Zombie Attack! Rise of the Horde
Author: Devan Sagliani
Date: 2012-06-28 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Zombies; Horror; Fiction; Young Adult; Apocalyptic; Post Apocalyptic
Description: When 16 year old Xander's older brother Moto left him at Vandenberg Airforce Base he only had one request - don't leave no matter what. But there was no way he could have known that one day zombies would gather into groups big enough to knock down walls and take out entire buildings full of people. That was before the rise of the horde! Now Xander is on the run, fleeing south to Port Hueneme to locate his brother with nothing but his martial arts training and the katana blade left to him. Along the way he'll have to fight for his life against other survivors, neo-Nazi's, outlaw bikers, gang ba
Publisher: Smashwords

Zombie Attack!

RISE OF THE HORDE, BOOK 1

CURSE OF THE LIVING, BOOK 2

ARMY OF THE DEAD, BOOK 3

By Devan Sagliani
http://devansagliani.com
http://facebook.com/zombieattackriseofthehorde

for Annalucia

Zombie Attack: Rise of the Horde

By

Devan Sagliani

Praise for Zombie Attack!

"An excellent composition of prose, action, dialogue and foreshadowing is Rise of the Horde that is indicative of a well-seasoned story teller. Devan Sagliani's endeavor is tremendous in luring readers into anticipating more and more. Whether you're an avid reader or been bitten by the curiosity bug in zombielore, there's a little something for everyone in Rise of the Horde."

-- HORROR NEWS

"A must have for all zombie addicts!" 5/5 Stars!

-- ZOMBIE GUIDE MAGAZINE

"'Zombie Attack Rise of the Horde' is a must read for fans of the Rot & Ruin series and The Walking Dead!"

-- YA BOOKS CENTRAL

“'Zombie Attack: Rise of the Horde' is everything the blurb promises it to be, and much, much more! A tale of despair and sacrifice, small precious victories, farewells and reunions, and subtle spirituality, "Zombie Attack: Rise of the Horde" is a book I would highly recommend to readers looking for an enormously thrilling story with a degree of depth to it. As the book ends with a bit of a cliff hanger, I sincerely hope that we'll soon see more books from this brilliant author."

-- BOOKS FOR TOMORROW

"Whoa! This book is a super exciting fast paced trip! I enjoyed it greatly. So will I be buying the next book? Hell yes I will. Without a doubt!"

-- CONTAGIOUS READS

"Devan Sagliani breathes new life into a tired over indulgent genre. Many avid readers will have difficulty putting it down."

-- HELLNOTES

"One of the best YA zombie books I've ever read."

-- FEED THE ZOMBIE CHILDREN

"This was such a super fun and highly entertaining story, I could not put it down! I highly recommend this book to anyone who enjoys badass characters and bold story lines, you won't be disappointed!"

-- BOOKISH

"Sagliani manages to pull out another winner." Bookie Monster

-- SHANA FESTA /BOOKIEMONSTER

"What really brings this entertaining story together is Sagliani's writing style. He turns violence into poetry."

-- BRICKS OF THE DEAD

"The story moves very fast...readers won't find any time to be bored. Fans of Jonathan Maberry's "Rot and Ruin" series will like this one as well. I'm eagerly waiting for the rest of this series!"

-- LIVING DEAD MEDIA

"I highly recommend Rise of the Horde to all fans of zombie fiction, especially those who plan to survive the zombie apocalypse!"

-- MY BOOK ADDICTION

"Full five out of five stars...This book is basically everything you could ask for in a YA zombie-apocalyptic!" Starry-eyed Heart Book Blog

-- STARRY-EYED HEART BOOK BLOG

Zombie Attack: Rise of the Horde

by Devan Sagliani

Laughing Crow Media copyright © 2012

All Rights Reserved.

Cover art by Christian Bentulan

This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author and publisher.

License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for you, please purchase your own copy.

Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Chapter One

If I can survive this day, just this one day . . . my crazy thoughts raced as the monstrous hordes closed in on me . . . then I can survive anything this world throws at me. Where did it all begin? How did I even get to this place in my life?

The last words my brother said to me were, “Don’t leave this place, no matter what happens.” But there was no way he could have known when he said it that one day zombies would form into wild hordes large enough to take out a military stronghold—especially one as large as Vandenberg Air Force Base. We were a small band of survivors, in the end mostly made up of military families, staying together in a big huddle at the back of the barracks where we watched as, one by one, the monsters picked off the soldiers protecting us. We’d made a break-out toward an abandoned elementary school at the edge of the base and taken refuge there.

For a while we were all safe. No one said much. We’d piled up all the furniture against the windows to make sure the ravenous creatures wouldn’t just break the glass and flood in. It’s not like the living dead feel pain. They never get tired either. Once they got the urge to kill and eat you that was pretty much it. They just kept coming until you were dead. You couldn’t plead with them; they had no feelings. Crying wouldn’t do any good.

The creepiest thing I’ve ever seen in my whole life was one of those monsters that used to be a man, all tangled up in barbed wire and broken glass, frantically chewing its own arm off to get loose and join the feed.

We were herded together with no will of our own, desperately trying to survive this madness all around us.

This isn’t going to work, I thought. We’re going to need a better plan, fast.

Mostly we just listened to the fighting outside—the gun fire and the yelling and that terrible low moaning that sucks the very life out of you when you hear it. We learned it was smart to stay away from the windows. Eventually there were less and less of the piercing popping noises and terrified cries. One final living soldier let out a gut wrenching shriek as he ran out of ammunition and they tore him apart, advancing on him from all sides. A cold streak ran down my spine, leaving me shivering in mindless fear as his sobs faded off into echoes of wet, slurping sounds. Then there was nothing but the infinite chorus of low moans and the lifeless shuffling of feet outside. Their massive meal kept them satisfied for about an hour—probably the longest hour of my life. But then their heads came up one by one as they started smelling the air, recognizing that we were there, packed like trapped rats quivering in our own stinky fear.

Time’s up, I thought.

No one made a sound that hour. Honestly, there wasn’t anything to say. I guess we were just praying in our heart of hearts that they might lose interest and leave, but knowing beyond all hope that it wasn’t going to happen. Eventually they’d be coming for us again.

I’d made friends at the base with this younger kid named Benji Jones. He was twelve years old, quiet, choosing not to talk with others and keeping mostly to himself. We all developed ways to block out what was happening, trying to keep our sanity intact in what had become an impossibly insane world.

For me that meant an endless series of martial arts practice and training sessions. I’d go over the top five my brother had taught me in succession, like a loop, often warming up with Tai Chi and ending with high kicks. I used the common grounds area between the buildings and spent hours each day going over the different karate forms until I was literally exhausted. It had become the only way I could sleep at night. When my body was tired, my mind would keep going, but eventually the darkness would pull me under.

There wasn’t a whole lot to do at the base most of the time. They’d assigned jobs to the adults, but for the rest of us, the kids, the days were long and boring. Outside of the base the world as we knew it was burning away, and we were sitting around twiddling our thumbs waiting for someone else to handle the problem for us. It didn’t make any sense at all.

A couple of times, other kids around my age would come up and watch my routine respectfully from a distance. Once a red headed kid asked if he could train with me, but he quit after a day and went back to hanging at the perimeter of the base with the tough looking kids—smoking cigarettes they’d pilfered from their parents and trying to act cool. I hate to say this but he was one of the first I saw go down when they overran us. One minute he was behind us as we fled for our lives and the next I saw him buried alive under a mass of dead, squirming, biting corpses.

Poor bastard, I thought. He didn’t deserve that. None of us deserves this.

For Benji, sanity meant losing himself in comic books. He’d brought a sizable stash with him from his house in Santa Cruz. Captain America. X-Men. Fantastic Four. Justice League. Avengers. Witchblade. A whole bunch of Spiderman. He even had a couple of Walking Dead comics, ironically enough. After a few weeks he got to swapping them with other kids for other comics. People got to know him as the Comic Kid. They’d see him coming and hide, knowing if they started talking with him they’d never get him to shut up. What they didn’t know was that Benji didn’t have anyone else in his life—that he looked forward to having someone to chat up. The stories he kept rambling on about were the only things keeping him from sinking into a deep, dark depression. He’d lost both of his parents on Z-Day—right before his eyes.

By the time the government started acknowledging that there was a real problem, it was already too late to save the civilian population at large. I guess they tried to contain whatever caused the outbreak of people going nuts and eating each other in the streets, and they failed badly. That’s when they officially declared Zombie Day, or Z-Day for short. Talking heads in newsrooms interrupted every channel to tell people that they needed to evacuate their homes and drive to a safe zone, generally a military base or installation. There, they would be quarantined, then set up in internment camps to wait out the worst of it.

Sadly, at that point, there weren’t a whole lot of people who didn’t already know how screwed they were. Most of the major American cities were already crawling with the hungry dead. It wasn’t safe to stick your head outside your house much less drive around like a big, fat target. Let’s just say a lot of good folks didn’t make it.

Benji’s parents told him to wait in the car while they grabbed the last of their valuables before heading to the base. The street had been swarming with zoms by that point. Benji locked the doors and hunkered down. Horrified, from the backseat of his parents’ minivan, he’d seen them devour his family on the front lawn—mom, dad, and little sister. Benji hadn’t been able to make a move to save them.

He must have gone into a state of total shock. He said it was like watching a really scary horror movie on pay-per-view. He hadn’t even thought about what he was doing as he climbed into the front seat and started the van with the keys they’d left in the ignition. Before he knew it, he was calmly driving over bodies in the street. Some were alive and fighting to survive, but most were the living dead. He said he turned on the Frank Sinatra CD his parents had in the van and cranked the volume. The last thing he saw was one of his neighbor’s houses going up in a fireball while Ol’ Blue Eyes crooned “I did it my way . . .”

When he got to the base they took the minivan and all his possessions, except the comic books, and sent him into quarantine. The military needed all the supplies they could get to help take care of all the civilians they’d taken in. Originally they were only supposed to be able to care for about two thousand, but within days of the outbreak the base had about ten thousand people—all hungry, all scared, all pushed to the edge of their sanity by what they had seen and done to get there. A lot of amazing stories will probably never get told.

