The whole time he talked, Zeke kept eye contact with the creature, and not Rector. He took a step back, and then another one. He held out his hands in an inviting gesture, urging the creature to stand up and follow him. “Come on, Sasquatch. Let me help you get home. Let me get you out of here.”

Not wholly convinced, but game to see where this was headed, the sasquatch scooted unsteadily to his feet. He folded his legs under himself and shoved, bracing his hands on the wall, on the floor, on the window frame and the half-rusted bars that still filled it. The cuff on his other hand fell slack, its chain already dislodged from the manacle and the wall, both.

“He could’ve walked out of here anytime,” Rector marveled.

“Maybe. I don’t know. The other lock was in better shape, and he’s pretty weak right now.” Zeke backed away farther, to the door’s edge, to the spot where Rector was stuck as if there were nails holding his feet down to the hard-packed earth floor.

The sasquatch followed him, wobbling and scratching at the seal around his neck.

“Oh … boy…”

“Hush up, Rector. He’s doing fine.”

Out through the front doorway where there wasn’t any door left to close, and into the deserted streets where there wasn’t any fire anymore, the inexplicable followed Zeke. Stalked him, even. His legs weren’t very stable and his head looked ridiculous inside that globe, but he didn’t pry the mask off, and he didn’t tear Zeke’s head off. Rector didn’t have anything to do except look out for rotters.

Rector brought up the rear, watching the sasquatch strive to keep his head up. Sometimes he tipped and toppled, then jerked up straight again. “The mask is heavy,” Rector observed. “It must be hurting his neck.”

“Must be,” Zeke replied, glancing backwards and around, keeping track of all the rocks and debris in his path. He avoided the clutter where he could, and climbed over it where he couldn’t. All the while, he kept his arms up and out, showing he meant no harm, and asking the sasquatch to follow.

Please come with me. Please let me help.

Up the hill a few more blocks, not very far. There weren’t any people there yet, but the previous night’s battle was increasingly evident. Zeke shuddered when the way was blocked by a pair of mutilated corpses. (Mutilated by what? Neither of the boys looked too closely.) Walls were burned and charred pieces of clothing billowed in the Blight as it moved on its usual currents. Pieces of hair and flannel with burned-off edges rolled into the gutters in clotted clumps.

Rector thanked God he couldn’t smell a damn thing.