Free Fallen Grace (The Grace Series) by M. Lauryl Lewis Page B

as he fell asleep. He looked so tired and defeated. His beard stubble had grown considerably, making him look aged and weary. I left the bedroom, shutting the door behind me, and ventured back to the kitchen in search of anything edible.
    It was a small room. There was no dishwasher, just an old freestanding oven & stove, a refrigerator, and a few cabinets. I began searching the drawers and cupboards, avoiding the refrigerator and freezer. Whoever had lived here seemed to be fond of marshmallows and peanut butter. I found several jars of Skippy crunchy and three sacks of generic brand marshmallows; one mini and two large. In the second drawer I found a box of unopened raisins. I decided to gather what I found onto the small round kitchen table and packed what I could into my backpack. Once Gus rose we’d find a way to pack up the rest. My stomach was growling, so I opened the peanut butter and used two fingers to scoop out a big wad, which I shoved into my mouth. The resulting glue-effect in my mouth was heavenly. I recapped the jar and moved on to the last cabinet. I was delighted to find cans of SPAM. It had never been a favorite of mine, but the protein and fat would be so welcomed by all of us. There were eleven cans in all. Hidden behind them were two large cans of baked beans and a plastic bottle full of white vinegar.
    I studied my huge find sitting out on the table. I was pleased with it overall. It was a lot of useful things that could keep our group going for that much longer. I took one more finger-scoop of peanut butter before heading back to check on Gus. Still not sensing any of the dead near, I walked back into the bedroom and closed the door behind me. Somehow I felt safer with it shut. My side was feeling much better since I had eaten something and I knew I was already healing.
    Gus was snoring softly, so I walked over to the empty side of the bed and sat. I kicked my shoes off and flopped back onto the mattress, settling in alongside Gus. The light of day was fading quickly. I looked at him as he slept. He had changed since we had first met. He looked hardened. I’m sure the same could be said about the rest of us. I inched closer and pulled at the edge of the blanket that covered him until I too was underneath, needing to feel his warmth. I could tell the night was bound to be cold from the drafts already creeping into the tiny house. Gus turned onto his side, facing me as he slept. His breath smelled familiar as I nuzzled against him. I refrained from placing my ear against his chest, knowing the silence would be too painful. Instead I focused on the rhythm of his breathing as I fell asleep.
    ***
    I woke cold. The bed was empty beside me and the room in full dark. I sat up, listening carefully at first with my ears. I was met, at first, with an eerie silence.
    “Gus?” I called out, quietly. I was met with more silence. A faint scratching began against the side of the house, soon followed by the moan of the dead; it was guttural and feral sounding.
    Gus? I reached out with my mind as I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and reached down, searching in the dark for my shoes. Gus?
    “I’m here,” he whispered from the doorway. “Keep quiet, ok?”
    “There’s one outside.”
    “I know. It’s been scratching around the perimeter of the house for about half an hour.”
    “I can’t hear it in my mind.”
    “It’s not human.”
    “What do you mean?” I asked.
    “I caught a glimpse of it through the kitchen window. Looks like it was a dog back in the day. I’m gonna go out and put it down before it attracts anything bigger.”
    “Gus, no. It’s too dangerous.”
    “I’ll be ok, darlin’. I’m headed to the roof. I’ll kill it from up there.”
    “How?” I asked a bit skeptically.
    He sat beside me on the bed. It was too dark to see more than his basic outline. He placed a hand on my knee. His grip felt tired.
    “I used a knife from the kitchen and some duct tape and made a