Damon dove inside the door and slammed it behind him.  He slumped down against the door and tried to slow his breathing.  How many blocks had he sprinted across?  Four?  Five?  As he tried to control his breathing, his breath same in quick gasps that morphed into sobs before turning into laughter.  Is this what going insane felt like?

​

"Care to let me in on the joke?" Sasha asked from the door frame.

​

Damon looked up and saw her once-pretty face showing the signs of extreme fatigue.  Though his face was likely just as haggard.  "No joke.  Just lucky."  Damon reached into the pockets of his filthy cargo pants and pulled out several cans of tuna.

​

"You found food?!" Sasha asked, incredulously.  She dropped to her knees and scrambled to Damon's side.

​

"Packed in water, not oil," Damon said with some pride.

​

Sasha grabbed the machete from her pack and stabbed the cans and hungrily drank the water from within, Damon following suit.  Despite the fishy taste in the water, they both drank every drop before she carved the lid open with the blade.  Damon studied her face as she cut away the metal.  "Sasha... how's Tyler?"

​

She shook her head and didn't speak at first.  "Not good.  I tried to give him food and water, but he just vomits it all back up.  He's getting cold... Damon... I think we need to let him go."

​

"Sash!  He's my friend... your husband!  We can't give up on him.  There has to be something we can do..."

​

"If there was something we could do, don't you think someone would have already done it?  We need to go.  Where did you find this food?"

​

"A grocery store across town.  Still mostly stocked... it was risky, but worth it."

​

Sasha pried the first can open and the two of them ravenously picked the flaked fish from the container before she began chopping at the second can.  "Did you see anything near this grocery store we could use as a shelter?  Maybe we could move there... have better access to food... and just leave Tyler behind."

​

"I can't believe you!"

​

"B-Believe it..." Damon and Sasha turned to see Tyler leaning heavily on the door frame to the bedroom.  "She's right.  But you need to leave now."

​

"It's getting dark!  Why now?"

​

"I can feel it running through my veins.  It feels like shards of ice moving through my body.  A pinprick...a pinprick on my big toe is what got me.  Something so minor...."

​

"Why don't you lie down, Ty?  You're delirious," Damon said, getting to his feet to help his friend.

​

"It's too late.  You need to go now.  Hurry.  They can hear me..."

​

"This room is sound-proofed.  No one can hear you but us."

​

"That's what makes them such good hunters, you know?  They hear your dying thoughts as you join them..."

​

"Wait, what?" Sasha asked, her hand tightening its grip on the machete.

​

"For instance, they now know you forgot to b...buh...buuuh..."

​

"Tyler!  Don't give in!"  Damon said shaking his friend as the last shade of colour drained from his face.  Tyler's face went slack and his eyes turned to Damon, not in sympathy but hunger.  Damon wrestled in Tyler's grip, trying to push his former friend off.

​

Sasha yelled, "Damon, down!" before swinging the machete and decaptitating the thing that used to be her husband.  She began sobbing when Damon hugged her.

​

"Thanks for that... but we need to go.  Tyler was right... we need to..."  Damon trailed off as he thought about Tyler's dying words.  "I forgot to barricade the door..."

​

The door fell in as the weight of the dead burst the door from its hinges.  The dead surged into the room as Sasha raised the machete in a last ditch defense.