“Get Ethan down the road. Now.” He pushes me forward as he turns toward the alley. “Wait for me at the corner.”

What does he see? I pull Ethan away. Luckily he’s got his eyes on some collapsed movie theater down the block. I take him to check it out the busted marquee. Just before I slip past the alley, I glance at the dog. A bright piece of fabric lies on the ground beneath the dog. A t-shirt? Then I see the arm, pale, bloated with crooked fingers. A body. That’s what the dog’s been eating. I clutch my hand to my mouth and fight the urge to vomit.

Ethan looks up at me as I pull him down the street. “What is it?” His hand squeezes the blood out of mine.

“Nothing.” Oh God, my head screams. We’re going to die!

He watches the alley where Clay disappeared with wide eyes.

The dog skitters out of the alley. Clay follows. When he meets us, his face is the color of uncooked dough. He nods at me and keeps walking. I want to ask him about the body. How did it die? Will we end up like it? Yet, Ethan’s here and my imagination’s supplying enough details on its own. I look up the street at more shops and dark alleys. What do I have to do to get out of here?

“Let’s go,” Clay says. “We need to get some place safe.”

Safe? Nowhere here is safe. We speed-walk down the street. I don’t scan the shops. I’m too afraid I’ll spot another body.

We find a long driveway at the end of the block. A two-story brick building looms large at the end of it. In the dark I can barely make out the words etched into the concrete sign covered with bird droppings: Magdalena Christian Academy. Three graying wood crosses lean on the weed-filled front lawn. At the entrance stands the greening sculpture of a woman, one arm outstretched, palm up. The other arm lies in a few shattered pieces at her feet. Her face, though, turned to the sky as if seeking forgiveness, is the first welcoming thing I’ve seen.

“Let’s sleep in there,” I say, pointing to the building.

Clay arches his eyebrows up at me.

I shrug. “Looks less scary than the rest of this God-forsaken place.”

Clay nods. “Sure. We need to get inside anyway. Can’t see a damn thing.”

We stride up the busted blacktop to the front doors. A thick, rusted chain slinks through the handles on the big wooden doors. I yank on them and scowl. Nothing in this town comes easy. I scan either side of the brick building. The glass windows are long gone, but they’re high off the ground with nothing to climb but flat, slippery brick.