Some of those people wandered off on their own after a month or so had passed. They were willing to take their chances outside rather than stay on the base and starve while being told what to do all the time. Some wandered out of the safe zone and got picked off by stray zombies. Others volunteered to risk being moved to another safe zone. Some enlisted. By the end of two months we were down to a thousand or less survivors and things were much more manageable—until the horde came, that is.

I met Benji one day when I was heading back after a practice that involved taking out multiple attackers with my beloved katana. It was a gift from my big brother and had turned out to be the most important thing I owned. When the outbreak first started, I didn’t bother to take anything with me other than my sword.

“It’s better than a gun,” my brother had said. “It’s quiet, so it doesn’t draw a lot of attention. And you never have to reload it. All you have to do is keep it clean.” As usual, he was dead right.

I turned a corner and found several boys, eighteen or nineteen years old at least, shoving Benji around between them. His right eye was already swollen up and bruised. No doubt from one of their balled up fists.

“It’s no use fighting us, Benji,” said the biggest of the gang—a greasy haired bully they called Weasel. “We’re going to get them and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. You might as well just give up and put this behind you. Get in line like the others. What’s the point in getting roughed up when you can’t win?”

Just what the world needs, I thought. A philosophy-spouting hooligan.

My fingers twitched slightly with anticipation as I began to remove the blade from its casing. To my surprise, Benji managed to wriggle loose from his captor’s hold. He dropped to the ground, red faced from being choked, and thrust his fist straight out with all the might he could muster, connecting hard with Weasel’s groin. Weasel let out a high pitched squeal like a girl and fell over, frantically clutching himself. The others looked on in shock. Benji used the distraction to grab up his comics and dash toward me.

As fast as he was, it still wasn’t fast enough. Another one of the boys stuck out his leg and tripped him. Benji went down face first, his arms letting go of the comics and thrusting out in front of him to break his fall. A blur of paper showered over me for a minute as comic books rained down and landed at my feet. It was the first that they’d noticed me, but right away I could see from the looks in their eyes that they knew the balance of power had just dramatically shifted.

“What’s going on, Weasel?” I asked.

“This doesn’t concern you, Xander,” he huffed, still winded from getting his family jewels rocked. “Just walk away.”

Despite being only sixteen, I usually got a lot of respect because I knew how to handle myself and I never backed down from a fight. People knew that I was a Macnamara--the equivalent of military royalty because of my brother. Breaking a grown man’s arm when he had tried to steal my samurai sword the first week we were here hadn’t been so bad for my reputation either. Word got around fast after that not to cross me. Since then I’d kept to myself and usually the only time anyone saw me outside was when I was training. To be honest, I was surprised Weasel had challenged me in the first place. As far as I could figure, he must not have wanted to lose face in front of his pathetic gang of long haired thugs.

“That’s not gonna happen,” I said. I thought I heard Weasel let out a small groan as he righted himself back to full standing position. He still looked a little green from the punch to his privates. “In fact, I think you owe young Benji here an apology.”

Weasel smiled at the suggestion, flashing a crooked row of teeth the color of melted butter.

“Is that a fact?” Weasel scoffed.

“For the last two weeks I’ve watched your little gang prey on younger kids on the base,” I said. “I’ve heard stories about you stealing everything from food to family heirlooms. I’d be only too happy to teach you some manners.”

“You got proof to back up those accusations?” Weasel challenged me.

His boys began to fan out in an attempt to circle us. I helped Benji up, pushing him behind me while never taking my eyes off Weasel. A fight was definitely going to happen now. There was no doubt about that. All the talking was just to distract me while he gathered up his courage. I smiled at the thought of having a chance to practice my skills on real life volunteers. I began regulating my breathing, slow and steady.

“I don’t care who your brother is,” Weasel said, spitting on the ground and wiping his mouth with the back of his dirty hand. “I’m not afraid of you, Xander.”

“Well, you should be,” I said in a low voice, more of a promise than a threat.

“No one is going to save you. Out here it’s just you and us.”

“If you’re not afraid of me why don’t you take me on yourself?” I asked as the first of his guys slipped past my peripheral vision.

Weasel smiled wide, looking just like a jack-o-lantern. “You must think I’m stupid.”

“Oh, I do,” I assured him.

“Look out!”

I felt the first blow coming toward the back of my head even before Benji cried out. By the time his warning reached me I’d already ducked under a wide right hook, setting down my sword and reaching up to trap his arm. I grabbed onto it with both hands as I lifted up and jammed my shoulder into his armpit, immobilizing him.

With the slightest amount of downward pressure I could have easily shattered his arm in several places, but I knew I’d catch a lot of heat if I did. Being trained to fight came with certain responsibilities, including knowing when to show some restraint. As good as it would have felt to teach this coward a lesson he wouldn’t forget for trying to sucker punch me in the back of the head, I’d be tying up some limited hospital resources in the process. I’d gotten away with it once before, but the circumstances were radically different. Doing it twice in a row would raise a lot of red flags and bring heat down on me and my brother as well. I couldn’t let him down like that. I locked eyes with Weasel and smiled as I held his minion in place while he hopelessly squirmed to get free. All the color drained from his face.

“Let him go,” Weasel demanded.

The third guy puffed his chest up, gathering all his courage to do something foolish, and then he lunged toward me. With barely a pivot I turned and threw his buddy at him head first, causing his outstretched fist to collide dead on with his pal’s unsuspecting face, knocking him out cold. The weight of his unconscious body pushed the assailant to the ground and pinned him there, helpless.

“Okay then,” I said calmly. “What now?”

“This isn’t over,” Weasel warned me in a low growl. “One of these nights, when your guard is down, I’m gonna pay you back for this.”

I glared at him, all traces of my smile vanishing at the sound of his words.

“Did you just threaten me?”

I knelt down and swooped up my sword, unsheathing the blade and letting the sunlight dance across it. Weasel turned in his crud-covered Converse high tops and ran away as fast as his feet would carry him. I never had a problem with him again. If he had been planning some kind of surprise attack on me, it might have been foiled by the amassing zombie horde, but I doubt it.

I helped Benji gather up his comics and cautiously walked back to the barracks, avoiding making eye contact with soldiers along the way. Military royalty or not, I could be in as much trouble as Weasel if word got out I was fighting civilian kids on the base. I didn’t feel like having to explain myself so I shushed Benji until we were back in his room. After that, there was no keeping him quiet—and he’s been with me ever since, like my shadow.

Suddenly, a loud, inhuman grunt coming from outside the barracks tore through the silence and shook me out of my little trip down memory lane. It was a cold-blooded sound and caused one of the smaller kids to wet himself in fear. The smell of his urine, salty and metallic, harshly permeated the tiny room. No one said a word. I knew we were all thinking the same thing—if we just held our breath long enough the zombie horde would move on and we’d be left alive. No such luck. The sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach told me it wasn’t going to end well for most of us in that room.

Sure enough, within less than five minutes the zombies had sniffed us out. For dead things who can’t feel pain or show emotion, they sure have a fantastic sense of smell, I thought. Soon they were beating their dead fists on the doors and windows. The sound of the hammering echoed down the empty hallways of the elementary school, ringing off locked windows and unoccupied metal lockers.

A couple of the adults got up and blindly bolted out the back door, no doubt thinking they could escape down that long hallway. I knew better than to even try. The way the school was laid out meant that they were heading into a dead end with a high block wall down at the perimeter—originally intended to keep predators out and kids protected from wandering off into traffic unsupervised. Once the zombies got inside, those adults would be trapped like rats in a sinking ship with only one way out—through a maze of undead former human beings, all trying to eat them alive.

The pounding grew louder and more determined. Once those monsters got it into their heads to get into a room, nothing could stop them. It was just a matter of time until they broke down one of the doors and came flooding in. So far as anyone could tell, zombies were driven by an insatiable hunger. It’s not just brains they were after—they would literally eat anything they could get their hands on, so long as it’s got a heartbeat.

No one knows why, or even where they came from. It’s not like there are any experts on the subject. It all happened so fast, no one had time to ask. Anyone who stopped and asked questions was bound to get eaten.

Benji squeezed my hand and gave me a concerned look.

“I’m working on it,” I said in response to his tense stare. “But you’re probably not gonna like it.”

He swallowed hard, bracing himself for action we both knew was coming. In times like these you had to think fast or you were literally dead meat. I was just working out the finer points of my plan to throw open the front door and make a mad dash out past them, straight through the courtyard, when a loud crash shook the building.

Two of the windows popped, showering us with shards of broken glass and drawing loud, terrified screams from several adults. The hinges on the door began to creak under the unstoppable weight of the bodies trying to force their way in. We had only seconds left. I turned back to Benji, unsheathing my blade as I spoke.

“Stay right on my heels,” I said. He nodded back to me in reply. “And no matter what happens, do not fall down.”

I’d barely finished speaking when the metal door flew off its hinges and the putrid stench of the living dead filled the air. Their rank smell overpowered the senses as they poured into the room like demons racing up from the bowels of hell for an all-you-can-eat smorgasbord.

Chapter Two

My first instinct was to spring out and start slashing through them as they came rushing in. Benji and I were crouched so close to the door that it only made sense they would go for us first, piling on top and pinning us down before ripping out and devouring our insides like a piping hot Extra Value Meal at McDonalds.

Only they didn’t. Zombies were attracted to noise and movement first. They rely on their sense of smell when they’ve got nothing else to work with. Benji and I sat as still as the grave these monsters should be rotting in, while the rest of the adults in the room began running around, waving their arms, and screaming at the top of their lungs in fear. They didn’t stand a chance. The zombies were on them before most could make it out the back door to the rat trap.

I’m not gonna lie. There was a part of me that wanted to jump in and fight too, wanted to help the other people in the room as much as I wanted some kind of payback for what was happening to our world. It wasn’t fear that held me back. At that point, I knew I couldn’t save them and jumping in and getting myself killed wasn’t going to change anything. I could feel Benji holding on to the back of my shirt, tugging on it as if he was asking me what my plan was.

I turned back to see his eyes bulging wide with fear as he watched three ghoulish, full grown zombie chew right through a man’s leg. Blood squirted almost to the ceiling as the man endlessly shrieked in agony and despair.

The doorway was clear. Most of the living dead were already in the room with us, snacking on anything that moved or chasing the helpless leftovers down the long corridor.

It’s now or never, I thought.

