“Yeah, well, you had a body then.” I looked at the folder in my hands, willing it to open of its own accord. That way I wouldn’t actually have to decide whether or not I was going to stop. Once it was open, I could just read.

Shaun—

“Leave it.”

She sighed. I knew that sigh. I knew all her sighs. This was the “Shaun, stop being stupid” sigh, usually reserved for when I needed to be pushed into doing something she considered sensible. I won’t let you dream.

I froze.

George didn’t say anything after that. I could feel her waiting at the edges of my mind, eternally patient, at least where my well-being was concerned. I swallowed again before I leaned back in the chair, closing my eyes. “You can still surprise me,” I said.

Good. Now get up, and get on the couch.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Maggie’s couch proved to be surprisingly comfortable once I’d cleared everything off it and piled it all on the floor. I turned off the light before taking off my shirt and shoes, leaving my jeans on, just in case we needed to make an early-morning getaway. I was asleep almost before my head hit the pillow.

George was true to her word. If I dreamed that night, I don’t remember it.

I woke to the sound of voices in the next room, pitched at that harsh semi-stage-whisper level that everyone seems to think is unobtrusive, despite being impossible to ignore. Something about the sound of people whispering touches off a primordial red alert in the back of the brain. I probably wouldn’t have noticed if they’d just spoken quietly in normal voices. At least no one was screaming; that meant we’d all probably managed to live through the night. Survival is always a nice thing to wake up to.

Sitting up was hard. My back was stiff from spending several hours on the bike, followed by several more hours sitting on the floor and trying to study. I may not spend as much time in the field as I used to, but that hasn’t made me a bookworm or anything. Who knew being a geek would hurt? Groaning, I braced my elbows on my knees and dropped my head into my hands. The voices from the kitchen stopped. Zombies don’t groan, they moan, but the two can sound almost identical to the untrained ear. Of the four people in the house with me, only Becks had the field experience necessary to know that whatever had made that sound was alive. Just cranky.