About This Book
Billy and Beth: March 11th Billy was up on the roof. Beth, Jamie, Winston and Scotty were standing at the edge of the building as he was, looking out over the city. Things were crazy, and they seemed to be getting worse as the days rolled by. The police precinct was still burning. It had started sometime during the night two days before, and since there was no one to put the fire out, it had been raging for hours now. A few minutes ago, the roof of the building next door to the precinct burst into flames. Maybe the fire had started inside, or the extreme heat from the burning police precinct had caused it to burst into flame, spontaneous combustion, but it was a strange thing to watch. It appeared as though it had simply burst into flames all on its own. The animated conversation about whether it had been spontaneous combustion or a fire source from inside the other building that had simply burned through, had kept up for a few moments, and then they had all lapsed back into silence. Beth spoke now. “Where would we go?†she asked. “I think southeast,†Scotty threw in. “Why not north or northeast,†Jamie asked. “Makes no difference, I suppose, but this winter it might. That's why I think southeast.†Billy said. Beth nodded. “What's the radio say?†“It's bad everywhere. Different people, different days, all talking about the dead. Some talk about the living too, gangs, but the big deal is the dead. Every major city... Boston, Hartford, Manhattan, San Fran, Providence, Scranton, Miami... there are more. Every day you hear more places, and that's bad. But then there are the ones that you don't hear from anymore, and that's even worse,†Billy said.
