moving faster than the dead people outside, and he’s able to actually make progress as he slowly puts them behind him one at a time. New ones keep appearing, though, and the end is still nowhere in sight.

“Come on,” he mutters to himself, clutching the wheel and focusing hard with his tired eyes. “They can’t keep going forever …”

But it seems that way.

Another ten minutes pass, then another ten.

William must have driven at least three miles down the road now, passing several hundred cars. And yet the forest of zombies in front of him seems no smaller than when he began driving.

Then—suddenly—he catches a glimpse of a clear view ahead, before it’s once again swallowed up by zombies. But it was there! The horde begins thinning out. William breathes and utilizes all his will power to force himself not to speed up. He’s very close now, and making a mistake would be detrimental.

Another glimpse of the road ahead.

Another two minutes.

Another few dozen zombies plowed aside.

And then he’s out.

William lets out a cry of relief as the last zombies are pushed out of his way and the headlights can finally show him the open road.

He hits the gas and gets the car into second gear, then third. He leans over and shoves out the guy still hanging in the window.

“We made it, buddy!” he laughs, looking in the mirror to see the massive group of zombies getting smaller. “We’re out! You hear me? We’re fucking out!”

EIGHT

Only a few minutes have passed when Iver hears Leif call to them.

He glances at Agnete, who’s sitting by Adam’s crib, singing in a low voice to keep the toddler from waking up. Then he goes to the door and listens.

“Hello? Iver? Agnete? Can you guys hear me?”

“We can,” Iver calls back. “How are you holding up, Leif?”

“Not too hot, I’ll be honest. But I got to thinking, maybe I can help you guys.”

“How?”

“I could go downstairs and fetch you some supplies. Food, maybe—if those cowards didn’t steal it all.”

Iver frowns. “That would be suicide, Leif. Don’t open the door.”

“Oh, it’s okay. They won’t hurt me. They aren’t even scratching at my door any longer.”

Iver shakes his head. “That makes no sense. Why would they—”

“Because I’m already infected,” Leif says. “Don’t you know? I’ve seen it happen more than once. As soon as you get yourself bitten, they’re not interested in you anymore.”

Iver hesitates.

“I think it’s true,” Agnete says, and he turns to look at her. “They said it on the radio.”

“Huh,” Iver says, turning back to the door. “Okay, well … if you’re sure, Leif?”

“I am. And I wouldn’t mind doing something to help you guys—you know, as one last good deed.”

Iver can’t help but feel moved. “You already helped me, Leif.”

“Yeah, I know, but without anything to eat in there, you won’t make it for long anyway.”

“That’s true. But how would we get the food? We can’t open the door?”

“I thought of that,” Leif says. “I’ll bring something from downstairs, something to bash them out of the way. We only need a couple seconds, I’m sure I can make that happen.”

“Okay, well … fine. You just call for me, and I’ll be ready by the door, okay?”

“Okay. I’m going now.”

Iver glances back at Agnete again.

“He’s very brave,” she whispers.

Iver nods, then listens by the door. Over the moans and groans and scratching from the zombies, he can hear Leif grunt. “Get out of the way, will ya? Move! Good lord, there are so many of them!”

Iver hears Leif push his way through the zombies, and the sounds get weaker as he reaches the stairs and makes his way down them. He can imagine the big guy plowing through the mass of zombies.

Then he can’t hear him any longer.

Iver waits for five minutes. Then five minutes more. He begins to worry when another five minutes have passed by.

“You think he’ll make it?” Agnete asks.

“I’m starting to doubt it,” Iver admits, yawning.

Then, suddenly, Leif’s voice: “Iver? You there?”

“I’m here! You made it!”

“I did, but …” Leif sounds very weak. “It was difficult … I … I feel exhausted … I’m burning up out here … there are too many of them, Iver … they’ve flooded the house completely … every goddamn inch of it … I’ll never be able to get them away from the door long enough for us to get the bag through …”

“Oh,” Iver says, biting his lip, trying to think of another way. “Give me just a second, Leif …” He looks around the room for something they can use. His eyes fall on the air duct high up on the wall. He looks at Agnete. “What’s on the other side? Is it the bathroom?”

Agnete nods.

Iver turns back to the door. “Leif? Listen, is the door to the bathroom closed?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Can you get the bag into the bathroom? There’s an air duct you can push it through.”

“Hold on …” A few seconds of pushing and grunting from the other side. Then Leif shouts: “Goddamnit, you get away!” A door slams.

“Leif? What happened?”

Leif’s voice comes again: “I messed up, Iver … I got the door open, but I dropped the bag … I had to close the door before they could squeeze in there …”

“That’s okay, Leif,” Iver says, looking at the duct. “I think I can get through to the bathroom from here—I’ll get the bag.”

“You will?” Leif says, sounding relieved. “Well, that’s great …”

“Thank you, Leif. Thank you so much!”

“Don’t mention it,” Leif says, sounding dreamy now. “I think I’ll … I think I’ll go back to my room now … lie down for a while …”

“Sure, you do that,” Iver says.

Then there’s a heavy thump from the hallway.

“Leif? You okay?”

No answer.

Iver looks over at Agnete. She’s looking back at him knowingly. They both heard it. Leif collapsing. The big guy used his last strength to get them something to eat. Now Iver just needs to get to it.

He goes to the air duct and looks up

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