She shall be called woman” ~ Genesis 2:18-25 It was hot. Stupidly hot. A few more steps went by, and Margie still hadn’t spoken. “Hey,” I said a little more firmly, poking her in the shoulder. “You still with me?” Margie was stumbling along next to me, Steve and his sprained ankle trailing slightly behind. Everyone was feeling weakened, the food runs having been unproductive for the last several days. We were headed to Suicide Bridge, to cross it and hit the gas station about a half a mile further up the road. We named it that because it's the place where many that didn't want to be judged took their own lives, leaping off the overpass to their deaths on the concrete road forty feet below. It’s a horrible place. Beneath the bridge the bodies just lay there in the road, rotting; the stench of human fodder carrying for miles.
