A/N: Casey Jones and V.R.M. are chock full of awesomeness. AFTER reading this chapter, you ought to go check out their stories :P Links to them and other cool people are on my profile. Also full of awesomeness is Sweet Lemon Effect, for author-favoriting me. She's full of sweet lemony awesomeness. :P That's the best kind.

No zombie-people, but there is a zombie-not-gonna-tell-you. I refuse to ruin the surprise. It's not a great one, but at least you find out how Ashley dies. Oh, and there's some cussing. :D

Um, Emma says and thinks some pretty mean things in this chapter. Of course it doesn't reflect my thoughts. Emma's a good person overall, but she's a little snobby sometimes. Don't hate her for it. Well, you can hate her a little.

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Then maybe Ash would still be alive.

I stopped writing and reread that last sentence. My throat tightened and tears blurred my vision as I recalled all of the good times Ash and I had experienced together.

There was a horrible kind of pain as my throat tightened further. I could barely breathe, let alone speak. Not that there was anyone to speak to, anyway.

I managed to put a lid on my emotions by telling myself that, while Ash’s pain and suffering was over, my own had yet to happen. I really didn’t think that I would be able to survive much longer by myself.

But before I worried about that, I needed to finish recording my events. I had a feeling that paper and pencils would be hard to come by in these new times.

I picked up the pencil and thought for a moment, then wrote a single sentence.

Damn, but I had loved her like a sister.

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“This is where I live,” MoleMan repeated.

I surveyed his house in disgust. House wasn’t really the word for it – broken down trailer might have been a better choice of words.

The trailer was a yellow-white-grayish sort of color, and the skirting had been removed. The ancient steps were warped and there wasn’t even a railing to hold onto. The windows were so dirty that I couldn’t even see the blinds. Probably they didn’t have any.

I glanced around the unkempt yard. It looked like it hadn’t been mowed in months. There was an equally run-down storage shed about thirty feet from the ‘house’. Awh, it matched the trailer. How lovely. Not.

“So … this is where you live,” I said gleefully. There was no way I was letting him get away without remarking on the sorry state of his home.

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “I know it’s, well, not a lot, but …. ” His voice trailed off. His head hung with shame and his face flushed red.

I considered him for a moment. I had been about to make a few comments, but even though the place he lived in was horrid – it was probably crowded with rats and cockroaches – I wasn’t a cruel person. I decided to keep quiet. No need to be a bitch.

“Well, go get your dad and whoever,” I said sharply. “We don’t have all day here. In case you didn’t notice, I’m worried about my family.” There. Perfect. Mean, but not more than he deserved.

He pushed the van’s door open and hopped out. “Be right back!” he called over his shoulder.

I settled back into my seat.

“Wow,” Ash said. “I think … were you nice to him?”

I rolled my eyes at her. “No! Well … maybe. I mean, wouldn’t you be embarrassed if you lived here?”

She didn’t say anything, just stared at me. “You know, Emma, some people just don’t have a lot of money. It’s not their fault.”

Why was she defending him? Did she have a crush on him or something?

“It is their fault!” I retorted angrily. “Anyone can go to college and get a good job!”

“Not always!” she flung back at me. “Maybe they don’t have enough money to go to college! Or maybe they have to raise a family instead!”

For just a moment, I was at a loss for words. Then I switched tracks.

“Well, his dad probably didn’t go to college because he’s a lazy alcoholic or something. Or maybe he thinks that place is, like, normal. Maybe they don’t care. Yeah, that’s it. If they cared, then they wouldn’t have let this place get so crappy lookin’,” I declared. “They deserve to live in that mess.”

Leslie was shocked. “Emma! How can you say such a thing?”

“Well, it’s true! If they don’t want to fix this place up, then they’re just lazy-ass bums.”

If there’s one thing I hate, then it’s lazy people. I don’t mean, like, but-I-don’t-WANT-to-do-the-laundry-Mom. I mean like those people who drink all day and eat frozen TV dinners and never clean up and … oh, I could go on and on. I mean, just go to college! It’s challenging, but it’s not impossible! Jeez.

Ash turned away from me. “Em … ” she sighed.

“What?!” I snarled angrily. If she wanted to get into it, I wouldn’t back down. I wasn’t wrong on this subject.

She opened her mouth to say something, but fortunately (or maybe unfortunately – I was all ready for a screaming match) she was interrupted.

By screaming. From the house.

Oh, man, I so didn’t want to have to deal with this. Especially not with him.

“Let’s just go,” I suggested. “He’s a big boy, he can handle it by himself.”

Mother and daughter shot me identical dirty looks. “Okay, or not,” I mumbled.

Leslie opened the door and commanded, “You girls stay here! Don’t move.”

“Fine by me.”

Her mother was halfway across the yard when the door was thrown open. It swung around in an arc and then hit the side of the trailer. Hard. I jumped at the sound, badly frightened.

MoleMan jumped out of the doorway. He didn’t bother with the steps. As he landed, he screamed at the top of his lungs, “RUN!!”

Right behind him was … oh dear sweet Jesus oh my God OH MY GOD WHAT WAS THAT? WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!

The thing jumped off the steps and stopped for a moment. It was black and dripping with blood. It’s yellow eyes rolled madly around in its sockets. Saliva drooled in large, steamy rivers onto the ground.

And then it barked. Ferociously.

Next to me, Ashley was shrieking so loud that my ears hurt. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! Emily! It’s a fucking dog, Emily!”

I struggled to catch my breath. That was a dog? No, it couldn’t be! What was wrong with it?

“MOM!” Ashley screamed. “LOOK OUT!”

Leslie had skidded to a stop when the door had opened. Now she stood there, staring in horror at the … dog-thing. If that’s what it was.

At the sound of her daughter’s voice, however, she snapped back into reality. She turned and ran back towards the van. The dog-thing charged after her. It was so fast. She hadn’t gone ten steps before it jumped on her and began tearing viciously into her back. A blue shirt gave way to peach flesh, which gave way to red meat. Leslie howled in pure agony.

Ashley wailed louder than ever, and flung open the door. She ran for her mother.

Horrified, I started to open the door, but then thought better of it. “No, Ashley! Come back!”

But Ash was not to be deterred. She flew over to the dog-thing and kicked it as hard as she possibly could. Which was indeed hard. Ashley Peterson was a soccer player.

The dog-thing was knocked onto into its back, and I thought, Oh thank God, it’s dead.

Then it got back up to its feet, barked again, and attacked my best friend.

It ripped savagely into her tender, teenage throat. She was dead before she even realized that her mother was beyond saving, too.

I screamed and cried hysterically. This couldn’t be happening! Not to Ashley! Not to Leslie! This was a dream, oh yes, a horrible nightmare, but it was okay because soon I’d wake up, I’d wake up and then call Ashley and tell her all about it, and she’d say “You’ve got a strange mind, Emma” and we’d laugh and then we’d make plans to go to the movies and eventually this awful dream would fade away, I just had to wait until it ended, it just had to end … please end …