Monte's voice broke the quiet. "We should get dressed."
Sara nodded faintly. "I'm hungry."
She crossed the room to a dresser, the morning light catching the soft lines of her face.
Monte watched her pull a loose orange dress over her head, tying an orange bow at her neck to cover the faint bruise.
He sighed, half in pain, half in admiration.
Pulling on the gray shirt and sweatpants Miranda had left for him, he rolled the cuffs and cinched the drawstring.
They stood before the mirror, two survivors in borrowed clothes.
Monte smirked. "You look like a princess. I look like a hobo."
Sara giggled. "You look comfy."
He grinned, stealing a quick kiss.
"Let's go," she said, smiling.
Monte took her hand, and they headed downstairs together.
The smell of eggs and toast filled the air.
Tabitha looked up from the table and smiled warmly. "Sara! You look gorgeous."
Sara blushed. Monte added, "Stunning, as always."
Sara pinched his arm; he only grinned wider.
Meghan, perched at the table, said, "You look like a princess! And Monte's your frog."
Ethan burst out laughing, pounding the table.
Monte stared stone-faced for a long beat, then cracked a grin. "I look like a hobo."
The room erupted in laughter. Even Jim smiled. For the first time since last night, the atmosphere of the house felt light.
They settled into breakfast. Sara nibbled at her toast while Monte finished his plate, leaning back with a sigh of contentment.
Then, there was a knock at the door.
Monte stood and opened it to find Boyd and Kenny, both looking grim.
Boyd didn't waste time. "What the hell happened last night?"
Monte exhaled. "That's a long ass story. One even I can't fully explain." He nodded toward Kristi, still asleep on the couch. "She's the only one who can."
Kenny's eyes went wide. He rushed to Kristi's side. "Kristi?"
Boyd stepped closer. "Tell me what happened, Monte."
Monte rubbed his neck. "I saw something running down the road."
Boyd frowned. "Those things don't run."
"I know," Monte said. "That's why I went to check it out. Took one of the rifles from the truck and a bottle of alcohol. Never saw the runner, but the creatures..."
He hesitated. "They were waiting for me. Kristi was just bait."
Boyd's face hardened. "Jesus Christ."
Monte nodded. "Yeah. Rifle's toast, but she's alive."
Boyd clapped his shoulder. "Forget the rifle. You saved her. That's what matters."
Monte smirked. "I'd do it for anyone. Even Jimbo."
Boyd barked a laugh. "Knew you'd make a good deputy."
Monte smiled faintly... until Boyd turned to check on Kristi.
Monte grabbed his arm. His tone dropped. "Boyd… the infirmary."
Boyd's expression froze. Then his eyes widened. "No. No, no, no!"
He bolted for the door. Monte was right behind him.
....
They arrived at the infirmary minutes later. The stench hit them first, a mix of copper and decay.
Boyd stepped into Bing Qian's room first and stopped cold.
The blood was everywhere. Splattered on the walls and in pools on the floor.
Gina and Bing Qian lay sprawled across the floor, their chests hollowed out, faces twisted in terror.
Boyd's voice cracked. "Damn it."
Monte stepped forward silently, kneeling beside the bodies. He closed Bing Qian's eyes, whispering, "I'm sorry, old man. Rest easy." Then he did the same for Gina.
Boyd stood behind him, fists clenched. "We can't let Kenny see this. It'll break him."
Monte nodded. "I'll clean them up and wrap them before he gets here."
Boyd swallowed hard. "Thank you."
Monte grabbed a pair of blankets from the closet and got to work, jaw tight.
Boyd turned toward the door, his voice low. "He's going to find out. But not like this."
Monte didn't look up. "Go. I'll handle it."
Boyd hesitated for a second longer, then left the room... sprinting back toward Miranda's house.
Because when Kenny stopped worrying about Kristi and he realized what had happened… he'd need someone there to keep him from falling apart.
...
Boyd burst through the door, his breath ragged, the weight of what he'd seen still dragging at his shoulders.
Everyone looked up. Jim, Tabitha, Sara, and Ethan frozen mid-conversation.
Kenny was kneeling beside Kristi, checking her pulse. He looked up at Boyd, a small, relieved smile on his face.
"She's stable," Kenny said. "Whatever Monte did, it worked. I was gonna take her to the infirmary now that it's daylight..."
Boyd's expression stopped him cold. The color drained from Kenny's face.
"What is it?" he asked quietly.
Boyd hesitated. He didn't know how to start. Finally, he stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Kenny… you can't go to the infirmary."
Kenny frowned. "Why? Did something happen?"
