Zombi wanted meat. Warm, breathing, living meat. He had eaten the dead already, the ones from the crashed plane, but their flesh was cold and gave him nothing. One living human still hid on this island. Zombi meant to catch that human and feed. But tonight his nose was empty. No sweat, no fear, no blood on the wind. He shambled through the dark with no trail to follow, arms out, jaw slack. He stopped at a small fire near the sand. Someone had built it from driftwood. The flames were weak and smoky, but they were fresh. The living had been here. Zombi swung his head and pulled air through his rotted nose. Nothing. The salt wind stole every scent. Then his foot struck something in the sand. He bent and clawed it up. A metal locket, cracked across the front, hung open in his gray fingers. Inside was a photo of a young girl. Zombi did not care about the face. He pressed the metal to his nose and breathed. Scent. Faint, but real. A child's smell clung to the locket. Salt, sweat, and living skin. His dead heart did not beat, but his hunger woke and pulled him upright. A branch snapped behind the fire. Zombi turned. Two shapes rushed him from the dark. A man in a torn flowered shirt, thin as bone, beard wild. Beside him a woman, jaw hard, fists up. "That's Sarah's," the man said. His voice cracked. "That's my daughter's locket. Give it back." The woman did not wait. She grabbed a burning stick from the fire and swung it at Zombi's face. Sparks flew. The flame kissed his cheek and his old skin sizzled. Zombi lurched back, moaning, but he did not drop the locket. "Where did you get it?" she shouted. Her eyes were wet and wild. "Where is she? Where's my girl?" Zombi did not answer. He could not. He only knew the locket smelled like living food, and these two smelled like it too. He reached for the woman. The man drove into him hard. Both of them fell into the sand. The locket flew from Zombi's hand. The man snatched it up and pulled the woman back toward the trees. "Run, Eva," the man said. "Just run." They fled into the dark. Zombi rolled onto his knees. His cheek still smoked. But now he understood. Two more warm bodies breathed on this island. And they were chasing the same small scent he had found. The girl was real. The girl was near. Zombi rose. He could no longer smell the locket, gone now with the man. But he had heard a name and seen the fear in their faces. They would lead him to the child. He turned toward the trees where they had run and began to follow their fresh tracks in the sand.