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... p>

He glanced at the woman watching us and then turned away.

“She’s not human. She’s already dead. That’s why we call them candles.”

“Candles?”

I asked, staring blankly at the woman—undeniably alive—smiling at us from a distance.

He nodded.

“Like candles, just waiting to burn out.”

It wasn’t just her he was referring to. “Candles” clearly meant all the unmoving, zombie-like humans here.

They weren’t hostile. They weren’t talking.

...

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