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It's something very close to bubonic plague. Perhaps some mutation of the bacillus. But to all intents and purposes it's the same as the Black Death.
No shock. No grief. Perhaps he had seen too many dead in the last few days.
"A generator," Abby thought, and then, with more excitement: "If there are lights, there are people."
"If we stay together as a group, then we have to decide what our aims are."
“In the morning I'll get you close enough to the house to have a look at the kids. There are four of them about your son's age."
"But in the present situation, where does any kind of ownership begin or end?”
Abby prepared with great thoroughness. Ready, her facts assembled, she waited until she judged the time was right.
"Did you remember to put a note out for the milkman and stop the papers?"