Boyd's jaw tightened. "We found… your dad. And Gina."
Kenny blinked at him, uncomprehending. "Found them? What do you mean... found them?"
Boyd swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, son. They didn't make it through the night."
The words hung heavy in the air.
Kenny shook his head. "No. No, that's not... he was fine last night. He was talking. You're wrong."
Boyd stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I wish I was."
Kenny's breathing hitched. His knees buckled, but Boyd caught him, holding him upright.
For a long moment, neither spoke. Only the sound of Kenny's quiet, disbelieving sobs filled the room.
Finally, Kenny whispered, "Where is he?"
Boyd's voice was low. "Monte's cleaning up. I didn't want you to see it… but I know you need to."
Kenny nodded, wiping his eyes roughly. "Take me there."
Boyd hesitated, then simply said, "Okay."
They left together, the others watching in silence as the door closed behind them.
...
The building was still and hollow now. The air carried the scent of bleach and blood. It was a desperate mix of cleaning and loss.
Monte worked quietly, his sleeves rolled up, face set in grim focus.
He'd finished wrapping Gina and Bing Qian in blankets, moving them gently into the common room.
He wasn't used to this kind of silence. It felt heavier than gunfire, heavier than the streets he'd survived.
When he was done, he sat down on a nearby chair, running a hand over his face. For a moment, he just breathed... slow and steady.
Then the door creaked open.
Monte looked up to see Kenny, standing there with Boyd behind him. Kenny's eyes were red-rimmed, his hands trembling.
"I need… to see him." His voice cracked.
Monte didn't hesitate. "Okay."
He walked over to Bing Qian's covered body, unwrapping the blanket just enough to reveal the old man's face.
Kenny's breath hitched as he stepped closer. His father looked calm. Almost like he was just sleeping, dreaming of one of their chess games.
Kenny whispered, "He looks… peaceful."
Monte rested a hand on his back. "Yeah," he said softly. "He went quick."
Kenny's shoulders shook, a sound caught between a sob and a sigh.
Monte stood there with him, silent, a steady presence amid the grief.
Boyd turned away, jaw tight, his hand gripping the doorframe to keep himself steady.
Kenny knelt beside his father and bowed his head. Monte stayed where he was, giving him that small space of dignity.
After a long while, Kenny wiped his face and whispered, "Thank you… for being here."
Monte's voice was low, steady. "No problem, Ken."
Outside, the sun broke through the clouds. A faint, fleeting light falling across the old man's still face.
...
The entire town gathered on the cemetery grounds.
Two fresh graves lay side by side, dark earth turned and raw against the faded grass.
The sky was overcast, heavy with the kind of stillness that pressed against the chest.
Father Khatri stood at the head of the crowd, the collar of his shirt crisp despite the wind.
His voice carried low and solemn over the field. "We lay to rest two of our own. Bing Qian and Gina. May their spirits find peace, beyond the reach of this place."
A murmur of amen followed, quiet and uneven.
Kenny stood near the graves, his arm wrapped around his mother's shoulders.
His eyes glistened, but no tears fell. His jaw was tight, his grief disciplined, barely restrained.
When Khatri stepped back, Monte walked forward.
He'd cleaned up, his gray shirt and sweatpants soiled in the cleanup.
He now wore a black button-up tucked into dark slacks, sleeves rolled to his elbows. His usual swagger was gone; his voice was calm, respectful.
"I didn't know Bing Qian long," he began, glancing toward Kenny. "Played chess with him once, maybe twice. But I know this... he was a good man. He raised one of the pillars of this town, and his presence will be missed."
Monte looked down at the two graves, the wind tugging lightly at his shirt.
"I just hope he's somewhere quiet now. Somewhere peaceful… where he can finally rest. Maybe play a game of chess or two."
He stepped back, nodding once to Kenny.
Kenny met his eyes and gave a single, firm nod in return. His gratitude and heartbreak blending into something wordless but Monte understood.
Father Khatri moved forward again, hands clasped.
"Thank you, Deputy Monte. Let us pray."
Heads bowed. The priest's voice was soft, his prayer for the dead echoing faintly across the open field.
Monte stood beside Sara, her fingers sliding gently into his hand. He gave a small squeeze, a quiet, 'I'm here.'
Before turning back to the graves as the dirt began to fall.
Kenny was the last to toss a handful into the ground. His hand lingered over the mound for a long moment before he turned away
Steadying his mother as she stared at the broken earth in front of her.
He could feel the gentle shake of her body, making it even harder to hold his tears back.
The crowd slowly dispersed.
