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Page 128
used to it and took off around the golf course.
On the far side of the links, he slowed to a trot to admire the way the setting sun turned the modern glass-and-steel skyscrapers that surrounded the course into pillars of fire. He made four more laps around the course and then glanced at his watch; it was six forty-five and the fairways were completely deserted. He paused beside a stand of trees at the edge of a small water hazard to catch his breath. A red-breasted robin up in the branches of the nearest tree took time away from her busy schedule to sing a welcome: "Cheer-up, cheerily, cheer-up, cheerily."
Giving the little bird a salute, Cyrus said, "Thanks for the advice."
After a quick look around, he stepped back into the shadows of the trees. It was cold. He shook his arms and shoulders and rolled his head around his neck, whispering as he did so to his little feathered friend, "Okay. Lets see if I can do this when something isn't trying to have me for lunch."
First Cyrus tried to clear his mindnot an easy task when you're freezing to death and a bird is chirping in your ear. Then he thought about Calgary and tried to remember what had been going through his head when the zombie started choking him. He had no trouble recalling the touch of the creature's cold dead fingers or its soulless red eyes. He even remembered being scared, but that's all it wasa memory. He wanted to re-create the same mind-numbing terror and it just wouldn't come.
Then he tried to recollect every detail of the attack in the motel roomthe snazards' foul stench and the slimy feel of their skin. But after five minutes of intense concentration, all he got was a headache.
"Hard to rerun being scared."
The robin had no opinion.
Things weren't working out the way he'd hoped so he decided to try a new tack.
After undressing and stacking his clothing in a neat pile, Cyrus took a seat at the base of the robin's tree and made

 
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