Four miles north of Camp Ridge, a white country church is still keeping its gravel raked. Hot water for strangers. Firewood split to even lengths. A cross high on the gable and a pastor at the door with a smile that never slips. Two weeks into the collapse, with the living staying off the roads and the dead past counting, somebody up there is spending calories on appearances. Calloway sends a vetted team to find out why, and the answer starts going wrong before the trucks stop rolling.

Inside, the warmth is a mechanism. The pews face front because somebody decided they would. A woman against the wall has taught herself not to look at the door. A child has learned that stillness is the only thing that costs nothing. And moving through the middle of the performance with a water bucket and eleven days of silence is Daniel Reeves, a former EMT  ...