I wasn’t quite sure what to do with the bodies. Whatever virus or bacteria or whatever caused animation of the dead was also obviously contagious and dangerous. I wanted to wash my hands. The bodies weren’t moving around anymore but that didn’t mean that the contagion wasn’t still there. The radio had suggested burning the corpses. I was afraid that the first would attract the wrong sort of attention or burn down the whole damn forest. Actually, the biggest thing in my mind was some awful late-night movie where burning zombie corpses caused the dead to rise across the graveyards that the ashes fell on. The fear of this playing out seemed illogical but nothing about this situation was terribly plausible.

I didn’t want to leave them laying around, and I didn’t want to touch them. I felt obligated to burn them, because who knew what would happen if they were just sitting around, a pile of disease festering in this little clearing. Otherwise such a nice place.