Henry motioned to the man he had entered the house with to wait a minute. He called himself McClaron, but by the black shirt and white tabbed collar, Henry imagined that up until twelve hours ago he was called father McClaron.

McClaron nodded his head in understanding as he lowered his gun as Henry reached for the door.

Henry had come across McClaron hiding in a ditch. Henry hadn’t noticed that he was there, until he noticed McClaron’s Springfield barring down on him. It took some convincing on Henry’s part to prove that he was in fact human before McClaron lowered his rifle. For the past ten hours or so, they had been inseparable. Henry knew he had gained his trust when McClaron offered him a Winchester he was caring in his waistband, Henry shook his head and pulled back his jacket to show him his Colt.

“Where are you from?” McClaron had asked as he leaned his Springfield against a tree and removed a canteen that he had slung over his shoulder.

“Town. You?”

“Same,” he said as he took a pull from the canteen, not offering any to Henry, screwing the cap back on and slinging it back over his shoulder.

When McClaron noticed that the door to the basement was locked when Henry turned the knob he indicated that they should knock it down by mimicking the motion of slamming the butt of his rifle against the door.

“There is somebody down there for sure, Mic. What if they’re… you know, like the others? Are you prepared to shoot them?” Henry asked in a low whisper.

McClaron nodded his head. “I was prepared to shoot you if you made a move I didn’t much like.”

Henry saw something cold in McClaron’s eyes, something that caught him by surprise. ” Just wondering, you being…” he motioned to his white collar.

“Odds are all of humanity is dead except for you and me. Since God left me here I can only imagine that he wants me to rid what’s left of the earth of all that is evil.” He looked down at his rifle, making sure that it was ready to fire. “If that means killing everything that is evil, then that’s doesn’t look right in the eyes, like those fellas we seen yesterday, then I’m prepared to do that. This collar around my neck means nothing. After all, God left you here for the same purpose and you aren’t wearing a collar.”

Anticipation, that is what Henry saw in McClarons eyes, as he talked about killing in his deep southern drawl. It was the look that a redneck gets the night before the big hunt.

Again, McClaron motioned to knock down the door, again, Henry shook his hand, indicating that he wanted a minute to think. After a short pause he knocked on the door and said: “Hello, anybody down there?”

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