell Cody it's morning wood if he notices," Zack said with a wry smile. He pulled back his half of the covers and slid silently beneath them.

The couple sat in the soft light for a while as they waited for the boys to fall asleep. Martha was flipping through an old cooking magazine while Tom nipped at a beer. They would exchange the occasional glance and she would look away before the inevitable argument started. It was coming and they both knew it. Tom just hoped she'd let him finish his beer before it happened. She did, barely.

"I still don't think this is right. What we're doing to these poor boys," she said as he sat the bottle on the small table.

"You didn't complain last time we turned people over and unless I'm mistaken, you're the one that turns the music on every day. Where do you think all the food in the basement came from? It sure wasn't from me hauling my ass all over town in that damn truck and collecting it, that's for sure. It would have taken us, no, taken me, a month to scavenge up that much. We're set now. And I think we might be able to get a genny out of the guys this time. Tell me that wouldn't make things a lot better around here?"

"I still don't like it."

"Then leave. Pack yourself a bag and go. Those two are going to die anyway. The nerdy one's days were numbered the minute he stepped outside his posh little hotel. For all that matters, he's already dead. He just doesn't know it yet. And the chubby, silent one? Shit. He's trying to act all tough but he doesn't have a clue. It's a good thing he dropped that pistol because he'd likely hold it backwards and shoot himself in the face." He looked his wife over. "And don't you tell me to think about what'll happen to them. I don't care."

"You should."

"I don't." Tom rolled his eyes in the lamplight and switched his tactics, remembering an old saying that it was easier to catch flies with honey than vinegar. "Look, it's like this. When I married you all those years ago I promised to take care of you through thick and thin. It's pretty damn thin now. You're more important to me than a pair of little snot-nosed brats."

Martha sighed and leaned back in her chair. "It's not fair for us to make them trade chips, Tom."

He didn't reply immediately, choosing to take a second and control his voice so he didn't wake up his sleeping guests. "Maybe it's not, but the concept of fair is kind of irrelevant at this point, wouldn't you say? I personally don't think that having the living dead walking around my town is fair but they're here, moaning and groaning and doing the zombie shuffle out there on my streets and keeping me up at night. That's not fair."

"Those boys could make it out there, Tom. They're young and resourceful."

"Bullshit, Martha. They've made it this far, I'll give them that, but it's been nothing but luck. Not skill or resourcefulness. They're dumb city kids who think they're survivalists now. Just luck. And luck eventually runs dry."

"Make the call, then," she said. "Nothing I say is going to change your mind."

"No, it won't. It didn't change my mind with those white trash neighbors of ours and their little bastard child, it didn't change it with the two others groups we've turned over, either."

"I'm going to bed," she announced curtly and got up. I'll bring some blankets out here while you're on the radio."

Tom snorted to himself as she left the room. "I'm bringing home the bacon and I have to sleep on the couch, huh? That's pretty fucking rich, Martha," he muttered. "I ought to tell them to take your ass, too." He got up and retrieved a beer bottle from the refrigerator and popped it open. It was room temperature but old habits die hard. He shut the door with his hip and walked to the garage. Tom took a deep sip from the bottle while he waited for his old shortwave radio to warm up.

"Spider, this is Web, do you copy?" he said after the box began to hum softly.

I swear I need to plan a week of nothing but nonstop go-go-go instead of a week of doing nothing and then maybe things will turn out the way I want. Sheesh. I'd like to take a second to thank all the reviewers since I haven't done it in replies in a while. Thanks, guys and gals. This chapter was written mostly to random videos on Palladia and a little bit of UL basketball as well.

Speaking of, the BigEast and NCAA tournaments are coming up and that's like my month-long Christmas. I'm going to do my best to get at least two chapters out during the tourney but...yeah. Multiple Louisville wins and a Kentucky early-round loss will make me a very happy writer, btw, so you now know who to cheer for and against to get quicker updates!