Taking a deep breath and nodding at Benji, I stood up and bolted forward, sword in hand, ready to slice through anything that got in my way, living or dead. Instantly several sets of jaundiced yellow eyes turned toward us. The zombie with a chunk of a man’s leg in his mouth spit it out and roared in anger as we cleared the door. I didn’t bother to look back. I was certain he was right behind us. I sprinted out into the courtyard, taking in the insane view of the utter carnage as I went. Every few feet, a headless zombie corpse lay twitching. Every few feet, the mangled body of a dead soldier lay ripped to shreds, camouflage stained red and black with blood and ooze.

A zombie woman with long, stringy brown hair and scarlet blood covering her mouth crawled mindlessly toward us. Cut in half by gunfire, she pulled her upper torso along by scratching at the asphalt with long fingers that ended in blood red nails. I had no doubt that if she reached us she would be just as dangerous as all the other reanimated corpses. A sense of dread crept over me as I watched her for a brief moment.

How can we win if cutting them in half doesn’t even stop them? I wondered to myself.

“He’s gaining on us. Which way do we go?” Benji shouted, snapping me out of my horror induced stupor.

A quick glance backward confirmed his words. A single zombie had followed us out of the classroom and was making good time across the gore-strewn grounds in our direction. Whatever intelligence drove these creatures sent him our way to finish off the massacre.

“Hurry!” Benji screamed, fear grossly twisting the features of his face.

Scanning the yard, I saw the route between the far eastern side buildings was wide open. I’d spent countless hours getting the lay of the land when I first arrived and I knew that across the field was Cabrillo Highway, leading south to Lompoc. The sun was already starting to set. Walking in the dark was maybe the dumbest thing we could do, but we had two things going for us. The first was that zombies tended to slow down some at night. Like it or not, they still had human eyes so that meant their visibility went down after dark. The other thing working in our favor was the isolated area we’d be crossing through. Zombies tended to congregate in highly populated areas, as far as anyone knew. That was probably what had driven them to overrun the base in the first place. We weren’t likely to find many of them in the relatively empty space between the base and town. It wasn’t like we had many options at that point, anyway. Either way, we were going to be moving at night.

Better than being trapped inside a small building and surrounded by another horde, I thought.

I pointed toward the buildings to the east.

“We’re heading that way,” I said as calmly as I could, trying to sound like I was in control of myself. I could feel my hand shaking as I pointed, so I dropped it back to my side.

“Watch where you’re stepping,” I cautioned, gesturing toward the ground, “so you don’t slip on the blood and guts, or trip over a body, or get dragged down by a partial zom crawler like that woman.”

The zombie chasing us stopped and let out a loud shriek, sounding like a war cry. He was less than a hundred feet away. Benji and I both stopped and stared at him. Within seconds several other zombies came out from the school, sniffing the air. They turned toward us and began lumbering in our direction, the evidence of their ghastly last meal still staining their fronts.

“No time to waste,” I said. We both took off at a full run, giving it everything we had. I still had my sword in my hand. As we passed the female half zombie, she reached up toward me and bared her teeth. I brought down my katana and decapitated her with a single swipe of the blade. Benji kept glancing back as he ran, trying to see where our pursuers were.

I yelled out and caught his attention, fire burning in my lungs. “Don’t look back. Just keep running!”

By the time we were halfway to the buildings, the carnage beneath our feet had disappeared. The majority of the fighting happened in the open area near the school, as soldiers sacrificed their lives for us.

Most of them died in vain, I thought. What if that had been my brother?

I didn’t have to imagine what it would have been like to know them because I had been on a first name basis with most of the enlisted men since I had arrived. I recognized too many faces on our sprint to freedom, faces frozen in death, twisted by pain and anger. So many people had already died. With a small gang of the undead still chasing us, I knew I didn’t have time to mourn these fallen heroes, but I made a mental note that if I made it out alive I would honor them. They deserved that mark of respect for all they had done, all they had given.

We were less than twenty feet from the buildings when I saw something moving in the shadows. My heart skipped a beat and I felt the familiar sour sensation rising up in my guts. We were racing as fast as we could go, straight into a zombie trap. A million horrible thoughts all went through my head at once. Maybe there was a swarm of them in there, faces peeled off, nothing but teeth and sharpened bones. Like insects working together they’d used their hive mind, their animal intelligence, to force us into a monstrous feeding pit. How many people were already dead in there, having been torn to bits by these disgusting monsters?

Rapidly I glanced around for a way out even as my legs carried us forward. I knew that if I tried to change course too suddenly, chances were I would trip and roll right into whatever demon was hiding in the shadows waiting for us. And even if I did make it, there was no way Benji would.

If I am going to die this way then I’ll clear a path for him, I thought as I gripped the handle of my sword tighter. It was the only answer that made sense. I raised the sword in front of me and let out a loud battle cry as I charged forward toward the terrible darkness that awaited us. Before I could cross the threshold, two teenage boys stepped out of the alley and faced us. It was the Parker twins, Joel and Tom. They were covered from head-to-toe in dried blood.

What is that in their hands? I thought as they raised their arms chest high and pointed black steel at us. Guns. I’d seen them before. Not just any guns—an MK-13 and a grenade launcher. I slowed down just enough to let Benji get in front of me and then tackled him to the ground with all my might, holding him down as he squirmed and fought. The grenade flew past us a split second later.

“Cover your ears!” I yelled.

Benji stopped fighting and stuffed his fingers deep into his ears as if they were foam plugs. I barely got mine in when the explosion went off. The ground we were sitting on rippled from the force of the fiery blast.

I looked back to see pieces of the foul zombies flying apart. The ones who had joined the chase were now down for the count, but our main attacker was still in hot pursuit. He was less than twenty feet away. We were screwed. With my sword over ten feet away, I didn’t stand a chance of retrieving it before he reached us. I was going to have to use hand-to-hand combat, knowing a single bite would transform me into one of them.

“Stay down!” Tom Parker yelled.

The next thing I knew a hail of bullets came ripping out of the MK-13, penetrating the soft flesh of the hell spawn and cutting him in half before our eyes. Strips of gray flesh, black muck, and oily red contaminated blood showered us. I did my best to cover Benji from the cascading flow of filth. It felt like the gunfire went on forever but in reality it was probably less than a minute.

Tom walked over to the bullet riddled zombie and kicked him over with his foot. Despite taking so much lead and being sawed in half, the thing was still moving its mouth, flexing its neck muscles as it lunged at Tom with its teeth.

“Suck on this,” Tom said, sticking the barrel of his automatic weapon into the creature’s snapping mouth and blowing its blackened brains all over the asphalt.

“Where the hell did you two come from?” I asked, sitting up and wiping the mess from my clothes the best I could.

So far as anyone knew, you couldn’t get infected with the zombie virus by coming into contact with their blood or guts. The disease was spread by being bitten, the saliva transmitting the virus directly to the blood stream. You could bathe in a pool of undead guts and not get it, not that anyone I knew wanted to test that theory. Nothing smells as bad as the living dead. Words just can’t begin to describe the disgusting stench.

“A simple thank you will suffice,” Tom said, extending his hand to help me up.

I took it and got to my feet. Joel had set down his grenade launcher and was turning my blade over in his hands, mesmerized by its perfection. It made me uncomfortable to see him with it. A katana is not a toy to be played with. It’s a delicate flower and a deadly instrument of justice. My blade was like my secret girlfriend and I didn’t appreciate him causally putting his paws all over her.

“Thanks,” I said, turning my back to him and walking over to Joel.

“Don’t mention it,” Tom said with a note of mild sarcasm.

“I believe that belongs to me,” I said, with just a hint of force in my voice. He looked up into my eyes.

“Right you are,” Joel said, immediately handing it over. Instantly I felt the muscles in my neck relaxing. “Just taking a look. No harm done.”

“How did you two survive?” Benji asked. I was glad for a reason to change the topic. “And where did you get those amazing guns?”

“We were in the mess hall when the order came to evacuate,” Joel said.

“We were way back in the kitchen, um, liberating some grub for those late night snacking fits,” Tom added, looking sheepish. “Our candy supplies were running dangerously low.”

“Right,” Joel said, taking back the conversation. “So we hear all this earsplitting screaming, chairs scraping, people stampeding out the door, just general mayhem. We pop our heads out just in time to see a soldier shut and lock the door.”

“Why would they take the time to lock the door?” The words were out of my mouth before I realized I was speaking.

“That’s exactly what we said when it happened,” Tom chimed in.

“So we creep up and take a peek out the window,” Joel said, taking back the narrative. “You gotta realize at this point we have no clue what’s going on. It could be a drill for all we know.”

“I was hoping we were being evacuated to new housing, to be honest,” Tom said. “There’s a big spot above my bed that I am pretty sure is the start of black mold.”

“It was unreal,” Joel said, waving his arms to make his point. “First I see all the people on the base running toward the old elementary school. There are flashes of green as the soldiers run behind them, forming something like a human shield. There’s a lot of screaming . . .”

“But it’s like someone screaming orders,” Tom interrupted.

“Exactly,” Joel said. “Then the screaming started getting louder and blending together more. That’s when we saw the first wave of zombies attack.”

“I didn’t know they could move that fast,” Tom said. “I’ve only ever seen them kinda moping along. Sure they’re lethal, because they don’t ever let up once they catch a whiff of you.”

“We never imagined they could move like that,” Joel said. “It must have been the extreme hunger or something.”

Get to the damn point, I thought. Just as I was getting ready to lose my patience, Benji prodded them for the rest of their long, drawn out tale.

“So how did you escape?”

“We cracked a window and slipped out,” Tom said. Joel shot him a look that seemed to say thanks for ruining the story.

“I’ve done some research,” Joel said. “Zombies are attracted to noise and movement.”

Everybody knows that, I thought, rolling my eyes and fighting back an exasperated sigh. Joel pretended not to notice.

“They were too busy going after the cluster of screaming adults and fighting soldiers to notice us. So we slowly walked over to where the fighting had started. There were three dead soldiers just ripped to shreds lying there.”

“It was ugly stuff, man,” Tom said, looking at the ground.

“That’s when we saw the second wave coming over the west wall,” Joel said dramatically.

“Zombies can’t climb walls, man,” I said.

“They didn’t have to climb it,” Joel countered. “They lined up against it and just pushed it over like a human tsunami. They climbed over the rubble. They were coming right for us.”

“What did you do?” Benji’s eyes were wide with fear and anticipation as he listened, totally absorbed in the twin’s story.

