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sputtered out. She popped her antibiotic in her mouth before leaning down and taking a long drink straight from the faucet. Manners were irrelevant during an apocalypse.

Alejandro stirred on the couch. Veronica muted the TV. His breathing, irregular and strained. Veronica sat next to him. The black veins had spread further up his arms. She pulled up his pants legs, and they were there too. She grasped his hands.

“Oh, Mi Vida. What can I get you?” His eyes opened. The whites were bloodshot and his pupils contracted.

“Water. Just a little water.”

Veronica put the bottle to his lips, but every attempt to swallow brought on a coughing fit. After a few tries, he pushed the bottle away. A faint barking sounded outside.

“Is that Timber?”

“I don’t know. But don’t worry about that right now.”

“You need to leave. Take him with you.”

“We can’t. We have to wait until you feel better.”

“I didn’t say we, Mi Amada. I said you. I’m dying. We both know that now.”

“No. You can get through this.”

“No one gets through this. Go. Find a place in the mountains, the Blue Line. Go there.”

“We are going to go there together. After you feel better. We can stand right on the Blue Line and be in Georgia and Tennessee at once. Just like you’ve been begging me to do for the last two years.” Alejandro sighed, and Veronica held his face between her hands. “We are out of food. I’m going to go gather some supplies from houses of the neighbors that left. I figure that’s safer than trying to go to a store.” He nodded. Veronica kissed his forehead.

“I’ll be back soon, Mi Vida.”

“Si, Mi Amada. See you soon.” Alejandro closed his eyes and was asleep before Veronica slipped out the door.

Veronica went to the little blue house with the stupid fake goose outside that was always dressed to match the season. The names of the older couple that lived there eluded her, but she hadn’t seen them in days. She peeked in all the windows and made sure it was empty before she went to the back door. She turned the knob, and the door opened. Small town life. People actually kept their doors unlocked. Immediately an orange tabby cat bounded up to her, meowing loudly, and rubbed against her leg. She kicked it away. The cat scurried out of sight.

Veronica wandered through the house, digging in drawers and searching all closets. She found a case of water in the garage and a tent. The kitchen was mostly bare, but a few canned goods close to their expiration were in the pantry and a bag of dry cat food. She realized she had forgotten to bring a bag, but thankfully found a rugged-looking backpack in the coat closet. She filled it with the cans and shifted it onto her back. When she bent over to pick up the case of water, she saw the empty cat bowls in a corner of the kitchen.

She picked up the case and walked out onto the back porch. The cat meowed behind her. Veronica sighed and set down her heavy load of supplies. She walked back inside and scooped up the cat bowls. She filled them both with water. The cat lapped it up eagerly. She took a few gigantic bowls from the cabinets and filled them with water too, then placed them on the counter. She opened the pantry and tore open the cat food. The cat ran over and ate the kibble that had spilled out. She made sure the hole in the bag was open wide enough so the cat could get to all the food. Veronica moved back toward the porch and noticed a small pet flap at the bottom backdoor. She opened it before stepping back outside. The cat should be able to come and go as he pleased. The house belonged to him now. She picked up her supplies and hurried back toward her house.

When she crossed the yard to the next house, the dog whined and jumped up along the fence. He was huge and black with a white patch on his chest. His head was bigger than hers, in fact, she was sure her head would fit between his jaws. She set the water on her porch and walked to the dog’s former owner’s house. She would not try the back door when that massive dog was there.

“Shut up, dog!” What was its name? She knew Alejandro had told her. Tyson? No. Timber! “Shut up, Timber!”

She tried the front door, but the handle wouldn’t budge. She checked all the windows, minus the ones in the backyard, but everything was locked up tight. A scream cut through the air. Veronica’s skin became a sea of goosebumps. The dog started barking. Another scream. It was close. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She edged along the house, staying low to the ground. She peered around the corner and looked down the road. Standing in a yard about ten houses down was a woman. A man stood in front of her, his shoulders heaving up and down and he shook his head like an angry animal.

“Dustin, please. It’s me. Amy, your wife. Don’t do this!” the woman screamed as she backed away. A child ran from the house with a baseball bat in hand. Veronica’s heart trembled uncontrollably against her chest.

“Jacob, get back in the house and lock the door! Now!” Amy commanded.

“Daddy!” Jacob ran to Dustin. “Stop! Don’t hurt Mommy!” He swung the bat, hitting the man squarely in the gut. He let out a roar and grabbed the child by the arm, jerking him from the ground before throwing him against the house. The little body left a bloody smear and a large dent on the white siding. Jacob fell to the ground, unmoving.

Tears rushed to Veronica’s eyes, and she clasped a hand over her mouth to stifle her scream. Amy rushed forward, but Dustin caught her by the neck as

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