They stop at a red light and a semi-truck passes in front of them. “On the contrary, I find your irrational fear of the undead quite humorous.”

“It’s hardly irrational. The zombie apocalypse could happen,” Lynell says, crossing her arms.

“And if it does, I promise to shoot you before you have to witness it,” Daniel replies. Lynell grins, remembering the night several years ago when she turned off the zombie movie they were watching ten minutes in before making Daniel promise to shoot her in the head in the event of a zombie apocalypse.

“Thank you,” she says.

The light turns green. “Turn up here. Looks like this street is full of fast-food restaurants.”

Daniel nods and takes the next right down Marshall Street. “What do you think it’s like growing up here?” Daniel asks.

Watching an old apartment complex pass by, Lynell shrugs. “Quiet. Anna’s graduating class probably won’t have more than fifty kids.”

“I bet they barely have any Registrations here,” Daniel says.

“Or it’s one of those towns where the majority of Registrations are gang or drug related.”

Daniel shakes his head. “No, it’s too peaceful.”

“That’s because it’s the middle of the night.” Lynell points down another street and Daniel turns. With each road they pass that isn’t Byrd Street, Lynell’s stomach grows more leaden.

Thankfully, only ten more minutes pass before Daniel sits forward, leaning over the wheel. “What does that say? Looks like Byrd to me.”

Lynell follows his gaze, squinting at the little green sign. “Yes, it is!”

The car feels noticeably lighter as Daniel turns left on the street.

“These are nice houses,” Daniel says, studying the two-story homes. Most have an attached garage and each one has a large brick mailbox at the end of their driveway with black numbers big enough to read without slowing down.

484. 486. 488.

“Do you think they have more kids?” Lynell asks when they pass a house with a swing set out front.

“I kind of hope they don’t,” Daniel says. Lynell doesn’t reply but quietly agrees. She likes the idea of Anna being an only child and getting her parents’ undivided attention. Plus, convincing the Raines to leave will be more difficult if they have more children.

They reach an intersection and Daniel rolls through the stop sign. The houses on this side of the intersection are slightly smaller and the numbers are in the 500’s.

Lynell’s stomach tightens and each breath feels like it’s being dragged from her body and ripped from her mouth. As soon as 522 comes into view, she turns to Daniel with wide eyes. He returns her stare, slows down the car, and parks in front, behind a deep blue SUV. His lips are parted, and his face is filled with color.

She turns in her seat so she can grab Daniel’s hand. “We’re here to keep her safe,” she says. “That’s all.”

He nods as if readying himself before they both climb out of the car. They head up the sidewalk, hand in hand, staring down the front door.