[Friday mornings aren’t the greatest time to go anywhere when everything is now a murder scene and no one’s has any sleep the night before — at least very few people in his cabin, Lenka would attest. It’s starting to be a routine for a zombie horde of them to wander across camp in the morning, hoping the early daze would blunt the impact of any discoveries that day. There’s a part of him that wants to curl up in the cabin and pull the pillow over his head, every time.

Of course he doesn’t.

Instead he’ll be over by the lake, keeping half an eye out for any of the cats and watching fellow campers the rest of the time. Slowly counting the number of people up and moving. Not for any real purpose, but it’s just slightly more soothing.]