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Ava straightened in her seat. “Wait.”

She leaned forward as I eased off the accelerator, her breath catching.

“That’s Sadie’s car. The flower sticker on the back window. It’s hers.”

Slowing to a crawl as we passed through the crash site, I scanned the area. The car was empty, and the airbags were deflated. No visible blood at the scene. If Sadie had been in the car at some point, it looked like she’d walked away from the wreck.

A short distance away, a black Audi sat wedged nose-first against the curb, the driver not so lucky. The woman had slumped against the steering wheel, head tilted toward us, her skin grey and lips cracked. Dead, but not turned.

“Ultimus,” I said.

Ava rubbed her forehead and let out a frustrated groan. “I’m trying to add up the timelines and not panic. Maybe that’s who Sadie caught it from?”

“Could be. Looks like the woman’s been there a while.”

She pressed her lips together, staring and thinking. We wouldn’t learn anything more out here, though.

“Let’s just get there,” she said.

I picked up speed and left the crash site behind us.

Infected lingered near buildings, and several bodies lay on the road outside the tennis club, heads damaged like the ones we’d taken down.

“It’s just up there. You can see it above the houses.” Ava pointed at a red brick building that looked to be a converted warehouse, looming over the lower rooflines. “There’s a driveway that leads to the car park.”

I switched off the navigation and turned down the side street she’d indicated. When the building came fully into view, someone had parked a car on the footpath, right up against the double entrance doors.

I gave Ava a sidelong glance. “Know anything about that?”

“No, but maybe they were just strengthening security?”

Someone had dragged a couple of dead bodies off the road and dumped them near the gutter, leaving blood splatters on the bitumen. Several infected milled around a couple of houses down, a woman in a blood-stained flannel robe turning at the sound of our engine.

I eased into the driveway that led around to the rear, eyeing a ground-floor window on the way past.

My grip tightened on the wheel. “Promise me something,” I said as we reached the car park.

Ava stared straight ahead, waiting.

“We’ve come all this way together. Don’t run off without me.”

She unfastened her seatbelt. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

I pulled into the car park and swung into the first empty spot along the back of the building, near the rear door. Trees and shrubs surrounded the concrete lot, and most of the parking spaces aside from our row sat empty. I wondered how many of the vehicles’ owners had died or disappeared, and how many were still in the building.

When I turned off the ignition, Ava finally looked my way. Her cheeks were flushed, the rest of her skin too pale.

“I’m okay,” she said. “I’m not going to lose it.”

“No judgement if you do.” I released my seatbelt and jumped out into the chill of the afternoon, striding around to her side as she stepped down. “One more thing before we go in,” I said, as a familiar sickly sweet smell drifted toward us.

“Too many instructions, Luke. I’m good. I told—”

Before she could finish the sentence, I clasped her shoulders and pulled her close.

After the slightest hesitation, she gave in and hugged my waist, her cheek resting against my heart, her hair brushing the underside of my chin. A tremor wracked her body, then a long sigh followed, and she finally relaxed against me. I kept her close, stroking the back of her head, listening to her breaths settle.

She let the hug go on for longer than I expected her to, then squeezed me and eased back. “Okay, maybe I needed that.”