"This way! Hurry," said the strange, beanie-clad boy. He was leading me down a labyrinth of back alleys, turning at random down every other concrete corridor we came upon.

​        "Where are we going?"

        ​He didn't answer me. Soon, we found ourselves facing the backside of a brick-lined building. It was a dead-end. My heart sank.

        ​"Now what? I thought you knew where you were going! How are we--?"

        ​His palm came down on my shoulder. "Hey," he said.

        ​I stared at him.

        ​"You know how to shut up?"

​        My eyes went wide. "What?! What do you--?"

        ​"Do you get that we lost 'em a few minutes ago?"

​        "I-- We...did?" I caught my breath, listening for the sounds of gargalite footfalls or sickly growls. I heard none.

        ​"Yeah, but if you keep yapping on and on, they're gonna find us again. You want that?"

​        I shook my head.

        ​"Okay. So. Shut up."

        "Wait. What's your name?"

        ​"What'd I just say?"

​        "I don't even know if I can trust you," I said, though quieter now. "You can at least give me your name."

​        The boy sighed, but complied. "Jake," he said. He held out his hand and I shook it.

        ​"Andrew," I said.

        ​"Yeah, I know. I heard that garg screaming your name a bunch of times."

        ​"Oh. Right."

        "She your girlfriend or something?"

        ​"She was almost my fiancée."

        ​"Yikes."

        ​"Yeah."

        ​Jake began to walk me back down the same alley we'd just entered directing me from the dead-end towards a new passage on our left.

        ​"Thank you," I said. "For saving me."

        ​"Sure," he said.

        ​We walked in silence for a few moments and, now that the adrenaline was starting to wear off, I began to feel the pain accumulating on the bottoms of my feet. They were still bare--I'd run down sidewalks, across streets, and through dirty alleys. I winced as I looked down to inspect them. Both soles were nearly black with dirt, and there was a small spot of blood right beneath one of my big toes.

​        "You okay?" Jake asked.

        ​"My feet. I cut myself."

        ​"Yeah, I was wondering why you were barefoot."

        ​"Shay turned in our apartment, and I just booked it. I didn't have time to put on shoes."

        ​"Well, don't worry. We're almost to my hideout. You can get yourself cleaned up."

        ​"Hideout?"

        ​"Yeah. What size are you?" Jake looked back and pointed down at my feet. For some reason, his attention on them made me a little shy.

        ​"Um, eleven."

        ​"Aw, damn. I was gonna let you borrow a pair, but I'm a nine."

        ​How strange this was. There we were--strangers until moments ago, him having saved my life from two crazed, plague-ridden monsters--in the middle of an alleyway discussing shoe size.

​        "Here," said Jake, pointing up to an iron ladder at the base of the next building. It led up to a fire escape. I recognized where we were.

        ​"The Kavalier Apartments?"

        ​"Yep." Jake heaved himself up onto the ladder and began to climb. "Got myself a nice one up top."

        ​"What?"

        ​"C'mon," he said.

        ​"How many floors up?" I was mentally and physically exhausted, not to mention I wasn't the biggest fan of heights.

​        "Twelve," he said.

        ​"Twelve...?"

        ​"You'd rather stay down here?"

        ​I sighed. "No." I extended my arm and I let him help me up. Our ascent was quiet save for the distant sounds of sirens. A sudden gust embraced me and I shivered.

        "How you doing?" Jake asked after a few floors. He also sounded a little winded.

        "Fine," I said, taking a moment to rest. My legs and feet were killing me.

        "Almost there. Next"--Jake paused to take in a lungful of air--"window up."

        "Okay," I said. As I neared the upcoming entry point--a massive window nearly the size of a door--I took a moment to look inside. Nestled away in the darkness rested a fairly spacious apartment. Cozy, comfortable, and much better than my place. I could only see one room, but it was large and decorated with modern furniture.

        "Let's get inside," said Jake. To my surprise, he slid the massive pane of glass upward with ease. He hopped inside and I followed. The warmth of the interior was welcoming.

        "Whose place is this?" I asked.

        "Not sure. Probably some wealthy person who skipped town when everything went to hell."

        "You're squatting here," I said, a little skeptical.

        "You got a problem with it, you're welcome to go back out there, back to your place."

        "No, no." I couldn't help but smirk. "Sorry, I just-- Like I said, I'm still trying to establish some trust here."

        ​"Me saving you wasn't enough?"

        ​I dropped my head sheepishly. "No, it was. It's just-- I'm sorry, I-- A lot has happened tonight."

​        He seemed to understand this. "I get it," he said. He closed up the window, locked it, and then drew the curtains. Afterward, he made his way deeper into the apartment and turned on a few lights. We were silhouetted by a soft, dim aura.

​        "You know, it's kinda weird having you here," he said, plopping himself down on the sofa in the middle of the room. "I haven't had company in a long time." He slipped off his shoes and put his feet up on the coffee table in front of him. I couldn't help but glance at them. His socks were very clean.

        "How...old are you?" I asked. He looked young.

        "Eighteen." He almost sounded proud saying it, as if it proved something.

        "And...you're on your own?"