“We hid,” Tom said. “Under the bodies.”

“No way,” I blurted out.

“It’s true,” Joel said, not sounding so cocky anymore. “We didn’t have much of a choice, did we? The zombies were heading toward us so we got on the ground and pulled the dead bodies over us for cover, hoping it would distract them.”

“It did,” Tom said defiantly, puffing out his chest. “They went right past us and toward the fighting. I remember thinking I must have wet myself out of fear and not even known. Only when I got up I saw it wasn’t urine—it was blood coming out of the soldier I’d pulled over me, leaking out what was left in his body. It was still warm.”

“Soaked right through our clothes,” Joel said. “We grabbed these guns and broke out as fast as we could, using the buildings for cover.”

“Why did you follow them to the school?” I asked.

“I dunno,” Tom said. “I guess we just had to know what happened.”

“I kept wishing there was some way to stop them,” Joel said. “Instead, we were as helpless as babies and couldn’t do a damn thing.”

He looked upset with himself for not doing more to help. I understood the feeling. A wave of guilt crashed over me as I thought about all the people we’d left behind. I swallowed it back. There would be time for self-pity and wallowing later. For now, we needed to keep it together if we were gonna make it out of this alive.

“So you’ve never shot that thing until just now when we arrived?” I was having a hard time wrapping my head around it all. The MK-13 was a fierce piece of machinery. Tom had handled it like it was an Xbox 360 accessory.

“Our dad is a marine who saw action in Iraq,” Joel said proudly, the grin returning to his dirty face. “Between us, we’ve pretty much practiced shooting on every kind of automatic weapon imaginable.”

“Let’s just say we’ve had a colorful childhood,” Tom added.

“Where is your dad now?”

“We don’t really know,” Tom admitted. “He left us here right after Z-Day.”

“Haven’t seen him since.” Joel worriedly shrugged.

“Thank you for saving our lives,” Benji said with shiny eyes that fought back tears of gratitude.

“Yeah,” I added lamely, feeling like a moron. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Tom said with an easy smile.

“We were just working on a plan to leave when we saw you hauling ass this way,” Joel said. “I think we should give the kitchen another once over for supplies before heading out. Tom thinks it’s too risky.”

“Tom’s right,” I said. “It’s not safe to stay here with the horde on the loose. It’s just a matter of minutes until they eat their way through the school and start looking for fresh victims.”

“So you’ve got a better plan?” Joel gave me a menacing look.

Everyone got real quiet and looked at me. I felt my throat going dry but pushed through it.

“If we take the 1 south past the housing, we’ll literally walk right into town. I’m hoping we can grab an abandoned car along the way, maybe gas up in town, then head south to Hueneme. My brother is stationed there. He’ll know what to do.”

No one said a word. I felt my skin crawl as they stared at me. I didn’t know if they thought it was the most brilliant plan ever or the dumbest.

“You’re old enough to make your own decisions,” I stumbled on, trying to come off more casual than I really felt, “but we are heading south. You’re welcome to come with us.”

“What makes you think it’s any better down south?” Joel asked, fire still burning in his eyes. “How do you know we’ll be safe there?”

“I don’t,” I shrugged. “All I know is we can’t stay here anymore.”

Joel and Tom stared at each other a long time, as if they were communicating by telepathy. Tom nodded and Joel shook his head. Benji watched on, fascinated. They turned back to us at the same time.

“Okay,” they said in unison.

“Okay what?” I asked.

“We’ll go with you,” Joel said. “On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“You let us do the shooting,” Tom said gleefully.

“Fine by me. I’ve got a condition of my own.”

“Oh yeah?” Joel said. “What’s that?”

“The minute we find a place that’s stocked up and safe, you two shower and change into clean clothes,” I said, pointing at them with the end of my katana. “You look like something out of one of his more screwed up comic books.”

“I think they look kinda cool,” Benji said.

Tom smiled at him and messed his hair up.

“I knew you were gonna say that,” I replied, walking past them and through the field that led out to the blacktop.

Chapter Three

“Who would TiVo the Jersey Shore?” Benji had settled into the couch and was flipping through channels as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He had his dirty, crud-crusted Nike’s up on the table. Not one station was broadcasting, not even the armed service network emergency warning that used to go out on every channel, so he had switched over to recorded programs. He was scrolling through Nitro Circus, Wipeout, American Ninja, and Jackass.

“Someone who liked the show, I guess,” I shot back, trying to hide my annoyance.

The truth was, I just didn’t feel safe and I wanted to get moving as soon as we could. I peeked out the front window at the empty suburban street. There was no sign of the zombie horde. It was quiet—too quiet. The sun would be going down in just over an hour. I wanted to be sure we were on the road by then. Out there in the dark, the only thing worse than getting surrounded on foot by walking corpses would be getting trapped in a house with no escape.

I wish Moto was here, I thought. He would know exactly what to do. He always knows.

On our way down the street, we walked through a typical cluster of track homes. It was starting to get late and I didn’t think it was safe to stop, but Joel reminded me of my taunt for the twins to get cleaned up and I eventually relented.

Tom picked the house he liked best then we made a full sweep of it, coming up empty. The fridge was stocked to maximum capacity. The electricity was still on. The AC hummed. Everything was about as perfect as you could ask for until we reached the upstairs bedrooms.

The master bedroom was fine. Nothing under the bed. Nothing in the closets. Then we swung open the second bedroom door. With stuffed animals, nursery toys, a child’s bed, and a crib in the corner it was obviously the kid’s room. No big surprise there. What we hadn’t expected was all the blood. The whole room was covered in dried streaks of blood from floor to ceiling. It looked like something out of a Halloween horror house, like someone had taken buckets of blood and just flung them in every direction, painting everything.

There should be flies swarming all over this room, I thought, like in the Exorcist.

If a single window had been cracked, there would have been. My guess was that they kept the place air tight so they didn’t waste money on air conditioning. The air smelled like dull rust. I was surprised it didn’t smell like the zombies did, like death and decay.

We turned over every inch of the room but didn’t find any trace of body parts. No bones. No bloody weapons. No fingerprints or bloody smudges. Nothing that would tell us what nightmarish, unthinkable thing had happened in that place. There weren’t any signs of struggle or clean up going into or coming out of the room either. How it all happened remained a mystery to us. Nobody said a word. We backed out of the room and shut the door, lost in our own thoughts.

Joel and Tom raided the guy’s closet for clean clothes and stayed upstairs to shower. Benji and I set up shop downstairs, tearing into the soda and snacks to fuel up on carbs before our big walk south. We were supposed to keep watch and let them know if any zombies showed up so we could bolt over the back wall and down the street. They had already been showering over a half an hour. I knew they had at least a gallon of blood each poured over them, but it was starting to get ridiculous how long they were taking. This was the zombie apocalypse, not a damn fashion show. Who were they trying to impress?

If they don’t hurry up I might just grab Benji and go, I thought. I didn’t have anything against the Parker twins. Like I said, waiting there like that was making my skin crawl.

“Yeah but MTV plays the show over and over on a loop,” Benji protested, bringing me back to his present gripe about The Jersey Shore. “If you ever missed an episode all you have to do is just wait for it to start over.” He dug into the bag of Frito’s he’d salvaged from the kitchen, washing them down with an ice cold Mountain Dew. In the background,, Snooki fell off a bar stool and flashed her crotch to the camera.

I took a swig of Coke from the two liter I’d grabbed. We’d bagged up a bunch of non-perishables to take with us, just in case. I can’t tell you how happy I was that the previous tenant left two huge bags of high quality beef jerky. Light, easy to carry, tasty, and chock full of protein. The only downside was it made you thirsty as hell, but we’d cross that bridge when we came to it.

“Lucky for you that they liked it,” I said sarcastically.

“How can you not like Jersey Shore?” Benji turned to me, genuinely surprised. “It’s the most entertaining show I’ve ever seen. It’s like watching a train wreck in slow motion.”

I smirked to myself at his seriousness. Wonder if he knows the meaning of the cliché he just used, I thought. Everything seemed like the biggest deal on earth when you were twelve. Everything was new and exciting. A lot more of the buzz than I’d like to admit wore off each year. I was only sixteen and I had already learned that. Maybe that’s why people are so jaded, I thought. There’s nothing new when you get older. Just more of the same old crap being repackaged and shoveled down your throat with a shiny new bow on top.

“I don’t have anything against the show,” I said, feeling bad for disturbing what was probably the only relaxing moment he’d had in the last twenty-four hours. “I guess it’s just not my thing.”

“You’re not into reality shows?”

“I’ve seen my fair share,” I said. “Dancing contests and sing-off’s and dating shows. I guess I just prefer to spend my time reading or surfing the web over watching television.”

“What about Breaking Bad and Dexter?” Benji asked.

“Yeah, I’ve seen those.”

“Sons of Anarchy?”

“I was gonna get around to it,” I answered reluctantly.

“Oh man, you missed out! Too bad they didn’t TiVo that,” Benji said, slipping back into a false sense of security. “We’d have to camp out here until you’d seen them all. If Netflix was still working you’d have to drag me out of here kicking and screaming.”

“We’ll have to look into that at some point,” I said. “You know, when things slow down.”

I flashed a weak smile. Benji gave me a look that suggested I’d given him a satisfying answer and he turned back to the television. He switched shows to some guy doing a back flip on a motorcycle over a monster truck. It’s amazing how much comfort we all used to take in moving pictures. I’m not gonna lie. I loved television when I was younger, just like everyone else. Moto used to call it the “slave box” and make fun of my obsession for Saturday morning cartoons.

“You’ve got all the freedom in the world,” he would taunt. “No school, all your chores done, and instead of running wild and exploring the whole neighborhood you’re sitting in your footed jammies eating sugary cereal with your eyes glued to the screen while it kills the few brain cells you still have.”

I used to think he was so weird, but I soon chalked it up to him being raised in a foreign country. I didn’t know why he was giving me such a hard time. Japanese kids loved television even more than we did. Eventually he got under my skin and I bit the hook, letting him lure me in and feed me his philosophy. Less than a month later, he started my martial arts and weapons training. Given the circumstances, it turned out he did me the biggest favor of my life. If he hadn’t taught me all that stuff back then, I wouldn’t have made it through my first zombie night.

