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Fortunately, there was nothing lurking on the first floorlanding, so I continued down the corridor, glancing into the livingroom as I slipped past the doorway.Mom was lying on the sofa.No, that's not the right word. She wasn't lying; she had collapsed likea landslide, like an imploded skyscraper. The sofa was surrounded bythe wreckage of her disintegration; a chaos of upturned furniture,broken bottles and cast-off pizza cartons. Shattered glass and scrapsof refuse littered the floor; a trail of chicken bones and KFC boxesled out to the kitchen. The whole downstairs area was a wastelandstinking of garbage and cigarettes and three-day old vomit.But worse than all this was my mother herself.She was sprawled half off the sofa with her knuckles grazing the floor,her lank, matted hair pasted to the side of her face. A thin runner ofdrool hung from the corner of her mouth, threading its way tenuously tothe floor. Her face was puffy and bloated, the skin tinged with a faintyellow cast. I. “Smell electric,” Bob sent to me. He was actually smelling the ozone created by the high voltage running through the fence that was generated when insects were fried when hitting or landing on the wires. It appeared that getting into the compound, even here where the defenses were down, was going to be more difficult than I had anticipated.While I spent some time considering my options for getting past the fence and into the compound, Bob and Susie had been sampling the breeze which had shifted in the last few minutes.“Big, smell bad prey animals in trees. Can chase into fence, break fence, maybe eat when dead,” Bob sent to me about the time I was out of ideas.“How many?” I sent hoping for an estimate better than I usually got from Bob.“Some,” he sent back.“How many? One, two, five, two fives?” I sent back.“Not sure,” Susie sent. “Some,” she repeated.“Wait for now, while I see how the others are doing,” I sent to them before switching to Miranda.“How is it going?” I sent to her.“Not.
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