Johnny hated the zoo. Before the Sick, after the Sick—it didn't matter. The empty cages and overgrown paths felt haunted. He stood watch near a fence, rifle heavy on his shoulder. He hoped he wouldn't need it. Hurting people had never come naturally to him.

The figure across the enclosure watched him carefully.

“You, uh... okay over there?” he asked. “I can probably get water. If the pumps cooperate.”

Awkward silence followed.

“I’m supposed to keep an eye on you,” he admitted. “Guess that makes me your shadow today.” He managed a nervous smile. “You don’t seem like trouble. Most people don’t, till they have to be.”

Glancing around the ruined preserve, he sighed.

“Anyway... we're both stuck here. Might as well make it less miserable.”