Sara kills Maya

As soon as we enter the apartment, a revolting stench invades my nostrils. It makes me retch, but Naomi manages to stay a bit more composed. She steps forward and calls out, covering her nose.

Naomi
Hello? Maya?

This smell isn't like the decaying flesh of the zeds. But nonetheless it smacks of death. It reminds me of the day the outbreak first began, when I left the cafe with Sara and the streets were littered with corpses. God, that seems like a lifetime ago now.

Disturbingly, the memory doesn't stir any emotion in me. I'm not at all sure what to make of that.

Naomi
This isn't good.

Maya hasn't responded. And that smell can only mean one thing.

I knew she had been suicidal before... but she seemed to be over that. Did she really go through with it after all? Or maybe...

We approach the master bedroom. As we near it, the stench only gets stronger.

Taking a deep breath to steel herself, Naomi opens the door.

Naomi
Oh god--

There she is on the bed, gutted open like a fish, her face a pulpy, boney mess. Someone took a knife to her and mutilated her almost beyond recognition.

"Someone." Yeah, right.

You did this, Sara. You fucking monster.

First my best friend... and now a lonely old woman who had nothing to do with this at all.

Why?

God, there's so much blood -- an unbelievable volume of it, pooled in thick congealing puddles all around the room. There's gore splattered everywhere... her nose is chopped off... some of her fingers, too... with a shudder, I realize that I'm standing on one of her ears.

I knew Sara was insane. I also knew -- all too well -- she was capable of murder.  But the sheer evil in this obscenity before me is evidence of how far into the gaping maw of madness she has really fallen. Who knows how long Maya lingered before she finally died... how long Sara tortured her. What kind of person can do this to another human being? What kind of person derives pleasure from such horror? More practically, how could she have stood this /smell/?

Is there any humanity left in her at all? Or is she really a mindless, unfeeling /thing/, no different than the shambling creatures on the streets outside?

How did she get to this point? Was she always like this underneath the surface, like Bro said? Or did I push her into it, like she told me when she left the church?

Am I responsible for this?

In some way. On some level. I guess I am.

Maya... I'm so sorry. It's because of me that you met this horrifying end.

Naomi
Three what?

Grey
Huh?

I look around the room, confused. That's when I notice what Naomi's talking about. Above the bed's headboard, scrawled on the wall in Maya's blood, is a giant numeral "3."

I consider what it means for a moment before the awful realization hits me.

Grey
It's a tally.

Naomi
What?

Grey
It all makes sense now. When Sara... when she killed him...

I trail off, the memory of that day still too painful to verbalize. Naomi puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder, giving me the strength to continue.

Grey
She drew a line across the floor in his blood before she left. But it wasn't just a line after all. It was a one.

Naomi
One... three... so where's two?

There's another victim out there. The thought of that threatens to make me vomit.

I turn away from the bloody scene and head back into the living room, collapsing onto the couch, suddenly feeling very tired. Naomi follows and stands before me. Playing chessmaster, as usual. Planning our next move while she questions me.

Naomi
Grey, this is important. Do you know anyone else outside of the church who Sara might target?

Grey
No... I mean... I  had a lot of friends before this whole thing started. Some of them didn't really like Sara and the feeling was mutual. But for all I knew -- for all Sara knew -- they've been dead since the outbreak began. I don't really think Sara would go out of her way... I mean, to track them down, not even knowing if they were still alive...

Naomi frowns.

Grey
Okay, maybe I shouldn't put it past her. I just don't think though--

I stop myself short, suddenly remembering something.

Grey
There is that girl in my complex. Jun.

Naomi
The shut-in girl?

Grey
Yeah. I've visited her a few times. Sara always complained whenever she found out where I was going.

Grey
...Christ. She's two.

Naomi
We have to go check on her.

Grey
It's almost night. Shouldn't we get back to the church?

Naomi
We have to make sure. If she's not number two, she could very well be number four. Do you want another body on you conscience?

I glower and look away from her.

Naomi
I-- I didn't mean it like that.

I don't respond. Naomi thinks I'm angry at her, but I'm not. She just hit too close to home. These bodies /do/ hang heavy on my conscience. For the rest of my life -- whether I die a day or a year or five decades from now -- the events of these past few days are always going to haunt me.

Naomi
This isn't your fault. You know that. But if there's a chance... even a small one, that we can stop it from happening again...

Grey
Get your things and let's go, then.

Naomi
Right.