“I may be getting old,” mused the man, “but I’m not senile. Not yet, at least.”

She cursed.

“Jeez, they teach you those words in school? What is the world coming to?”

He balanced the magazine atop a small rock that lay between them. Lilah knew that even without her injuries she could never get it, slap it into place, rack the slide, and fire before the man and the dog were on her.

She lowered the gun.

The man smiled and picked up a metal spoon to stir a small pot of soup that hung over a tiny fire. The soup smelled wonderful.

“Who are you?” she asked again.

“Well, I’m not Tom Imura, that’s for sure, I think we can both agree on that. Maybe you don’t know the man, but he’s Japanese and I’m a blond-haired, blue-eyed all-American boy from Baltimore.”

“When I first saw you . . . you were in shadows,” she said. “And you have the same sword.”

The man nodded at the sword slung on the ground. “Similar sword,” he corrected. “Tom carries a Paul Chen kami katana, or he did last time I saw him. And he slings his over his shoulder.”

Lilah said nothing.

“My name’s Joe,” he said, then jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the dog. “That’s Grimm. He’s the brains of this outfit, and he’s made it pretty clear that I exist to fetch and carry for him.”

Grimm made a wet, glopping sound with his mouth. Perhaps it was an agreement.

“We’re in a safe place,” Joe continued. “No bad guys, no walkers.”

Lilah looked around. They were in a natural shelter formed by two massive red boulders. A quad motorcycle was parked in the shade. Joe noticed her looking at it.

“Before you ask,” he said, “no—I’m not a reaper.”

“Then who are you?” she said once more. “And why did you help me back there?”

“Is that a serious question?”

“Of course.”

“Well, let’s see. Girl. Hurt girl, actually. Bunch of freaking zombie pigs that want to eat hurt girl. Hmmm, why’d I step in? Truth is, I slept badly last night, woke with a kink in my shoulder, and as everyone knows, there’s no better way to loosen up old joints than to go chop-socky on a couple of zombie pigs. Well-known fact.”

She glowered at him. “That’s a stupid answer.”

“No,” he corrected, “it’s a silly answer. The question was pretty silly too, don’t you think?” Before Lilah could organize a comeback, Joe dipped a tin cup into the steaming pot. “Have some soup.”

She tried to think of a really good reason to refuse his offer. She wanted to smash it out of his hand and use the confusion to run, but she was positive that her injuries would slow her down. The dog would catch her and tear her apart.