        ​Jake frowned. "Yeah." His tone suddenly went cold. "I, uh... My folks were killed during the evac in San Diego."

        ​"Oh. I'm-- I'm so sorry." My heart sank, and memories of my own losses flooded back. "I... I lost my parents too."

​        Jake locked eyes with me. "What happened?"

        "Car accident," I said. "Right around the time things started getting crazy." I slid my hands in my pockets and looked down at the floor. I felt the reminder of the ring box in my pocket.

        "I'm...sorry," he said, and though he was echoing my sentiments from before, it felt genuine. I thanked him and I tenderly walked over to the sofa, feet still incredibly sore. I sat down beside him, still giving him an appropriate amount of space. ​We remained in heavy silence for a long while. Finally, I said, "How long would you say before it's safe for me to go back?" I directed my attention towards the enormous window.

        ​"To your place?" 

        I nodded.

        ​"I don't think that's a good idea," he said.

        ​"Why?"

        ​"Your girlfriend'll be waiting for you there. You know that, right?"

​        "She...will?"

        ​"Yeah. You said she just turned?" he asked.

        ​"Yeah..."

        ​"So, she's still pretty much herself. Most of who she is. She's gonna go back to where she thinks you'll go." he explained.

        ​"What? That...can't be a thing."

        ​"It is. Trust me. It'll be awhile before she begins to hunt or wander."

        ​Hunt. Wander. As if she were an animal.

        "We should stick together for now," said Jake. His blue eyes darted up to mine, and I caught myself staring at his feet again. I had to admit, his were pretty nice. Again, my favorite spot. Fearing he would notice, I quickly shifted my gaze to the taupe-colored walls around us. After a moment, he stood up, and made his way back over to the door-sized window. "This whole thing's so crazy, you know?"

        ​I almost laughed. "That's an understatement."

        He reached over to a nearby table and picked up a piece of paper. It rustled softly in his hands, and I caught a glimpse of it, recognizing it almost instantly. A flyer. It depicted the acronym 'G.U.A.R.D.' with the local hotline number below and, just below that, in bold, sans-serif font:

LAUGHTER IS A CRY FOR HELP.

​​​        "These are all over the city now," said Jake. 

        "Yeah. And I don't think most people do what they tell 'em to do." I shrugged. "When people hear laughter, they don't call for help. They run." I thought a moment. "You know, speaking of... I heard laughter earlier. That's how I got away. It distracted Shay and the other Infected."

        "You heard laughter?" 

        ​"Yeah." I nodded. "It sounded like a kid. It was a little creepy."

​        "Was it close by?"

        ​"Probably." I furrowed my brow. "Why?"

        ​"Hold on." Jake made his way from the window and towards a dresser on the adjacent wall. He pulled open a drawer and retrieved from it a small device that looked like an old cassette player. I hadn't seen one in ages.

        ​"What's that for?" I asked. Exhaustion was starting to set in, and I found myself shifting to a more comfortable position on the couch.

​        "Listen." Jake turned on the cassette player, and I heard it momentarily--a laugh. It was a cute, male laugh, a fusion of quick, short breaths and deep-sounding amusement. Playful, yet tense. It was genuine- desperate almost--and it made me shiver. "This what you heard earlier?" he asked.

        ​"I'm not sure," I said. "Why...do you have that?"

        ​Jake smiled. "It's mine." Again, he sounded proud.

        ​"What do you mean?"

        ​"It's my laugh. The recording."

​        It took my tired brain a moment to process what he was telling me. "Wait." I tilted my head. "You recorded your own...laugh?"

        ​"Yeah." He almost sounded proud. "I use it to lure the gargs to certain areas. Keep them away from the places I'm trying to scope out."

        ​I raised my eyebrows. "Does...that work?"

        ​He shrugged. "Sometimes. I mean, they usually wise up after awhile, but...it helps."

​        "Huh." I studied him a moment. "That's...actually pretty brilliant."

        ​He grinned again. "Thanks." His smile only lasted a moment before a serious expression crossed his face again. "What I'm having trouble wrapping my brain around is how the laughs affect the Infected." He crossed his arms. "I know that they enjoy hearing it. They need to hear it," he said. "Almost like it makes 'em stronger, you know?"

        I shifted my position again as I listened to him, letting out a sharp hiss as​ my sensitive, injured feet touched down on the floor.

        ​"You should probably get yourself cleaned up," Jake said.

        ​"I think that's a good idea."

        ​"There's a bathroom you can use, just down that hall there." He pointed behind the sofa. "Second door on the left."

        ​"Thanks. You got any socks I can borrow?" I asked, probing at the tender spot beneath my big toe.

        "Yeah. I can even grab you a change of clothes. If you want." He was eyeing my formal attire. So much for getting dressed up for the perfect evening, I thought. 

        ​"Sure," I said again. "Thanks."

        ​"Be right back." He jogged around the coffee table in the center of the room and made his way down the hall behind me.

        ​As soon as I was alone in the quiet space of the Kavalier apartment, I began to reflect on everything that had happened over the last hour. It was starting to dawn on me now, really dawn on me--I had lost the only person I had left.

        Shay was gone.