The Lightkeepers

2

The air had become bitter and unforgiving, a sure sign that winter was fast approaching and the

next storm might be snow or an icy mixture.

A fourth drum was full of saltwater, which we mainly used for cleaning. We even built a

system that boiled and caught the condensation from the saltwater to make it potable. The system

was reminiscent of a moonshine distillery. We were lucky to find so many materials in the area,

thanks to the construction projects that had been taking place in the park. Clean water was plentiful.

During dry periods, though, we had to haul a barrel to the sea and fill it up every few days.

We would cart it back on a dolly that we found, though its wheels were of minimal help in the

sand. A fire was still smoking, signaling that someone had been cooking recently.

My family and I were well off, all things considering. Maybe other survivors had it better.

Or maybe we ’ re all that ’ s left.

With nothing of danger in sight, I walked around the catwalk to scan over the scarred New

York skyline, picking out the remnants of the Empire State Building and following along the

outline of buildings until my eyes landed on the Freedom Tower. A somber smile ghosted my

chapped lips. The country had survived that. And this — what we ’ re surviving now? The reality we

lived in now was much worse.

The dead lived.

I don ’ t know how, or why, but somehow, we were fighting zombies in every sense of the

word. I know exactly how that sounds. At first, we believed what the news had reported: there ’ s

nothing sinister, it was only a repeat of the 2012 Miami “ zombie ” , or a man who had taken copious

amounts of some drug or another and attacked another man, they ’ d say in their polished T.V.

speech.

Except it wasn ’ t that. Not this time.

The attacks were few and far between at first. And then they became more frequent and

couldn ’ t be linked to drugs, tampered with or otherwise. Next, they came in droves. What had been

independent attacks morphed into gang attacks. By then, it was too late. Cities had burned. There

were violent riots, people had fought in the streets and looted. People lost their lives to the living,

some to the walking dead.

The metal groaning behind me sent shivers down my spine as I tensed, nocking an arrow

out of habit. My sister ducked and walked through the open doorway, joining me on the narrow

catwalk.