I point to her and then I hold my hand out. Rhys takes the crowbar out of her face, a sick, awful sound that becomes a part of me as soon as I hear it. We cross the room slowly and a familiar scent floods my head with images, puts a bitter taste in my mouth, makes me want to tear my skin off …

I find my father on the floor, wedged between his desk and the wall. His eyes are cloudy, his skin is gray, his veins vivid, so visible. He’s on his back and his abdomen is wide open, but it’s been so feasted on, it’s hardly there anymore. What’s left of his insides are dried out, have cemented him to the carpet. He flails his arms uselessly but he can’t get up.

Lily did this.

I raise the crowbar over my head. I’ll finish this. Everything. But his teeth—they catch my eye. They’re perfectly white, clean. They’ve never sunk themselves into anything. He’s weak and his expression is sick with want. He moans at us. I lower the crowbar.

“Just leave him,” I whisper.

We go back upstairs. Rhys packs clothes and searches the house for supplies. I take the car keys and shove them in my pocket and my fingers brush over a crinkled piece of paper. I take it out and unfold it. My note to Lily. I stare at it. It’s been through as much as I have and the letters have smeared together, have mixed with dirt and blood.

Only a few words are readable now.

Rhys steps into the room. “Are you ready?” I stare at the letter. Can’t stop staring at the letter. He moves in front of me and brings his hand to my face. “Sloane, are you ready?”

I open my mouth but nothing comes out. He tells me he should drive. I give him the keys. The car starts on the first try and the gas tank is half full. He lets the car idle while I open the garage door and then I run back, jump into the passenger’s side. He eases out of the driveway and then we’re moving and we go by empty, broken houses, abandoned cars, and then eventually, the YOU ARE NOW LEAVING CORTEGE sign. We pass more dead along the way and they reach for us before they know we’re gone.

“Tell me what happens next,” Rhys says after miles of silence because he knows. He knows the brief moment where everything was certain—her, me, him—is over now and I don’t know what’s left anymore. I turn my gaze away from him, back to the window. I catch sight of something.

I tell him to stop and he stops.