He chews his lip, tilts his head as though listening... then shrugs in defeat.

"No zombie moans or ghostly whispers. It's more like I can hear the absence." That's edging into spooky-weird territory again, and he looks kind of sheepish about it, casts about for a metaphor: "You ever lived in a city? Through the window at night, you can hear all the cars, all the movement, millions of people milling around. Then you get out in the country and it sounds wide-open. You can hear the space around every calling owl.

"I can tell they're peaceful because it feels still, you know? Like a night in the country."