Or maybe this asshole didn't have a single goddamn lick of sense.

The man spun around on his bench, swinging his legs behind him. He stuck out his hand, his lips spreading into a wide, jubilant smile.

"Hi there! Name's Toby. Brother Toby, I guess. It's a great pleasure to see somebody come along this Sunday."

Holly reached up, took the man's hand. She was amazed at how soft the skin of his palm and fingers felt. It didn't seem to match his rough appearance.

"Is it Sunday?" she asked. She really didn't know.

"To the best of my knowledge. It's not like the TV Guide shows up every Monday anymore. I just marked the days off on an old calendar. Once we reached a year, I started marking 'em again. This isn't a leap year, is it? That would've thrown me off."

Holly shook her head, a little dumbfounded by the man's rapid speech.

"That's great! I've been worried about that for months. Don't want to go calling to worship on a Saturday, right? It's not like we're Catholics here."

She shook her head again. Her mouth tried to form words, but only a light clickescaped her lips.

Brother Toby dropped her hand, and it fell back into her lap. She hadn't even realized they were still shaking. Something about Toby confused her, seemed to sap her intelligence and will. Maybe it was his rapid and boisterous method of speech. Maybe it was that smile that seemed to grow wider and wider with each passing moment.

Maybe she had just grown paranoid over the past year. Billy Hudson's assassination attempt would have had that effect on anybody. It was possible that there were still good people in the world. Hell, until a few minutes ago, she hadn't been sure there were people of any kind left.

She took a deep breath and decided to give Toby the benefit of the doubt. At least he was still alive.

"So, sister. What should I call you?"

She blinked, hoping she hadn't been silent so long it was noticeable. Time had been slipping away for her so much over the past few months, and she'd spent the last day or so wondering if she'd ever have a conversation with anyone other than herself again.

"Holly," she said, and she gave him something she hoped looked like a smile.

"Sister Holly! It is a real pleasure."

"Please, Holly is fine. I was never anybody's sister."

Toby shrugged. "We're all brothers and sister to one degree or another. The Lord says so."

"He does?"

"Sure, he does. It's right there in the bible."

Holly wasn't about to argue with him. She was a lot of things, but a bible scholar had never been one of them. If Toby said it was in there she was willing to take his word for it. It sounded biblical, at least.

She decided to change the subject.

"How long have you been here, Toby?"

A shadow crossed his face. "Since shortly after... well, I'm sure you know. I came from near Friendship."

"Really? I'm from Millwood."

"Millwood? That's marvelous! I've been through Millwood a time or two. Nice little place. What brings you my way?"

"Long story. We tried to get out. We didn't make it. I guess that's the short version."

One of Toby's eyebrows arched upward.

"We?"

"There were others. A busload, as a matter of fact. There was a wreck, though, and the dead got everybody else. I managed to escape and hide in the woods. Later on, I started walking."

He nodded. His face was a map of concern.

"I'm so sorry to hear that."

"It's okay." It was a lie, but she didn't feel like being the brunt of his condolences right now. She just didn't have the strength.

"So where were you headed? Were you just wandering, like Moses in the desert, or did you have a destination in mind?"

Moses?she thought. The guy was a little over the top. She'd thought the evangelicals and such stayed farther south. Was she going to hear about a plague of frogs next, or did he plan to jump right to the Second Coming?

"I'm headed toward the Jefferson Proving Ground," she said. "Thought it might be safe there."

He nodded, then shrugged. "Maybe. Then again, maybe not. Jefferson's a ways off, and I'm afraid I just can't tell you one way or the other."

She'd figured as much. The lines of communication had unraveled since the dead had risen. Even Millwood had only received news whenever a fresh crop of refugees arrived, and that hadn't happened in more than four months.

"Am I headed in the right direction at least?" she asked.

"I think so. You'll have to cut east eventually, but that shouldn't be so bad. You'll hit Route 62 if you keep along this road, and that'll take you to 421. It might not be the easiest path, though. I'd recommend you stay away."

"Really?"

"Sure. What place is safer than a house of the Lord?"

Holly fought the urge to roll her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Toby. I'm just not sure I believe that anyplace is safe nowadays."

"Belief is usually the problem."

She looked up. Toby's face had grown solemn, the lines in his dark skin deep and shadowed. He didn't look angry, though, just sad.

He shook it off.

"Look, I'm sorry," he said. "I'm not trying to freak you out or preach to you, okay? I'm just trying to offer some kind of... I don't know... stability in this big clusterfuck we've got going on now.

"I found this church about a year ago. The preacher and his wife were dead, so I got rid of them and set up shop. I'm not really a holy man or anything. I'm just feeling my way as I go. I pulled the piano out here, and I play every Sunday. Every now and then somebody hears it and wanders along. Most of the time they don't. I'm just trying to make a difference Sis----Holly, give a little comfort to anybody who might happen by. I don't mean to creep anybody out."

Holly stared at the worn wooden steps for a moment, then nodded. "I'm sorry. Really. I didn't mean to come off like that. It's just, well, you know what's happened to the world. We all do, right? We've all got to be careful, and I guess I'm trying to be a little more cautious than most. Like I said, I'm sorry."

Toby dismissed her with a wave. "It's not a problem. I won't have you pretend that it is, okay? You stay if you want, or you go along your way when you feel you're ready. In the meantime, let me know if there's anything I can do to help."

The offer made Holly's throat burn, and she realized she had been without water for at least a day. She tried to swallow, but a scratchy dryness prevented it, and she almost coughed out a few rough notes before she managed to recover.

"You got any water?" she asked, and her voice sounded raspy, like old newspaper tumbling across hot concrete. She rubbed her throat with one hand, wincing at the pain the sentence had caused.

Toby's fingers leapt from the keyboard. He stood almost as quickly. "Water? Sure! I always keep a few jugs handy. It's not cold, of course, but it should help your thirst a little bit, regardless."

"Thanks."

He stepped to the church's double door and motioned for Holly to stand. "C'mon in, Holly. It'll do you good to get out of the hot sun, anyway."

She couldn't argue with that. Even this early in the morning the heat and humidity seemed to press down on her from all sides. A few minutes inside, where she would at least be in the shade, would probably do wonders.

She grunted and pushed herself to her feet. She dusted her jeans off with her hands. "Sounds good, Toby. Lead the way."