Philip doesn't sleep. No, that's a bit of a lie. Two attacks, blood loss to match, honestly, that's as good a time for a time out as any. And when he can't reach Evie in the evening there's really no reason for him to stay awake and alert any longer.

So the night comes and goes, and when daylight shines on his face it sends a shiver down his spine, because he can hear the whispers again, word after word he can't decipher, that ominous chant of--

...Of something that, as soon as he's properly awake, is nowhere near remotely alien, and decidedly not caused by ancient zombies, or the infections thereof. No, Philip recognises a word or two now. And worse, the voice is starting to sound bloody familiar too.

Without turning his head he opens one eye. Then the second. Then he closes both again with a groan.

"You've got to be kidding me."