I was so sorry to leave Mr. Caine with the people from the River Nation, but he had been right-there was no other way for us to leave without more people being killed. We couldn't just hand Will over to strangers, and we couldn't expect them to trust us without some sacrifice on our part. We drove in silence back to the hole in the fence. In the time we had been gone, Rachel and the other workers had put in many new posts, anchoring them in newly dug holes with concrete; the fencing had been unrolled and secured to them. Now they were just expecting us to deliver supplies, so they could finish and go home. They must've been surprised and curious to see another vehicle following us-the first new people anyone in our community had seen in years.

    We got out, and the workers gathered around us and the two newcomers. Milton had also arrived while we had been gone. He was invaluable for keeping the undead away from the people as they worked on the fence, of course, but now I thought he would help resolve this situation with Will, though I was completely at a loss as to how.

    If the people were amazed at the sight of two newcomers who were not from our city, they were shocked and audibly gasped when Dad opened the back of the truck and they saw two zombies sitting there-zombies who didn't try to attack, but who sat meekly watching us. Well, the man zombie was meek; the lady zombie looked much more dangerous-though Will and I were the only ones who knew firsthand how savage she could be. She didn't make any outward signs of aggression now.

    My dad explained everything-who the attackers had been, what the River Nation was, how Will had attacked the wrong people that morning, how there were now smarter zombies among the dead, and how our community was now threatened with war against another group of living humans. Everyone paid rapt attention to the story, with occasional ripples of excitement and whispers through the crowd. Everyone except Fran, who was still keeping watch from atop the truck; I was sure she was ready to shoot the newcomers, either living or dead, if she deemed it necessary, or if my dad gave the command.

    Milton shook his head slowly and sadly. "There is no precedent for this. It has been years since Jack and I assumed any kind of governing or judicial role over our people. And we have never considered the implications of having to deal with a group of people outside our community, whose customs and values might be different than ours. This is serious and confounding. Perhaps if we considered in what ways Will has broken our own laws, and then try to justify them to these new people. First, I suppose we should determine what damage has been done. Colonel, do we know what happened to your citizens whom Will and these two dead people attacked this morning?"

    "The last report I received, three men had been shot. This man from your community shot two of them. Both were wounded quite severely; one of them may not walk again. The one shot by these two creatures was less severely wounded and should recover fully."

    Milton sighed. "Let us be thankful the damage was not worse. Nonetheless, Will, there seems no way to take your actions as protecting the living. There was no self-defense, except perhaps by these dead people, if they were confronted suddenly with a guard who tried to shoot them-after they'd been put in that situation by you, Will. Most alarming is the carelessness with which you pursued and shot at people, without knowing their exact identity or guilt. We can be thankful you did not kill anyone, but if you had done this to members of our community, there would be grave punishment. And we cannot count the lives of others-whom we were lucky enough to finally find today, when we thought ourselves the only living people left-as any less worthy of our concern. I cannot see any other way to interpret this."

    There was a low and reluctant murmur of agreement from the crowd.

    "But I am also very curious about what you thought you were doing by letting the dead out of their holding area. This was a huge risk to yourself, but more importantly, to others, more so in our community than elsewhere, since the holding areas are just outside the fence. What led you to do such a thing?"

    I could see Will was struggling with his own guilt and regret. But on the topic of the zombies, he seemed to pick up, as though this were something he had thought about much more, and something he thought defensible-even if to the rest of us, it seemed the most bizarre part of his behavior. "I didn't mean to put anyone at risk. These two…" he gestured to the zombies, who were standing nearby, under guard. "They were different. You saw for yourself, Milton, how different he is."

    "I did, Will. That's why I explained to him why he needed to be confined and kept away from the living. I'm not in the habit of explaining myself to dead people, but I thought it appropriate in his case."

    "Yes, and I think he appreciated that. But I spoke to him more, and I could tell he knew more, and he needed more from us. I found out his name. It's Truman. I don't think I've ever known the name of one of the dead people we round up. I knew he wasn't dangerous."

    "But he was, Will. He shot a man. And the woman killed a man and… ate him."

