Carrying Michael's body up the hill wasn't particularly difficult. It was fairly disturbing, though. Each jostle moved the dirt and rotting skin around, and as George watched, a tooth dropped out of Michael's rotted gums to land in the back of his throat.
Jesus Christ, George thought, snapping his eyes closed and shaking his head. He'd seen bodies plenty of times before, but this was different. This was his friend.
They approached the town border well away from the car, pausing for a moment as they neared what had to be the edges of it.
"We ready?" George asked softly, looking to Raphael for confirmation. At his nod, the group moved forward and crossed the border out of Lebanon.