Dark Grace by M. Lauryl Lewis

at least, in how they carried themselves and reacted to Nate, as well as my mind still be void of any zombie signatures. “Weapons down, hands up.”
    “Fuck, Sadie, nice job,” said a hushed yet harsh male voice.
    “I said hands up!” shouted Nathan.
    I was standing to Nate’s side now, only two steps behind, my pistol raised and my face wet from the steadily falling drizzle. My heart was pounding.
    “Please don’t shoot,” mumbled the girl.
    “How many are you?” demanded Nathan. I could also hear someone coming out of the shelter. I didn’t look back to see who it was.
    “Just us two. We’re just looking for shelter and food.”
    “Shut up, Sadie,” said the male.
    “Fuck you, Ron.”
    “Set your weapons down,” said Gus from behind me. “Step to your right and kneel on the ground.”
    The strangers stood where they were, not moving.
    “Do it now,” ordered Nathan.
    “Walk, Sadie,” said her buddy Ron.
    “Susan, can you get the fire going so we can see?” asked Gus. I hadn’t realized Susan had joined us.
    “Don’t fucking push me, Ron.” The pair of newcomers sounded like they despised each other.
    “Sure, Gus,” answered Susan.
    “Also wake Em and Boggs?”
    “ Yeah.”
    “Down on your knees,” ordered Nate. “Now.”
    “We’re moving,” said the man. “Hold on.”
    “You ought not tell the ones holding a gun on you to hold on,” said Gus.
    I could hear Susan rousing the others. Jane and Abbey were awake and wanting to know what was happening. Susan told them to stay in bed, no matter what, and to be very quiet. Boggs and Emilie were soon by our sides and Susan was quickly lighting dry kindle to help us see. As the fire finally roared to life, we could see Ron and Sadie kneeling on the wet dirt about two yards from the campfire ring. They were young, maybe in their twenties or early thirties, and dirty. Their clothing was raggedy, their faces and hair unkempt. Most notable were bandages on both of their arms. The girl, Sadie, also had a large gash on her left cheek. Her eyes were a dull brown, and she looked scared. Her friend Ron was small and skinny. Two of him could have fit into her pants. They were an odd pair, to put it mildly. I could smell leftover grease from the roast eagle burning and the scent of seawater in the air.
    “How’d you get here?” asked Nathan.
    “We have a small boat,” answered Sadie.
    “Don’t fucking tell them shit, you cunt!”
    “Fuck off, Ron.” The girl looked from Ron to Nathan and began to explain. “We saw the smoke from your fire a few days ago and decided to try to find you. We just need shelter, and food.”
    I was watching Ron, focused on him. He seemed twitchy and anxious. He was obviously irritated with Sadie.
    “What happened to your arms and cheek?” I asked the girl.
    “It’s none of your fucking business, bitch,” Ron snapped at me.
    “Hold your tone there, boy,” I heard Gus say from beside me. “You don’t talk to a woman like that. And if you do it again I’ll rearrange your goddamn face.”
    I looked back over at Sadie, and noticed she had inched back toward the fire where her gun still sat on the ground. “Don’t move any farther,” I warned her. I had my pistol aimed at her face. These two were up to no good. Of that I was sure.
    “Fuck you,” said the girl. She almost looked feral.
    “Both of you shut the fuck up,” said Boggs with great irritation. “You best answer any questions asked of you. Now tell her what the fuck happened to your cheek.”
    I could hear Jane whimpering from inside the shelter. Emilie was closest to the shelter, so I asked her if she’d go into the shelter with the girls. I kept my eyes and my aim on Sadie. She looked vaguely familiar, and I focused on placing her. “Susan, can you please grab their weapons?” I asked.
    Sadie was glaring at me. In my peripheral vision I watched Susan pick up the two weapons that were only feet from Sadie. Ron had his hands on the back of his