Some stayed behind to whisper to the graves, others just needed a moment alone with their thoughts.
Sara slipped away to Auntie Chen, who stood near the back with her eyes red and puffy.
The two women hugged quietly, sharing the kind of comfort that didn't need words.
Monte watched them for a moment, then turned toward Boyd, who stood off to the side, arms crossed, face unreadable.
Monte walked up beside him. "You know what happened, don't you?"
Boyd didn't answer right away. His eyes stayed fixed on the graves. "I've got a theory," he said finally.
Monte tilted his head. "Let me guess, someone let them in."
Boyd's jaw tightened. "The windows were all shut, locks were unbroken. That means whoever it was… opened it themselves."
Monte crossed his arms. "Why the hell would anyone do that?"
Boyd looked at him, his gaze sharp. "That's what I intend to find out."
Monte's expression hardened. "Count me in."
Boyd nodded slowly, the grim lines of his face deepening. "I figured you would say that."
They stood there in silence for a moment, watching the sun dip lower, the wind whispering through the cemetery grass.
Then Boyd said quietly, "This town keeps taking from us. One way or another."
Monte glanced down at the graves. "Then maybe it's time we start taking something back."
Boyd's eyes met his and for the first time, there was a spark of understanding between them.
Not friendship, just yet. But a deep respect.
The kind born in places where survival is the only prayer left.
...
The smell of bleach and copper still lingered in the air.
The bloodstains were faint but visible, a ghostly memory of the night before.
Monte and Boyd stepped inside quietly, the floor creaking beneath their boots. The air was thick with silence.
Boyd ran a hand down his face. "Every time I walk in here, it feels heavier."
Monte crouched near the front door, examining the frame. "You were right. Lock's intact. Door wasn't forced."
Boyd nodded grimly. "Means someone opened it. Someone human."
Monte stood, dusting off his hands. "We'll know more when Kristi wakes. She saw what happened, maybe even who."
Boyd sighed. "Let's hope she remembers."
They walked deeper into the infirmary, checking rooms one by one.
The sheets were stained, instruments overturned. The place was a mess of fear frozen in time.
Boyd glanced over his shoulder. "You patched Kristi up pretty good."
Monte shrugged, moving to a blood-spattered counter. "Yeah, well…"
He lifted his shirt slightly, revealing a web of old scars. Knife wounds, bullet grazes, and one long, ugly gash down his ribs. "I've had plenty of practice."
Boyd studied him, his expression grim but respectful. "That the kind of life you had before this?"
Monte let his shirt drop. "That was another world. Another me."
Boyd grunted softly. "Seems like parts of him still come in handy."
Monte smirked. "Guess I can't complain."
Boyd's gaze swept over the room once more. "We'll clean it up later. For now, we just wait."
Monte nodded. "Yeah. Waiting's the hardest part."
They stood there in silence for a few seconds.
The hum of the lights and the whisper of wind through cracked windows the only sounds left in the room.
...
The small house was filled with the aroma of ginger and broth, soft steam curling through the kitchen.
Sara moved quietly, her sleeves rolled up as she stirred the soup on the stove.
Behind her, Auntie Chen sat at the small dining table, motionless, eyes fixed on an old framed photo of Bing Qian.
The picture showed him younger. Smiling as he rested a hand on her shoulder.
The warmth of the image made the silence in the room even heavier.
Sara set two bowls on the table, one for Chen, one for herself. She sat down gently. "You should eat something."
Chen didn't move at first. Then, with a trembling hand, she picked up the spoon. "He loved this soup," she murmured.
Sara smiled softly. "I know. That's why I made it."
Chen's eyes welled with tears. "He was a good man. Always thinking of others. Always…" Her voice broke, and she lowered her spoon.
Sara reached out, resting her hand over Chen's. "You don't have to say anything. I just want you to know that, you're not alone."
Chen nodded, pressing her lips together to keep from crying again.
The door creaked open. Kenny stepped in, his face still pale, his eyes tired but calm.
Sara stood. "Hey."
He looked at her for a moment, then at his mother figure across the table. "Thank you," he said quietly.
Sara's voice softened. "You guys are family."
Kenny gave a small smile, the kind that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Will you stay with her? I'm gonna go check on Kristi."
Sara nodded. "Of course."
Kenny stepped closer to Auntie Chen, gently kissing her head. "I'll be back soon, okay?"
She nodded faintly, her eyes never leaving Bing Qian's photo.
Kenny turned and left, the door closing softly behind him.
Sara sat back down beside Chen, taking her hand again.
They sat there in silence. The two women holding each other up against the quiet weight of loss.