They sat quietly. Occasionally Red would cast his line again, or she would, and the quiet would be interrupted by the plonk of the lure and float hitting the water.
“Look,” she said, shocking him out of his tranquility. She was pointing at the dock, where a dozen or more zombies had gathered and were now staring at them.
“They won’t come in the water.”
“Is there another dock somewhere?”
“Down at the other end, near the road. Then we’ll have to double back to the car.” He cast his line again. “Might have to run the last few yards.”