Then I put my running outfit back on and headed for the front door.Martha frowned at me from the kitchen. "You're going out there again?" Yes," I said... and I went out the door. For an hour I jogged up and down the promenade along the East River between 77th and 89th Streets. I was amazed at how long I kept going, even with weak legs from Fiore's earlier workout. I was fueled by anger and frustration. At the end of the hour I had burned up the physical urge to strike back at history and time.. After all, she risked her life to protect them. If she’s as dangerous as you suggest, why wouldn’t she just charge the front gate, or stand back and issue demands. Hell, she didn’t need to walk to our door, alone and unprotected, and ask us to understand how the zombie’s think, if she’s as nefarious as you suspect.”“Unless it’s a plot to gain our trust before turning on us,” Jefferson cautioned.“Again, it’s unlikely. The simpler answer is the zombies sought her out because she doesn’t kill. More

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