Loads of people didn’t. They saw the monsters coming but their brains couldn’t process what they were witnessing. They’d been taken care of their whole lives, protected from things like this by other people. I heard that tons of them just stood there blankly staring while the zombies knocked them over and ripped off their pound of flesh with their dull gray teeth.

Don’t think about it, I told myself. Stay focused on your goal. If you start thinking about it all now it will overwhelm you and weaken your will to survive. Your survival depends on your staying sharp. What did Moto teach you? Moto told me to stay put. There was more. Think! What did he say about being out in the open? Keep moving until you know you’re safe. Never let your guard down until you are absolutely sure you’re out of harm’s way. This isn’t a mistake you get to make twice.

I turned back and scoured the street for signs of life, coming up empty again.

“I think it’s time we get moving,” I nervously said. A voice behind me made me jump.

“Not thinking of leaving without us, are you?” I turned to see Tom’s smiling face.

He looked like a different person. He had on khaki’s and a navy blue polo shirt. Joel was behind him, not smiling, wearing practically the same thing in a darker shade of green. In fact, the only way to tell them apart was by their radical personality differences.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I said.

“Good,” retorted Joel, pushing past Tom and looking out the window. “I got an idea.”

“I’m all ears.”

Benji shut off the television and walked over to us carrying the bag of kitchen loot we’d snatched while the twins were cleaning up.

“One of these houses has a car in the garage,” Joel said. “I know it. I say we make a sweep and find which one it is then load the thing up and head out.”

“You know how to hot wire a car by any chance?” I asked.

“People left everything when they deserted this area,” Joel shot back. “They didn’t have time to turn off their sprinklers or shut off appliances they wouldn’t be using. That’s why we have this beautiful air conditioning right? So it stands to reason that if they left all their valuables, they also left a set of car keys.”

“I hate to argue with you . . .”

“Then don’t,” Joel interrupted, casting me an impatient look. I ignored him and continued on.

“. . . but I think the reason we’re not seeing cars on the street isn’t because the people who own them left ‘em in the garage. It’s because they used them to flee.”

Joel shook his head in disbelief. Tom looked down at the carpet. Benji awkwardly looked between Joel and me to see if we were going to escalate this argument into a full scale fight.

“The sun is setting soon and with a zombie horde just north of here, I’m not sure wasting more time is a good idea,” I said as softly as I could.

“Fifteen minutes of searching could save us a long and dangerous night walk,” Joel said. “Think about that.”

Everyone turned and stared at me. It felt weird to have so much pressure on me all of a sudden. That was the last thing I had wanted.

“Okay then,” I said, giving in and letting him have his way. There was no reason to keep having a power struggle. At the end of the day we wanted the same thing—to be safe and far, far away from that horde. “You lead the way.”

Joel nodded. A hint of a smile creased his face as he charged out the front door, leaving it wide open for us. Benji was last out and he shut it, mostly out of habit I think. We went door-to-door like super aggressive Jehovah’s Witnesses, yanking open garages only to find them empty. If we couldn’t get the garage open, we went through the house. If the house was locked, we broke a window. Just as I had expected, there wasn’t a car to be found. Joel’s earlier swagger seemed seriously diminished by our inability to lay hands on a functioning vehicle. At one point we were all excited to find an old Mustang, only to have our hopes dashed when it didn’t have an engine. With one house left at the end of the block, the odds were looking pretty slim on locating transportation.

“You wanna do the honors?” I asked, trying hard not to gloat.

“Naw,” Joel said in a defeated, but much more congenial, tone. “The kid can take this one.”

Benji looked glad to get a chance to participate. The only thing we’d let him do on our search so far was climb through a window to unlock a sliding door. He ran up the driveway and began trying to pull the heavy door up. It didn’t look like he was making much progress but then he gave it a hard shove, getting the door over his shoulder and forcing it up.

“Guys! Hurry! Come quick!” Benji huffed, out of breath and sounding like Sean Astin without his inhaler in the Goonies.

We all turned and ran up, expecting to find a brand new SUV or maybe a stash of weapons. Instead we found a tiny looking kid, Samuel Thorn, curled up asleep in a pile of candy wrappers. My only guess as to why he hadn’t heard the door open was that he had passed out from exhaustion. Tom nudged him with his foot and the little guy sat up straight and screamed at the top of his lungs like a cornered raccoon. He pulled a dull steak knife from his waistband and waved it at us.

“Stay away!” Sam threatened.

“That supposed to ward off the undead?” Tom taunted him.

“Who are you people and what do you want?”

“It’s me, Sam,” Benji said stepping forward and pushing the knife aside. “It’s Benji. Remember me? We used to trade comics back on the base.”

“What are you doing here?” I didn’t want to sound rude but we didn’t have all night to sit around while the kid figured it out.

“I’m hiding from zombies,” he said.

“Perfect,” Joel said. “That’s exactly the answer we were looking for. Bravo.” Obviously he was as frustrated by this kid as I was.

“But how did you get here?” Benji patiently asked.

“I was in the school when they swarmed in. I ran down the long hallway to the back.”

“That’s a dead end,” I shot back. “How did you get out?”

“You know the large oak tree in the yard? I climbed up to get away from the fighting. From there I managed to get on the roof and jump the back wall.”

“Pretty resourceful little guy, aren’t you?” Tom said.

“I didn’t know where to go, but then I found these houses,” Sam said. “They’re just like my neighborhood back home in Sacramento. I didn’t even know any of this was here. And I sure didn’t realize how tired I was. I guess I just fell asleep.”

“Looks like you did more than sleep,” Joel said, kicking the empty candy wrappers. “Think you got enough sugar in your system?”

“Enough for what?” Sam looked confused as he turned back and forth from me to Joel.

“A long night’s walk,” I said, putting my hand on Joel’s shoulder to console him.

Chapter Four

The sun set even faster than I expected. By the time we’d left suburbia, there were only faint traces of light left in the sky. Once we got down the road from the track homes, the landscape changed pretty dramatically just within minutes. Unruly weeds and brittle-looking scrub bushes covered the sides of the highway. All we could see were small, grass covered hills and patches of dry looking trees in every direction. Within half an hour of walking it felt like we were in the middle of nowhere. We could have been in a foreign country for all we knew. If we hadn’t stuck to the road I would have been truly freaked over getting lost or being attacked by a wild animal—or worse.

We passed around the bag of goodies we’d grabbed at the house and soon the only sound was the crinkling of wrappers and the crunch of loose gravel between our shoes and the asphalt. I was glad to finally tear into that beef jerky. It was salty and sweet and spicy and surprisingly tender. I chewed it with great relish, enjoying every second of it. It lived up to every expectation I’d conjured up. It was filling, unlike the candy bars we’d grabbed which were mostly just sugar. I tucked away a Snickers bar for when I got tired later and needed the extra boost.

We naturally fell into two groups without really thinking about it. Benji and I walked a little farther ahead of the pack while the twins kept pace with Samuel and tried to keep him moving along. I could tell Joel was frustrated but didn’t want to leave his brother’s side, while Tom had just the right disposition to keep the little guy motivated.

“I’m tired,” Sam whined.

“We just gotta keep moving,” Tom replied.

“But my feet hurt,” Sam groaned, letting out a loud sigh.

Joel fought back a growl of disapproval. He was more like me than I’d realized—which was probably why I felt threatened by him in the first place.

“That’s nothing compared to what it will feel like when a wild pack of zombies rips you to shreds,” I muttered under my breath, picking up my pace to try to distance myself from the annoying conversation behind me. Benji shot me a sympathetic glance.

I wasn’t cut out to be a leader. Plain and simple. I didn’t mind taking care of Benji because he never complained. He did what you asked and was always happy and grateful, always trying to make the best out of this insane situation.

“Try not to focus on them,” I heard Tom say as Benji and I power walked farther out in front of them. “Maybe think about something that makes you happy for a bit. That always helps.”

Benji must have heard Tom’s advice and taken it to heart.

“It sure was great to be able to watch television again,” Benji said shortly after. “Sitting there in that living room on a comfortable sofa, feeling the cool air on my skin and flipping through shows was like a small slice of heaven. It was like coming home after school before my parents got home and having the run of the place, like the way things used to be.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think there might be a time in the future when all of this is behind us?”

“You mean the zombies?”

“Yes.”

“Definitely,” I answered. “It’s just a matter of time until our military forces eradicate all the infected. All we have to do is survive until then.”

Easier said than done, I thought.

“Sometimes I feel like it will never end,” Benji said honestly.

“It just feels that way. It will end. You’ll see.”

“How long do you think that’s gonna take?”

“It’s hard to say.” I shrugged. I think it was the first time I had admitted the truth to myself. “This thing is way more out of control than I ever imagined it would be. Then again, we might be closer than we think. It all depends on what the military has been able to accomplish. We have no way of knowing what they’re working on, what their ultimate strategy is.”

“Do you think it’s gonna be months or even years until they have it under control?”

“Without radio or television news reports, it’s all kind of a guessing game,” I said. “Then again for all we know, we could wake up tomorrow and everything could be back to normal.”

“Man I hope that happens.” Benji gave a little laugh. “I’d love to go home. I never knew how much I could miss it.”

I liked the way a little bit of hope had lifted his spirits, so I pressed on. “They’re probably using all their energy to reclaim the cities.”

“You think so?”

“Sure,” I offered. “It’s what I would do. Secure the bases then start spreading out slowly and taking back the land. The cities already have everything they need to support a population. There is food, shelter, water, the means to create electricity. The way I see it, all they have to do is quarantine off a major city then slowly move in, wiping out the biters as they go. Then they set up a detail to guard the perimeter and move on to the next city.”

“That makes sense,” Benji said. There was a noticeable skip in his step now.

“Eventually the only zombies left will be out in the wild.”

He shot me a worried glance and I realized what I had said. We were out in the wild! My mind made the same connection his had just made. What if a horde of zombies was being flushed our way from Lompoc right now?

Smooth move, I thought. Say something quick to make him feel better.

“I’m pretty sure we’re alone out here, so don’t freak out and let your imagination get the best of you.”

Benji didn’t say anything. He just nodded and gulped. We walked along in silence for what felt like over an hour before he spoke again.

“So what’s the deal with your brother?”

I was glad to have a reason to speak again.

“He’s a corporal in the marines,” I said proudly.

“So why didn’t he stay with you at Vandenberg?”

“He’s got too much work to do to stay in one place. Since Z-Day hit, he’s been called to service up and down the coast.”

