Since they don't seem to be having private discussions any more, James joins them, blanket still over his shoulders but looking much less pathetic now.

"They're still alive," he says, looking from one to the other of the people he doesn't know, boggling only a little at the babies. "The bodies. Some of them, anyway. People just ... stop doing anything. They die eventually. Dehydration. Or stray animals. As far as I know I'm the only one still alive."

His voice is flat, toneless.