He ignored the gibbering and pleading of the scientist as he lit the Bunsen burner.
He was almost there when he heard the first gunshot ring out, and his ghostly body went cold.
Pil knew they could not be the only ones still alive in the tunnel.
“I have you, sweetie,” he said, softly into the boy’s ear.
The dogs were gazing out over the city, with sad eyes and longing on their quivering muzzles.
It’s going to be a beautiful evening for an apocalypse, Sutton Deary thought.
And then the screaming started.
For just a moment, the three were one, their foreheads touching, like a triad of reunited lovers.
The conversation had turned away from their duty to their survival.
The Avenues were feeling less like an abandoned suburb, and more like a battlefield under siege.