The baby's insistent cry bounced off the walls of the surrounding houses, making it sound like they'd entered a neighborhood full of children. The reality was that the neighborhood was eerily calm. The wind had ceased gusting. The area was draped in quiet. Without Lana's screams, they might've been walking through a remote area of the wilderness rather than a neighborhood once full of life. The doors and windows were sufficiently tattered to indicate that no one was left. Despite the houses' condition, Tom saw no bodies. He guessed the creatures had come back and picked through the remains. Whatever the case, Tom had no urge to slow down or stop. "I don't like this neighborhood," Maria hissed over at him. "I don't, either," he agreed. He peered through each of the windows and doors as they walked, keeping the group to the center of the street. Being exposed felt less dangerous than getting close to the buildings. Tom had the irrational fear that the residences might spring to life and suck them inside.
