"If there is," said the biologist with a shrug, "we've already been exposed. There's nothing we can do about it."
An uneasy silence possessed them. Matt was conscious of a faint wind rustling the tree leaves outside.
"Suppose we look around," he said at length.
Almost reluctantly, they followed him back through the house. Dirty dishes were piled on the dining room table, more dirty dishes in the kitchen sink. Dirt and dust lay thick on everything.
They climbed the stairs. Matt pulled the first door open. A strong fetid stench met his nostrils. He hastily shut it.
"There's another one in there," he said. "The pigs couldn't get to the body, I suppose."
"Let's get out of here!" Lynn pleaded. "We've seen enough!"
Matt saw that they all appeared pale and sick. He wasn't feeling too robust himself. "O.K. Let's go!"
They stumbled down the steps and out the back door. There was a pump in the yard and, a hundred yards or so from the house, a large weathered barn. They advanced cautiously toward it.
A cow had died in one of the stalls, starved to death. There was also a large truck and a sedan. A cat, wild as any rabbit, shot suddenly across their path and scooted under one of the stalls.