“The buzzards wait for it to die, not knowing that it’s already dead. By the number of them, they have been waiting a long time.”

“My neighbors have long since left, or they are dead. Some I killed. It was either kill or be eaten alive, which is not on my top-ten list of ways to die.”

“You should just expect the worst. The world just isn’t what it used to be.”

“Blood is pounding in my ears. Lingering smoke and tequila fill my nostrils as adrenaline courses through my veins. My lips curl into a smile. The only thing that would make this night more perfect is if I had killed some zombies.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he gasps so close to my ear I can feel his breath, a deep voice reverberating through my body. He has a soothing soft southern accent as if his family lived in the south for generations. He puts more pressure on my head effectively diminishing the soothing part. I also hope that’s a gun pressed against my thigh. For that, I'm not going to give him the satisfaction of backing down easy.”

“He lifts my head up as he gets off the bed and kneels down until we are eye level.I love you Abby. I’ll wait as long as it takes for you to come back to me.”

“The water you kids were playing in, he said, had probably been to Africa and the North Pole. Genghis Khan or Saint Peter or even Jesus may have drunk it. Cleopatra might have bathed in it. Crazy Horse might have watered his pony with it. Sometimes water was liquid. Sometimes it was rock hard- ice. Sometimes it was soft- snow. Sometimes it was visible but weightless- clouds. And sometimes it was completely invisible- vapor- floating up into the the sky like the soals of dead people. There was nothing like water in the world, Jim said. It made the desert bloom but also turned rich bottomland into swamp. Without it we'd die, but it could also kill us, and that was why we loved it, even craved it, but also feared it. Never take water forgranted, Jim said. Always cherish it. Always beware of it.”