Characters are still when I'm gone.

I left Emma and Michael on the Penn Farm for 16hrs yesterday. Normally not a big deal, but it was only recently that the bodies of the dead, strewn across the streets and yardsof this small english town, started moving. Dead, and moving. First we tried to gather a large group of folks in a near community center, but clashing personalities divided the group. Myself and several others split and left for the city. Hoping for supplies and food we stopped at the farm outside the limits. Been living there for a few days. The walking corpses became more aggressive. Carl, who had been with us since the beginning, returned to the community center late wednesday riding a motorcycle he found on our lst trip to the city. We barricaded the farmstead with whatever waste we could find around the out-building. It was last night they came. Staggering and stumbling toward the make-shift fence, rapping a the gate with their bleeding raw boney hands. And that's when I had to go to work...

I left Michael and Emma standing there in the hallway of that aged home which may soon become their final resting place. Wearily looking out the picture window at a field of the undead advancing slowly and stubbornly across the unkempt yard, ever more aware of their short future, they wept.

Tonight when after work I'll finish the book and follow Emma and Michael to the finish. Because if I don't they will be forever in limbo. Paused in time. Waiting for the story to continue. I will help them.