    "They did, but both times were to defend someone. The woman saved Zoey. I couldn't have gotten to her in time. And I found Truman after he'd shot the man. He had only wounded him, and the man was defenseless, on the ground, but they didn't do anything more to hurt him. I've never seen people more restrained. Well, except the eating part. But I knew it was wrong to keep them locked up. I know you've done a lot for us, Milton, and you showed us how it's wrong to kill the dead, but sometimes you treat them like dolls or statues-these sacred, fragile things that you need to shut up and look at once in awhile at funerals, like things in a museum, or like they used to do with animals in the zoo. I think they're just people. At least, I know these two are. I'm sorry I hurt those men, but I'm not sorry I let Truman and Blue Eye out."

    Milton nodded slowly. I looked over at the two zombies. They obviously understood what had been said about them, mute as they were. Unlike when I imagined a dead person looking sad or angry, you could tell they were embarrassed to be the center of attention, just like a "real" person would, and they looked remorseful for their part in the unnecessary bloodshed and the problems it now caused us. I could see Will's reckless attack on the River Nation had been the result of impatience, anger, and thoughtlessness, but his relationship with these two people had been very well considered, thoughtful, and careful.

    Milton seemed to agree. "Will, your actions with these two dead people are not culpable, I don't think. But like your actions this morning, they do show a terrible unwillingness to consult or explain yourself to others. So much pain could've been avoided if you had just spoken to someone else. This is all the more sad, since by what you just said, you can explain yourself to others quite eloquently."

    When Milton turned toward me, I suddenly felt very small and cold, even as the blood rushed to my cheeks and burned me with shame. "And you, Zoey-how could you keep this information from others? You were as aloof and secretive as Will. Perhaps if you had told your father, we could have stopped Will before he attacked other people. We cannot let our friendships endanger our community, or they are no real friendships. I trust your father will find some appropriate punishment that will teach you not to keep to yourself so dangerously and with no concern for others."

    I had instinctively pulled closer to Dad when accused, and he squeezed my shoulders. "Yes, Milton, I was thinking about that on the way back here, that someone needs a lesson about trusting and confiding in others." I knew Dad would be fair, but I still shivered to hear of some undefined punishment.

    Milton paused and turned back to Will. "I think under normal circumstances, your fellow community members would decide on some punishment for you, but now we run into the difficulty that the victims of your crimes are members of a different community, with different laws. Colonel, what punishments do you have in your community for a crime like this?"

    "The punishment for most crimes is death. Sometimes we cut off a hand or tongue for lesser crimes. Really minor infractions, like those committed by children, are punished with public beatings." I'd read of such law codes, of course, from the past; even the ones in the Bible weren't that different. But how he could so matter-of-factly describe such barbaric punishments in our day, without any visible embarrassment, shocked me.

    My dad was standing next to me. "Figures," he muttered. "Bunch of savages."

    Milton did a better job of hiding his incredulity, but he still couldn't respond for a few seconds. "And your community… has survived? With such laws?"

    The colonel shrugged. "We had to have harsh laws to survive."

    Milton cleared his throat. "Well, I'm sure you did what you thought best. But if such are your laws, then I don't think we can do anything here today that would satisfy you or your people. We have no such punishments. We never have. The most we have ever considered is banishment, and under the circumstances, with no one having been killed, I don't think we would even impose that. It makes no sense to us. But neither does war with other living people.

    "Perhaps someone explained to you, Colonel, we do not wage war even against the dead. So the options we are discussing here-extreme punishment or outright war-both of these seem to us senseless, barbaric, and cruel. All we can do now is forgive and protect Will, and leave the reaction and retaliation up to you and your people. But I'm sure Jack has made it clear to you that we are quite capable of defending ourselves."

    "I think I made that crystal clear, Milton," my dad growled. It was ugly, this side of him-ugly and inevitable.

    Will had returned to being anxious, moving restlessly from one foot to the other. He finally spoke up. "You can't do that, Milton. You can't protect me and have people fight and die over it. That's really senseless. I guess it's not barbaric, it's kind of the opposite of barbaric, but it's definitely senseless. Individuals have to sacrifice for the community all the time. We're taught that."

