Baskerville went wide and ran parallel but a little ahead, sniffing out our trail, following the scent of the last person—or persons—to have visited the clearing where all those people were left to die. I followed, checking the landscape for trips and traps. Finding none even as we got closer to Happy Valley. That troubled me, because any community of people surviving in a world of the walking dead should have set traps. Tin cans filled with stones strung on wires would be enough; a simple sound alarm that the dead would be too stupid to avoid. There were also spots that were natural observation points—sturdy trees where a deer-stand could be erected, knolls where a fortified sentry post could command a view of the surrounding woods. Like that. I saw none of it.

What I did see as I reached the edge of the densest part of the woods, was a walled town. A big, sprawling, gated community with a ten-foot-high wall, probably cinderblock, covered in peach-colored stucco. There was razor wire along the top and I could see sunlight sparkle on a thousand tiny points, which I took for broken glass set into the cement. When I pulled my binoculars to take a closer look I was amused to see that the glass was all in decorative colors. Clearly a design feature of the original build rather than something added later. Besides, broken glass wouldn’t deter the dead. The razor wire wouldn’t do much, either.

I knelt in shadows between lush trees and scanned everything I could see. There were heavy gates fifty yards to my left. And when I zoomed in on them I could see a very expensive security box. Digital and thumbprint scanner, I thought. Inoperative now, but suggestive of high-income residents. The place was remote, though a highway was moderately close, and—according to the map I’d found—so was a heliport, a small private airfield, and a regional rail line. Over the top of the wall I could see a lot of trees, though some of them looked prematurely withered, and the upper floors of two and three-story McMansions. The architecture looked modern. Maybe two or three years before the outbreak. Not older. The wall, too. This place had been built as a retreat for the very wealthy. That much was obvious.

Had it protected them? Time would tell.