‘This is Cardboard,’ Patrick said.

‘That’s a cool name for a pig,’ Charlie said.

There were some of Patrick’s clothes in the bag, but it was jumbled with dirty bras and Mikey’s crusty boxers. After a rummage with her gloved hand, Charlie found a pair of green soccer shorts.

‘Take those dirty briefs off and put these on,’ Charlie said, flicking the shorts to Patrick as she spotted toddler sized Nikes with Velcro fastenings.

Patrick wore a serious expression as he sat on the floor, pulling on the shorts. ‘Are you allowed to take me away?’ he asked thoughtfully.

‘It’s just until we sort things out,’ Charlie said, peeling back the Velcro tabs to open the shoes. ‘You can’t stay here, can you? There’s nobody to look after you.’

Patrick considered this as he fully stretched the waistband of the shorts and let it ping against his waist.

Charlie changed the subject. ‘I like these sneakers, Patrick. I bet you can run really fast in these.’

‘Zoom!’ Patrick said, throwing a hand into the air and stepping towards Charlie.

Charlie helped him put on the shoes. Focusing on Patrick’s needs made her detach from Juno’s dead body eight feet away. But when she looked up she felt it: a little boy’s dead mommy and a person she’d once considered her best friend.

‘OK, soldier,’ Charlie said, stifling a sob as she stuffed Cardboard the pig and the tatty blanket into her bag. ‘Let’s march outta here.’

65 BUBBLEGUM

Vern left hospital two days after the zombie attack. He’d been told to take it easy, but as soon as he arrived home he checked on his beloved dairy cows, then crossed the driveway to check on Charlie and Harry.

Patrick sat swinging his legs off a chair as Vern helped Harry replace a broken hinge on one of the kitchen cabinets. The four-year-old looked less babyish with his hair cut, nails clipped and smart new shorts and shirt. He was confused by what had happened, sometimes mentioning that his mom had died, but at other times asking when she was coming back.

‘Mikey can never come back, right?’ Patrick asked anxiously, for the third time in an hour.

‘Never ever, ever, ever,’ Harry said, smiling as he screwed a new hinge on the door.

‘Good,’ Patrick said, nodding.

Harry whispered to Vern, who insisted on helping by holding the door steady. ‘Charlie almost cried when she took his shirt off. Whip and burn marks all over his back and buttocks.’

‘What are you whispering?’ Patrick asked. Then when he didn’t get an answer: ‘Where are Charlie and Ed?’

‘Ed has to do schoolwork,’ Harry said. ‘Charlie is working down in the shelter.’

‘Can we play catch outside again tonight?’

‘Maybe,’ Harry said. ‘I have to start making dinner when we’ve fixed this cupboard.’