“And he’s in Hueneme now?”

“That’s right. Like most military bases that are still active, they’ve combined all the different armed forces into one cohesive unit down there. He told me he was working on something big. Something that could change the course of this fight. Maybe end it all together.”

“So why didn’t he take you with him?” It was an innocent enough question. Benji hadn’t said it with any malice in his voice, yet it felt like someone had socked me hard right in the gut when I heard it. He had a good point. I didn’t know for sure why Moto hadn’t taken me. There was a part of me that did feel abandoned. I’d trained hard, always done exactly what he said, but he still left me behind with the rest of the kids when they called him down. Didn’t he realize I wasn’t a child anymore? When was he going to stop treating me like one?

“He was coming back for me,” I said, my voice cracking, “once he got things set up.”

“Oh.” Benji looked sorry he’d brought it up.

“He was just getting settled in. That’s all.”

“Right.”

“Then once he had things under control he was going to set me up on the base,” I said. “Until then he wanted to make sure I was safe.”

“Well that worked out just great, didn’t it?” I heard Joel say mockingly.

I jerked around to see the Parker twins and Sam staring at me. I hadn’t realized they had caught up to us. My face burned with embarrassment.

“You don’t know anything about it,” I shot back self-consciously.

“How do you figure?” Joel yelled back.

“Guys,” said Benji.

“You don’t know the first thing about my brother.”

“I know he didn’t come back to save you when that horde of flesh eating demons overran the base,” Joel spat.

“Yeah? And neither did your father!” I angrily shouted.

Fire flashed in Joel’s eyes. I was instantly sorry I had said it, but not because I was afraid of Joel. It was a cheap shot and I knew it. We were all hurting. We were all scared. And now we were turning on each other like feral animals. Still I knew I couldn’t back down an inch. If I didn’t stay on top of Joel he would wrestle control of the group away from me. I wasn’t about to let that happen. I needed to keep us on course.

“Take it back,” Joel retorted in a low, threatening voice.

“Make me!” I said, my fists bunching up defensively.

“Guys!” Benji shouted again.

“What?” I said, turning to face him.

Joel was on me before I had time to register what was happening. I didn’t think he had it in him. I was so used to most of the people at the base respecting my reputation as a fighter and staying clear of me. He knocked me off my feet and we rolled on the ground. He got in a quick punch to the right side of my head and then I blocked the next. I flipped him over and slapped him hard across the face. I pinned him to the ground as he fought to get up and a stream of curse words came out of him like he was possessed.

“Guys!” Benji shouted a third time, trying to get our attention. “Listen!”

Everyone stopped moving and listened. Off in the distance there was a loud rumbling sound that filled the pit of my stomach with churning fear.

Please don’t let that be a zombie horde, I thought.

“What is that?” Joel asked. All the fight had left him. I got up and helped him to his feet. He jumped back away from me and dusted himself off.

“Quiet,” Benji admonished.

The unexplained noise grew louder and louder. The closer it got, the more it sounded like some kind of big machine and less like the undead.

“Look,” Sam shouted, pointing back in the direction we’d come from.

We all turned at once and stared in astonishment as a black military helicopter shot up over the ridge and passed over the top of us. It was so loud we couldn’t hear anything else, but Joel and Tom waved their arms and yelled anyway. The helicopter was gone just as quickly as it had come, leaving us alone with our desperate thoughts.

“That’s a good sign,” I said.

“How do you figure?” Joel asked.

“Yeah, man, they left us out here,” Tom loudly complained.

“It means we’re still in control,” I said confidently. “We’ve still got equipment and we’re still fighting.”

“Unless those were zombies,” Sam said.

Everyone laughed at him.

“What?” He tried to cover up his embarrassment.

“Last time I checked, zoms can’t fly helicopters,” Tom said. “I think we’re good.”

“Oh,” muttered Sam.

“Can you even begin to imagine how screwed we’d all be if that were the case?” Benji patted Sam on the shoulder and walked to my side.

Joel gave me a guarded look and I turned and walked on. Neither of us spoke about our scuffle but I knew I didn’t plan on letting my guard down around him any time soon. He was faster than I had thought he would be. Sooner or later we were going to butt heads again. It was just a matter of time. I was seriously hoping we could go our separate ways once we got into the city. After all, there was no reason for him to follow us all the way to Hueneme. And he had Tom to keep him company.

The first chance I get, I’ve got to ditch him, I thought. The sooner the better.

We came to a fork in the road where the freeway became an overpass as it intersected another highway. A curl of fog wrapped over the bank, giving it an eerie feeling. There was something in the way up ahead, something big and still. It was way too large to be a zombie, but even from a distance I got the feeling it wasn’t going to be good.

“What is it?” Benji whispered.

“Only one way to find out,” I replied.

I unsheathed my sword and carefully sauntered forward. Joel followed close behind me, then Tom, Benji, and last, Sam. There was an orange street lamp overhead illuminating the object. The fog drifted away by the time I was ten feet from it to reveal a large deer laying on its side with its throat ripped out. Dark blood pooled onto the ground around it. Foot prints dragging through the blood led away into the dust on the side of the road.

“What did this to it?” Benji looked stumped.

“From the looks of those foot prints I’d say it was a zombie,” I suggested.

“Nonsense,” Joel chimed in. “There is no way a deer would let one of those undead things get this close to it, let alone stand there while it tore its throat out.”

“It doesn’t make any sense, man,” Tom agreed, obviously trying to diffuse the tension between us.

“Maybe it was wounded,” I said.

“Or sleeping,” Benji added.

“It’s a mystery,” Tom agreed.

“First the helicopter and now this,” Joel said, sounding exasperated. “What’s next?”

Almost as if on cue, Sam let out a blood curdling scream that ripped through the night. We turned and saw that something had attached itself to his leg. It was a zombie that had been cut in half, a crawler. It had snuck up over the side of the embankment and taken him by surprise, wrapping its arms around Sam’s tiny limb and pulling itself in for a bite. It all happened so fast there was nothing we could do. Sam wailed in pain like a siren.

Joel lunged toward him and kicked the twisted corpse off with his combat boot. It rolled helplessly on its back, trying to flip itself over. Blood covered its dark mouth as broken teeth snapped at the air like some kind of swamp creature straining for its last meal.

“It’s getting back up,” Tom yelled, shaking me out of my state of shock.

As quickly as I could, I ran over and cut its head off, separating the brain stem from the body. Instantly it went still, like a deadly toy with its battery removed. Sam fell on the ground and began examining his bite mark with shaking hands. We all gathered around him.

“That thing came out of nowhere,” Benji said.

“Let’s have a look at that wound,” Joel said.

Sam had been pulling the skin to show the blood oozing out. He moved quickly to cover it up. “It’s not that bad,” he said.

“Does it hurt?” Tom asked.

“It stings a little bit. But I’ll be fine.”

For a kid who was crying about his feet being sore, he sure got tough all of a sudden, I thought.

The truth was that he wasn’t going to be fine. He was infected and there was nothing in the world we could do about it. Every second that past brought him closer to his fate of transforming into a mindless killing machine with an insatiable appetite for living flesh.

No one said anything for a long time. We just exchanged looks and stood around Sam while he stared down at the concrete not blinking. It had to be setting in, what the bite meant. His life was over now. Nothing could bring it back. Ten minutes ago he had a future. Now all that existed were his last few moments.

Benji leaned down and hugged him and Tom sat by his other side. Joel gave me a glance that told me to meet him a little ways over toward the deer. We both quietly walked away and stood looking at the dead animal, not making eye contact.

“What do you think we should do?” Joel fidgeted.

“What can we do?” I asked. “He’s a goner for sure.”

“Yeah. That thing got a good chunk of him.”

“The virus is definitely in there. No doubt about it.” I turned and spit over the side of the bridge.

“How long do you think it’s gonna take him to turn?”

“Hard to say.” I looked back at Sam to see if he was watching us. He hadn’t lifted his head. Benji was cooing words of encouragement in his ear. “From what I’ve seen, when someone gets bit good and deep like that it doesn’t take long for them to go full zom. Especially someone that small.”

“Yeah.” Joel absentmindedly tapped the deer carcass with his boot. “I’ve noticed that too. So what do you think we should do with him?”

“I hate to say this,” I started, “but there is no way we can take him with us now.”

“No argument there,” Joel said sternly.

“I hate to leave him out here. I’m not sure we have a choice now.”

“He’s gonna become one of those things soon,” Joel said in a gentle tone. “When he does, he will be a danger to all of us. Plain and simple.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Joel looked up into my eyes. “The only humane thing to do is to kill him.”

He’s right, a little voice in my head told me, even as I shook my head no.

“But he’s just a kid,” I feebly protested, “a small, helpless kid.”

Joel looked sympathetic as I struggled with it. “He won’t be for long. Think about it.”

“No,” I said in total shock, and yet it made sense what Joel was saying. Soon Sam would not only be a tiny, out-of-control monster but also a threat to each of us. “He’s terrified. Look at him! We can’t do that to him.”

“We have no way of knowing what happens after someone turns,” Joel argued. “We don’t know if they die right away or if they are, you know, trapped in there, seeing everything they are doing but unable to control it. By not killing him we could be condemning him to a living hell beyond anything you or I ever imagined.”

“So we just shoot him in the face and move on?” My voice cracked. “Would you do that to me if I was bitten? Or Benji?”

“If that’s what it came down to, I would.”

I’ll bet, I thought. He’s probably wishing it was me that got bit in the first place so he could get me out of the way.

“What if it was Tom?” I asked. Joel hesitated. I’d hit a nerve. “Would you be willing to casually blow your twin brother’s head off because he was going to turn into a zombie?”

Good, I thought. He does have some kind of moral center after all.

“If it came down to that,” he said, but it was clear the wind had gone out of his sails. He couldn’t even look me in the eye anymore.

“Let’s hope it never does,” I said, turning and walking back over to Sam.

“We about ready to get going?” Sam asked, trying to sound calm. “I think I can walk on it as long as I don’t put any pressure on it. Maybe I can get a tree branch and make some crutches out of it.”

“You can’t come with us anymore, Sam,” I said. The others looked away as I spoke.

Sam looked crestfallen. “I’ll be okay,” he said, trying to change my mind. “It’s not that bad.”

