His pose was casual, but I could see he was tense. It seemed as if he had some knowledge that he wanted to let go of, but didn’t know where to start. For my part, I figured I would just wait, seeing where the silence took me. It was an old trick I had used to good effect once upon a time as an administrator. Those with guilty consciences tended to need to release their guilt and the longer I waited without saying something, the harder it was for them to keep it in.

Charlie sat down at the table, pulled his Glock from its holster, and placed it on the table. The move wasn’t lost on Simon, and he leaned forward, placing both hands on the table while leaving his firearm holstered. I chose to stand away from the table, leaning on a low wall that separated the main room from a bar area. My casual pose put my hand close to my SIG and on Simon’s right. If he tried to get into action, it would be hard for him to bring his gun to bear before I shot him. Ordinarily, I wasn’t so cautious, but the man had reacted a couple of times a little out of the ordinary, so I wasn’t taking chances.

“Where do I begin?” Simon asked suddenly.

“Your survival story, I will assume, is pretty much standard these days. You figured out what was going wrong, got the hell out of dodge, fought a few zombies, and ended up someplace you didn’t like. Along the way, you have heard my name, and you have an interesting story to tell about a certain ‘Major’,” I said, starting the ball.

Simon blinked, then he fully smiled. “You don’t waste time, do you?”

“Not really. Why don’t you pick up where you left off on the way here. You said you were taking to the hills when the Upheaval started,” I supplied.