Transformation: Zombie Crusade VI by J.W. Vohs, Sandra Vohs

presents, a few bottles of wine, and a three-tiered white cake with a plastic bride and groom on top. “Who did all this, and when did they have the time . . .?”
    “I’m sure that Zach and Maddy had a hand in it, but most of these letters seem to be from the settlers here,” Gracie answered, her eyes welling up with tears. “Oh, Luke, look at this one.” She held out a child’s drawing with a little purple stick-figure labeled “me” next to some triangles on the bottom of the page, and above that “Mommy” and “Daddy” were floating up in “Hevn.” Right underneath heaven, a smiley-face with sunglasses, and extra-long arms where ears would normally be, reached out protectively over the land below.
    Luke sat down at the small table and rested his head in his hands. Gracie slid in beside him and put her head on his shoulder. They sat quietly until Gracie whispered, “Sometimes the loss is too much, and I feel like the world will never recover from all the suffering and hurt. I try not to think about my parents, my brother—I can go for days without thinking about them.” She sat up and turned Luke’s head to face her. “Do you think my mom could still be alive? Would Israel have been a good place to be when the pandemic broke?”
    Luke didn’t know how to answer. “I wish I knew. I want to say yes, for the security there, and the Israeli spirit, but I don’t think anywhere was a good place when the infection started to spread.”
    Gracie nodded and wiped her eyes. “I know this sounds crazy, but do you think we could go there someday? I mean, do you think it would even be possible?”
    Something tickled in the back of Luke’s brain, and he furrowed his brow.
    Gracie squinted at him. “What are you thinking?”
    “I’m thinking that some time, some day, I will take my wife to Israel.” He smiled. “And I’m thinking about starting those steaks Zach mentioned while you try out that hot shower.”
     
     
    A noise in the distance cut through the pounding in the hunter’s head, and he instinctively turned to sniff the crisp evening air. Hunger pushed aside the confusing thoughts and images that had dominated his mind for an unknown period of time—hours? Days? He’d been paralyzed by memories and growing self-awareness ever since he’d encountered the strange and powerful pack leader near the river, but now all he wanted to think about was Food.
    The lone hunter followed the sound and soon caught the scent of a campfire. He almost howled at the discovery, but stopped himself when he considered the possibility of sharing whatever meal lay ahead. Though massive, he moved quickly and quietly toward his target. The hunter couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten, and even the smoke rising on the breeze carried the scent of something that made his mouth water.
    Humans. The word popped into his brain. Humans . They had existed in his mind as something basic—Food. The primary, most satisfying of all foods. Now that his mind had started labeling things, he could begin to truly consider the distinctions in the world around him. Humans. Best food.
    The hunter clearly heard the bleating sounds of several humans before he saw them—three large, noisy males around a fire. It occurred to the hunter that humans were usually cawing and moaning at one another—a fortunate habit for prey. Humans could be such easy targets, but they also could be dangerous. Even though almost every fiber of his being was screaming to charge and devour the Food, the hunter froze and considered his options. He decided to wait and watch for a minute to determine his best course of action.
     
     
    Gracie emerged from the shower in a white terrycloth robe, with her wet hair slicked back and a big smile on her face. “That was the most luxurious thing I have ever experienced in all of my life,” she declared. “I’ll finish making dinner while you get cleaned up. There’s even a laundry bag for our dirty