“I’m so sorry buddy,” I offered, leaning down and looking him in the eyes. Tears burst out and drooled down his face. “We can’t take that risk. I wish there was another way, but there just isn’t.”

“You can’t just leave me out here in the middle of nowhere all alone.”

“I’m fairly certain you wouldn’t appreciate the other suggestions floated for how to deal with this situation,” I said.

Sam’s young eyes filled with fear as the meaning of my statement settled over him in a chilling moment of realization. His eyes flashed from Joel to the gun he was carrying then back to me.

“Please don’t kill me,” he begged as a fresh round of tears burst out of him. It was taking everything I had in me not to lose it. A tiny spark of anger at Joel rose up in me but I held it in check.

“No one is going to kill you,” I promised.

“What am I supposed to do? Sit out here and wait to die?” Sam wailed and Benji put a hand on his shoulder, comforting him.

“Listen, little man,” I said, “this is what you’re going to do. You’re going to turn around and follow the road all the way back to that set of abandoned houses where we first found you. Got it?”

Sam didn’t answer. He just nodded. I wasn’t sure he entirely believed us. I glanced at Joel and burning hatred filled my guts. It was wrong to scare this poor kid in his final moments.

“Don’t stop walking until you get back,” I said, reaching into my pocket and handing over my emergency Snickers bar. “Pick a house you like, maybe something with a pool, and lock yourself in. Once we find help in Lompoc we’ll come back for you.”

“How will you know which house I’m in?”

“We’ll search all of them until we find you,” Tom said softly.

“What if I get attacked on my way back? I don’t have a weapon to fight off the zombies.”

“We can’t leave him a weapon,” Joel said. “It’s a waste. Chances are we’re going to need it far more than he is. By the time the sun comes up he won’t even know who he is!”

Sam looked down, afraid to make eye contact with him. The rest of the group shot Joel dirty looks that shut him up.

Tom handed over his grenade launcher. “Here. Take this. It’s only got one good shot left, but it’s heavy enough to swing around and use as a club if you get jumped.”

“You’re going to be all right,” Benji said.

“He’s right,” I lied. “There is less chance of being attacked during the night so you’d better hurry. You’re going to want to get back before the sun comes up.”

“Okay,” Sam said, standing up with his new gun. He wiped his tears on the back of his hand.

“Good luck,” Tom offered.

“See you later,” Benji said sadly.

“Pick a good house,” Tom added with a brave smile.

“We’ll be back before you know it,” I encouraged.

Joel looked away but the rest of us watched as the young boy limped off along the road in the direction we’d just come from, the direction we’d been fleeing due to a wild zombie horde. When we could no longer see him, we turned and continued on down the highway, the weight of everything that had happened making my feet feel like two blocks of heavy lead.

Chapter Five

We’d been walking in the pitch black for less than an hour when we saw headlights approaching in the distance. The sound of the truck buzzing along toward us reached us after we spotted what looked like an insect glowing in the darkness. I was starting to feel delirious after all the walking. It was the dead of night, the air was biting cold, and we’d been walking so long my feet were going numb. I was totally wiped out. A quick glance around showed me that the others were pretty much in the same state I was. The incident with Sam hadn’t helped with morale either. Aside from the savage hunger and rotting skin, we weren’t all that much different at that point than the creatures we were fleeing. It took a moment for it to sink in, but when it finally did I stopped dead in my tracks and just watched the truck heading our way.

“That thing is headed right for us,” I mused.

“Thank God,” Joel coughed. “I’m walking along like one of the zombies at this point. I feel dead on my feet.”

“Careful,” I cautioned. “We wouldn’t want to have to shoot you.”

He blasted a nasty look in my direction and I immediately returned his glare.

“Guys,” Benji said, his voice weary and filled with dread. “What do we do?”

“What do you mean?” Joel wheeled around on him. “We flag him down and ask for a ride, obviously.”

“Benji’s got a point,” I said. “How do we know he’s friendly?”

“Now just what is that supposed to mean?” Joel asked, the anger rising up in his voice.

“We’re not on the base anymore,” I continued. “Everyone we meet isn’t just going to be nice and want to help us. It’s a lawless zone out here. We have no way of knowing how the driver of that truck is going to react to us. Plus they’re heading in the wrong direction, straight toward a zombie horde.”

“All the more reason we should wave them over and warn them,” Tom interjected, looking over to Joel who gave him a nod of solidarity.

“What if we take cover for now until we see what the driver looks like?” Benji offered. “If we feel safe once we’ve gotten a decent look at the truck, we can make our presence known and try to flag him down. If not, we haven’t given ourselves away.”

“Now that is good advice,” I said. “Anyone have a better idea?”

I could see that Joel didn’t but he still wanted to argue. After what happened with Sam I wasn’t able to hide my disgust for him. As far as I was concerned, Joel was a bigger threat to our safety than any zombie ever would be. Zombies weren’t accountable for their actions. They were victims just like the rest of us. Joel, on the other hand, was a bloodthirsty killer just waiting for an excuse to execute one of us. I felt like a monster for even thinking of hurting Sam. Joel had been ready to pull the trigger himself! If I hadn’t been there to stop him he’d have walked the poor little guy off into the bushes like an old dog and shot him in the back of the head. The thought of it made ice flood through my veins, hardening my heart further against him.

“Fine,” Joel said, relenting at last. He was trying his best to maintain the illusion that he was in some sort of control, but he was failing miserably.

We scurried off the road and into a cluster of bushes to wait. The sound of the truck grew closer and I grew more and more impatient. Hunger was starting to make me edgy. I wasn’t sorry I’d given away my emergency candy bar as a last meal to a sad kid, but I sure wished I had another one. I continued to think about Sam despite the fact it was the last thing in the world I wanted to be pondering.

The mind has a way of playing tricks on you when you’re tired. What if these people came across him walking back to Vandenberg and discovered that he had been bitten? Who knows what they would do? They might very well have the same reaction that Joel did. Then again, what if Sam hid his bite wound out of fear and got into the truck with them? They might be carrying the disease back to an area they thought was safe and spreading it. Under those circumstances, Joel would have been right to want to kill Sam. There was no way I was going to ever admit that out loud though. I couldn’t and still live with myself.

“Looks like a white Nissan with a bearded man driving,” Tom whispered.

“What are those marks on the side of the truck?” Benji asked.

“They look like bullet holes to me,” Tom said.

“That’s because they are,” Joel confirmed. “There are also two armed men standing in the back with some kind of rifles.”

“What does that mean?” Benji prodded.

“It means Xander was right to tell us to lay low,” Joel admitted, sounding unhappy about having to give me credit for anything. “Could be a militia or a roaming band of thugs looking for trouble to get into. I say we wait for them to pass, then move on along down the highway until we get to town.”

The truck was getting closer. Soon it would pass us and then, if it kept heading north, it would run into Sam—who by this point had probably sat down and gone into shock from his wound.

Zombie bite victims reported feeling disoriented after they’re infected. This was according to early news reports from back before anyone knew it was going to be an epidemic. Their bodies shut down as a terrible fever overcomes them, just like people infected with HIV. It’s the body’s way of trying to fight off the virus. It doesn’t work and it leaves the victim totally incapacitated. Sometimes, from what I’ve heard, they then experience organ failure. Within a few hours they lose the ability to think clearly; they can’t communicate and then become agitated. At that point they aren’t fully people anymore, but they aren’t quite zombies yet either.

The first victims had no way of knowing what was happening to them. Poor Sam does. He’d know the whole way through what was happening to him. I couldn’t begin to imagine that kind of fear.

Without thinking, I stood up and stared at the truck.

“What are you doing?” Joel demanded. “Get back down, you moron!”

Joel grabbed at my jeans, trying to yank me back down, but I pulled away from him and walked out into the middle of the road. The truck was barreling toward me. At first, I wasn’t sure it was going to stop.

Great, I thought as the front bumper of the truck drew closer to my kneecaps. I’ve survived the end of the world only to die by being run over.

“What the hell!” I heard a man’s voice yell.

The tires squealed as the truck came to a screeching halt less than ten feet from me. White smoke rose up and the smell of burning rubber filled the air. The two men in back had their faces covered. They were standing in the bed of the truck and pointed their weapons at me.

“Don’t shoot!” I hollered. “We just need a ride.”

The driver of the truck opened the door and stepped out.

“John?” One of the shooters cautioned him.

“It’s all right,” John said. “Just keep him covered for now.”

He turned his attention to me. “Where did you come from?”

“Military base up north,” I said, keeping my hands up. “We were overrun by a zombie horde.”

“There is no such thing as a zombie horde,” John replied matter-of-factly. “Zoms can’t barely think for themselves. They’re driven by hunger, like mindless insects. They are drawn to the living by sight and smell. Period. They don’t communicate with other zombies and they don’t work together.”

“That’s what we thought too,” I said, trying not to tremble. I couldn’t tell if it was the cold or the fear getting to me. “Until they knocked down the walls at Vandenberg and killed everyone we knew.”

“Vandenberg’s been taken out? Jesus.”

“They were definitely working together,” I added, feeling a little more confident. “Like they had some kind of hive mind.”

“How’d you get down this way?” John asked, ignoring my suggestion.

“We walked,” I replied.

“There are more of you?” John looked around nervously for an ambush. His guards did the same. “Come on out. Show yourselves.”

Slowly Benji, Tom, and Joel stood up.

“Get your hands up where we can see them!” The guards swung around and trained their guns on the group in the bushes. Joel gave me an angry look.

“They’re just little kids,” one of the men shouted to the leader, who acted like he didn’t hear him.

“Is that all of you?” John shouted.

“Yes it is,” I said, shooting a threatening look at the rest of the group to keep their mouths shut about Sam.

“Get on out here,” John ordered.

Cautiously the group walked over and joined me in front of the truck’s headlights.

“Now,” John said, seeming calmer, “where are you headed?”

“Lompoc,” I said. “Then farther down south toward the coast.”

John laughed and shook his head.

“It’s a good thing we found you,” he said. “You’d never make it into the city without an armed escort.”

“What do you mean?” Joel asked.

“Lompoc is a war zone now,” John said, spitting on the ground.

“You mean zombies?” Benji asked sheepishly.

“Yeah,” John said, “sure. We still got those. Plus there is the damn Unity Gang to worry about now.”

“What is the Unity Gang?” Tom asked innocently.