    "But the community can't force people to sacrifice themselves," Milton answered. "That's what creatures like ants do. And the community can't be forced to commit violence, just to avoid the threat of more violence. That's blackmail." He turned back to the colonel at this comment. The colonel only shrugged again.

    "I understand," Will said. "But I can leave the community. There is no rule that a person has to stay in our community. We're all free to leave at any time."

    Milton nodded and sighed again. "That is a brave suggestion, Will. As you say, we have no means to stop you. But if your sacrifice wouldn't even accomplish what it was meant to, what would be the point? So I would have to ask the colonel-if Will leaves our community and goes off into the wilderness, would this satisfy you and your people that we meant you no harm or offense, and we had adequately punished the person who had harmed you?"

    The colonel frowned. "I think it would seem absurdly lenient to any of my people, but perhaps, since you people are so different and have grown accustomed to such strange, impractical ways of life, perhaps we could overlook this lack of wisdom, this harmful mildness that you embrace. I would take this report back to my people, that the culprit has been caught and he will be exiled. I would play down the fact that he chooses this willingly, if I were you. But with that punishment, I think we would probably refrain from further bloodshed and try to live with you more peacefully."

    "What about them?" Will asked, pointing at the two zombies, who still patiently and shamefacedly awaited the decision of us, the living, though I wondered if they thought we really had any jurisdiction or right to rule over them. I wondered it myself, when I saw how calm and harmless they looked against the blustering and threats of the colonel-and even, I thought, of my dad. "What are you going to do to them?"

    "I was going to put them back with the others," Milton answered.

    The colonel waved dismissively. "You yourself said that your people treat them like animals in a zoo. When a dog bites someone in our community, we don't beat the dog. That just makes the dog more violent. We demand that the owner keep the dog restrained, and we whip the owner for his carelessness. So as bizarre as your treatment of the zombies is, I have nothing against you keeping dead people locked up. As you said, if they get out, they're more likely to come and attack your city."

    Will stepped over by the two dead people. "I'm glad they're not talking about punishing you two," he said to them. I was just close enough to hear him. "That would be really unfair. You'll be safe back at your place. But I think you'll have to stay there now. I don't think anyone will take you out again. But you have lots of books, and I'll tell Milton where the college is, to get you more. I don't think they'd object to that."

    "Of course not," Milton agreed.

    If Will's voice had sounded sad, the look on the two dead people's face was heartbreaking. If Will's mom and dad had been there, they couldn't have looked any more distraught at the prospect of leaving him. Truman looked at Blue Eye, and she shook her head.

    "I'm sorry, Blue Eye," Will said. "I don't think there's a choice."

    Blue Eye poked her finger at her own chest, then at Truman's chest, and then she pointed at Will's.

    "You want to come with me?" Will asked.

    They both nodded.

    "No, you'd be safer back at your place. Besides, I don't know if they'd let you."

    Milton shrugged. It didn't have the same distasteful air as when the colonel did it. "Will, you'll be beyond our borders," Milton said. "They would be no threat to us. We would be as safe as if they were locked in some enclosure just beyond our fence."

    The colonel again waved dismissively. Everything related to the zombies, and not directly related to punishing Will, seemed of no interest to him. "Kid, shooting at people is one thing. It has to be punished, sure. But I mean, shit, it happens all the time. But wanting to be alone with a couple monsters instead of with people-that's just bat-shit insane. But really-there are billions of those things out there. What the hell difference would two more make? When they eat you and come wandering back towards our city, we'll just shoot them in the head like we've always done. Until then, knock yourself out."

    I could see Will hesitate, but oddly, I didn't think it was because he was concerned for himself or our community-this was the concern both Milton and the colonel had addressed-but because he was concerned for the safety of the two dead people. "Are you two sure?" he asked them.

    They both nodded. And for them, there was no hesitation that I could see.

    "All right, then."

    There was movement in the crowd. I was surprised to see Rachel move to the front. She paused there-embarrassed, blushing-then stepped over towards Will. They stood close, talking, but their voices were too quiet for me to make out what they were saying.