I looked up from the book. The boy I'd talked to earlier had followed me. "You shouldn't be here."
"You're here," he replied, standing by the door and peering out into the storm.
I shrugged. As long as he didn't come further in, he wouldn't risk running into the rotting bodies dotting the restaurant. How far behind me had he been? Did he know about them?
I looked down to find that the story had skipped part of the narrative. There was a small gap where I'd stopped reading, and no text in between. Odd… but, then again, this wasn't just a book, and these weren't just written words…