"Yes, that's right." Red said, growing concerned that the man could tell things about him. Red tried to read the guy, but he couldn't. Like the boy he slid away like a trout in a stream. Again Red was able to get a sense that the zombie he was talking to was much younger than he was which should have made this an uneven relationship in his favor.

"Good analogy. Fish that is. I can use that."

Surprise shook Red to the core, the man was reading him! That usually only happened when a more powerful zombie used less powerful ones as his eyes and ears. A paternal zombie could share some vision and sound with his minions, but that was always by choice.

"I don't suppose we could talk this out?" Red offered.

"That depends on what you want. You seem to be evading my only question."

Again Red stopped talking. The pitchfork fell out of him as the weight of the handle dragged the tines out of his back. Red absently kicked the tool to the side of the barn and answered, "It's not that I don't want to answer, I just don't really know."

"Well what brings you here? Why aren't you heading east like all the others?"

Red's quiet laughter greeted the man's questions, "Why would I do that? You already know I am a leader in this mess, not a follower and what is going down out east is not to my taste. I was slowing it down, trying to give the people there time to prepare their defenses against the coming wave."

"Why'd you stop? You could still be there now, doing whatever you were doing."

"I ran into a force more powerful than myself. I lost my friends. They worked with me, helping as best they could. They weren't as strong as me, but we had a plan. Another zombie showed up while I was taking care of…a friend. By the time I got back one of my companions was dead, the other was dominated, and I was outmatched."

"That so? Sorry if I don't seem so gullible, but not many of us help out the living."