"I saw Tristen and the other kids going out on their ATVs a little while ago. Maybe one of them... did... something."

"That's some assessment," Jane said with an extra dose of biting sarcasm.

"Well, I don't know. Maybe we're under attack. Maybe Jed and his army of the undead have come back to seek revenge."

"Oh shit," Emily said, still sitting on the floor, pulling on her boots. "The transmitters."

"The what...?"

"The fucking transmitters. My dad and Roy put location beacon thingies on all the cars so if anyone got lost, we could find 'em."

"Don't they need satellites for that?" asked Frank.

"No, it's short range—like ham radio or some shit."

"There was one on the Suburban?" Jane asked.

"There was one on the Suburban," Emily confirmed.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Frank grabbed the shaggy hair over his ears and pulled.

"Well, I fucking forgot, okay! Besides, I really didn't think anyone would be alive to follow us. It didn't cross my mind that someone could be dead and follow us." She looked at the floor shaking her head. "It's fucking Roy, I know it."

"Roy?" Jane looked out the front window with sudden concern.

"Yeah, he's a fucking psycho," Emily said.

"Roy?" Frank asked Jane. "I thought you said he was dead. For sure dead."

"I thought he was. I mean, I think he is." She crossed her arms defensively. "I don't know how this shit works!"

"Yes, you do! You know exactly how it works. Destroy the head! Did you destroy his head?"

"Not exactly."

"What does that mean?"

She looked up, boring her eyes into Frank. "It means I was a little busy trying to rescue you, asshole!"

"Rescue? You hit the trailer by accident. You nearly killed me!"

"Fuckin' cool it," Emily snapped. "Jesus fucking Christ, you guys are worse than my parents." She clapped a few times in their faces. "Come on! It's time to focus up."

"Okay," Frank said closing his eyes tightly. "First thing we need to do is get some guns together."

Jane was scowling at Frank but had the presence of mind to put the bickering on hold for the time being. "Right. Let's get armed just in case it actually is Roy."

They bolted for the door to the dorms, staying low as they crossed the lobby and shut it quietly behind them.

"Where do they keep the guns?" Jane asked, scanning the disheveled room.

But Emily had already scampered to the kid's various bunks, coming back with an armful of hunting rifles and handguns. It wasn't the most powerful arsenal—but it would have to do.

"What'd we do with the AR-15 and the AK thingy, did we bring both in from the car?" Frank asked.

"Only the one Jane used to kill the doctors," Emily said, hefting its bulk from under Tristen's bed. The one with the grenade launcher was still in the back of the Suburban. "I've got three clips."

"Ammo, how much ammo do we have for the others," Jane asked, referring to the collection Emily had assembled. Again, Emily was off, gathering boxes and handfuls of bullets like collecting shells at the beach.

"Were all of the kids with Tristen?" Jane asked.

"I think so," Frank replied breathlessly.

Frank was at the window, low to the ground, sneaking a peak, but all he could see was the fire and black smoke rising from the Suburban. He tried to focus his eyes through the bending light from the heat and the remainder of his quickly receding hangover. There on the edge of the woods he saw a flash—like a mirror reflected in the sun.

"I see something," he said. "It looks like someone's trying to signal us."

"Tristen," Emily said hopefully moving quickly over to the window then holding the machine gun up to use the scope. She turned a knob on the cylinder and squinted. "Roy," her voice dropped an octave.

"Shit, really? What's he doing?" Jane's question was cut off as Emily opened fire through the still unbroken window. It shattered in a miraculous spray, raining down saber-sized shards on Frank and the surrounding area.

"For Fuck's sake, Emily!" he shouted, removing his hands from his head and looking at lines of fresh blood bead up and begin to drip.

She wasn't listening though. She was checking the scope again.

"Shit," she said.

"You're not going to hit him from here. He's gotta be like a football field's length away."

"Then I have to get closer," Emily squeezed the words out through clenched teeth and stood up, throwing back her shoulders, ready to attack.

"Come on Emily," Frank grabbed her and forced her back down to a crouch. Her eyes were empty. "You gotta think. You can't go out there like that—they'll tear you apart."

More of the dorm windows started shattering. It took Frank a second to realize it was return fire.

All three of them dove for the floor.

Frank was shielding Emily with his body—laying on top of her frail frame—faces just an inch apart. She grinned maliciously and peck-kissed him on the nose which made him notice the position they were in. He sprang away from her as imagined visions of the night before painted sordid pictures in his mind.

"Thanks, Romeo," she said to him.

"Don't mention it."

"Are you fucking serious right now?" Jane railed from her prone position a few feet away, her eyes broad and disbelieving. "Do you need some fucking privacy or something?"

A cracking, metallic voice sounded over the hissing and popping of the burning Suburban. It was Roy, speaking through a megaphone.

"Listen up assholes! Let' make this as simple as possible. No more shooting. Just send out Jean and this..." There was a muffled argument for a second, then, "... I know goddamnit! I mean Jane. Just send Jane out and we can end this."

"Why does he want you so badly?" Frank asked.

"I don't know. I mean... I killed him and all. Probably that," Jane shrugged.

"Okay... yeah. That makes sense."

"He's always been one to harbor a grudge," Emily said knowingly. "I hope you bit his dick off."

"No!" Jane said, recoiling at herself for having tried to seduce him back at the Fill and Feed. "I just... tore out his throat."

"Tore out? What's that mean? Out?"

"I don't know, I tore a huge chunk of his neck out with my teeth and... ate it," Jane said a little self-consciously. "It was a very surreal experience. He was the first person I've killed." She looked disgusted and shuddered. "It was pretty traumatic for me. And him... I would imagine."

"Destroy the head, Jane," Frank said closing his eyes tight.

"I know... but in the moment, my priority was to get the fuck out of that cage. Once I saw him dead in the dirt, I ran," Jane explained.

"I still think you should have bit his dick off," Emily said.

"Well shit. This time, we have to make sure he's actually dead. Dead, dead."