The man remained in front of the farmhouse with both hands above his head.
He looked thin, dirty, and terrified enough that I doubted he had walked into the field because he wanted to steal one of Chenghai's vehicles. Then again, people had done considerably stupider things since the apocalypse began.
Chenghai turned off the engine but kept one arm around my waist.
The sudden quiet made the field feel much larger. Grass moved around the track, birds called from the trees, and the stranger stood in the open doorway wondering whether we planned to use him as another obstacle.
"Why are you standing in the track?" I called.
The man looked down at the flattened grass beneath his feet. His face changed when he realized where he had stopped. "I'm sorry," he sputtered, looking at both me and Chenghai. "I just panicked."
"That doesn't make it a better place to stand," I replied, scoffing.