“Hell on earth, son,” John said causally. “It’s a collection of bikers and rival gangs that got together after Z-Day to wreak havoc on the last of the living.”

“You mean like a pack of outlaws?” Joel asked.

“Exactly,” John responded. “Like a mega gang. They got a little bit of everything. Crips. Bloods. Latin Thugs. Hell’s Angels. You name it. If the damned zombies don’t get you, the Unity Gang will. All they live for is to rape, kill, and pillage. They do murder just for sport. That’s why we can’t never be too careful.”

“That sounds terrible,” Benji said with a visible shudder.

“You got that right,” John agreed. “A lot of good citizens just barricaded themselves in after the zombies started eating people. Not the Unity Gang. They preyed on the weak, using the natural goodness of people and their basic human decency against them, tricking them into opening up their doors so they could bring helter skelter down on ‘em.”

This is the last thing we need, I thought. More complications.

I wondered if we would be able to talk John into giving us a car with some gas and getting us on our way.

“Most folks were too scared to do anything about it. They sat back and watched as these animals took advantage of their neighbors, praying it wouldn’t be them next. It’s enough to make a good man sick to his stomach.”

“So you armed yourselves and took a stand against them?” Joel asked.

John smiled at him. He obviously liked the way Joel thought.

“You bet we did,” John said. “We took back a bunch of neighborhoods from the dead and the damned, making a safe zone. We got food, water, electricity, indoor plumbing. It’s almost like it used to be. We make sweeps outside the city looking for survivors and supplies when we’re not on duty.”

“You got clean beds?” Joel asked, sounding more and more comfortable with the situation despite the fact we still had guns trained on us. “We’re exhausted and could use a good night’s sleep.”

“Sure.” John shrugged. “We’ll be glad to give you a ride and get you all set up, just as soon as you strip down and let us examine you for bite marks.”

I swallowed hard, thinking about Sam. Right then and there I knew I’d done the right thing. Benji gave me a look that said he understood why I’d marched out into the middle of the road.

“Is that a problem, gentlemen?” John asked, noticing Benji and me.

“Not at all,” Joel crowed, stripping down to his underwear like it was a hot summer day and he was about to plunge into a cool lake. He nodded to Tom who followed his lead. Benji and I did the same.

John signaled for one of the guys in the back of the truck. He came over with a flashlight held in his teeth so he could hold onto his weapon. It reminded me of something from the show Cops. He gave us a good onceover, then nodded to John.

“Well then,” John said. “Looks like this lot is cleared for takeoff. Hop in the back and keep your heads down. Today’s forecast calls for lead showers and a hail of bullets.”

We dressed quickly and did as we were told. John got back in and turned the truck around, driving us back toward the city again. Deep down inside, I knew none of it mattered. Sam was dead no matter what I did. Giving him his last few human moments without added fear of being cut in half by an automatic weapon wasn’t going to change his fate. Still a small part of me felt better, like I had done something good and made a difference—even though I hadn’t, not really. I didn’t know if it was the sound of the wind rushing by, drowning out everything but the hum of the engine, or just the fact that I was exhausted—but against all odds I slipped down in the bed of the truck and fell asleep.

Chapter Six

I was in the darkness, surrounded by hissing demons. I could smell them, but not see them. I could feel the dread they inspired, an irrational fear that climbed up inside of me and grew like a weed until it overwhelmed me. I was afraid to move, afraid I’d give them a direction to lunge toward. But I was also afraid not to move, knowing that if I didn’t do something to get away they would eventually find me.

Zombies don’t sleep. They don’t get tired. They just keep coming until they get you. You cannot reason with them. You can’t plead with them. All you can do is run.

My legs felt like they were made out of lead. I could feel the sweat trickling down my back. I could hear my own shallow breathing, but it sounded like it was coming from somewhere else outside of me.

Something slithered through the darkness like a snake, only bigger and heavier. Every muscle in my body tensed up as I prepared for an attack of some kind. I felt a hand wrap itself around my right ankle, like an iron shackle, cold and hard. Electricity shot through me as a wave of panic crashed over me. Another hand wrapped around my calf, cold and unyielding, while the noise of a large creature dragging itself toward me intensified. The scraping across the ground sounded like mountains of sandpaper scratching inside my mind.

Searing pain shot through me and I screamed as the zombie bit deep into the back of my leg. It was a crawler. I looked down to see tiny little zombie Sam staring up at me, blood pouring out of his mouth from the wound he’d just left in my leg. He was still in one piece but his legs didn’t seem to be working. He hissed at me and stared with dead eyes, like a large snake.

Looking up, I saw zombies coming out of the dark mist on all sides. I was surrounded completely. There was no way out! I looked back down just in time to see Sam biting back into my leg. I screamed as loud as I could, filling my lungs with air several times in a row and yelling some more until I was hoarse. This was it for me. I was a goner now. They were going to tear me to shreds and there was nothing I could do about it!

I shot up, panting and sweating. I was in a soft bed under covers. There was a poster of Felicity James, the child celebrity turned reality star, staring down at me from above the bed. Before Z-Day I used to think about her all the time, but having the dead reanimate and try to kill you tends to change your priorities.

Where am I?

For a minute I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten there. I pulled back the covers to examine my leg. It was fine. I noticed a scratchy tag had been scraping me in the same place I’d been bitten in my nightmare.

Am I dead? I thought. Or better yet, maybe all this zombie stuff was just a bad dream. But this isn’t my room. Where am I?

I got up and looked out the window, surprised for a moment to realize I was dressed in pajamas. Pieces of the previous night were coming back to me: the walk, the guns, and getting in the back of the truck. I pulled the shades to reveal a suburban neighborhood. Bright sun beamed down on rows of identical homes with well-manicured lawns. Armed guards in khaki uniforms roamed the streets. They were the only indication that anything was off and not like it used to be before Z-Day.

Where’s my sword? Panic shot through me. I didn’t like being unarmed. One thing I’d learned since the end of the world was that it was better to have a weapon and not need one than need one and not have it. Moto said that’s an old cliché, but to be honest I didn’t recall ever hearing it before things went bad. Maybe it’s just universal wisdom. Who’s to say what’s old and what’s new now that the world as we know it was over?

I scoured the room for my katana but came up short in my search. I did find my clothes at the foot of the bed. Someone had washed them, folded them, then set them in a neat pile for me. They were still warm to the touch. They smelled like fabric softener.

Maybe it was the same person who changed you into pajamas while you were sleeping, I thought. At least they hadn’t changed my underwear. It was unnerving to think I had been so exhausted that I slept right through it. I didn’t like being at the mercy of other people, much less being completely helpless in front of total strangers.

You need to pull it together. Remember your training.

Cautiously, I cracked open the door and looked out. I could hear people walking around downstairs, glasses clinking, women laughing. Then it hit me full in the face—the smell of someone cooking breakfast. It was like a dream come true. I opened the door and walked out: down the steps, past the living room and into the kitchen. A large, older woman in an apron was cooking scrambled eggs in a cast iron skillet. On the table was orange juice, milk, a pile of buttered toast, and a plate overflowing with bacon. I could feel myself salivating and my stomach gave a loud rumble in response. The woman turned to me and smiled.

“Good morning, sleepy head,” she said in a chipper tone. “Glad to see you’re up.”

“Where am I?”

“You’re in the safe zone in New Lompoc. You were out cold when the men got back last night. At first I was afraid of waking you up. By the time I got you changed and into bed I realized that wasn’t going to be a problem.”

So she was the one who put me in these pajamas, I thought. I was grateful it hadn’t been one of the guys from the truck. There was a motherly quality about this woman that seemed to make it less embarrassing.

“I’d ask you how you slept but I already know,” she continued. “Whole house could hear you snoring up until about twenty minutes ago.”

God I hope I wasn’t screaming in my sleep, I thought.

I didn’t know why but I wanted this woman to like me. She had a kindness that hung over her like grace. She wiped her hands on her apron as she took the eggs off the stove.

“My name is Carol.”

“I’m Xander,” I said. She stuck out her hand and I shook it.

“Nice to meet you, Xander.”

“How many people live here?”

“Usually not more than the three of us,” she said, nodding her head toward the door where the two other women who had congregated to eavesdrop on us quickly scattered. One of them was around my age and cute as hell. She had soft brown eyes like melted caramel and long auburn hair tied back in a ponytail. She had lingered just long enough to make eye contact with me before vanishing into the house. “But on special occasions, when we rescue a group of kids off the highway, the number goes up a little bit.”

I stood there staring at the food.

“You hungry?”

“Yes ma’am.” I could barely control myself. The smell of the bacon was driving me mad. I hadn’t had anything remotely as good as bacon since weeks before I saw my first zombie.

“Go ahead and dig on in,” she said. “Eat as much as you like. Everyone else has already had their fill.”

I sat down and began to tear into the bacon with both hands, shoveling it into my mouth. It was delicious. My fingers and tongue burned a little from the hot grease. Carol laughed.

“Slow down and chew your food now,” she said softly. “You’re going to choke to death.”

Ignoring her, I shoved a full piece of toast into my mouth. I poured a glass of orange juice and downed it in a single gulp. The sugary sweetness hit me like a jolt. I could feel the life returning to me. Carol brought the cast iron skillet over and scooped a hearty serving of cheesy scrambled eggs onto my plate.

“Thank you,” I managed in between bites.

“You are welcome,” she said, smiling. “We’re glad to have you here. We can use all the help we can get.”

“Where are my friends?”

“The little one slept here last night.”

“Benji?”

“That’s the one.” She nodded. “The twins stayed down the road.”

“Where did Benji go?”

“John came for him this morning,” Carol replied. “Benji wanted to check out the neighborhood and John said he’d take him around. I believe they’re at his house now.”

“Which one is John’s house?”

“It’s just down the block and around the corner,” she explained. “Third house on the left. You can see for yourself when you’re done getting cleaned up. I know John wants to talk to you. He was asking about you this morning before he took Benji on their walkabout.”

Suddenly I didn’t feel so hungry anymore. I didn’t know why but the way she said it made me nervous, like a kid being told he has detention. There was something about John I didn’t trust, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. After all, he had saved us the night before. He’d given us safe passage into a dangerous town. He had given us a place to sleep, food, water . . . what was not to like about this guy? Still, I knew I had to trust my instincts. They’d kept me alive so far while a whole lot of people I knew had died. That had to be worth something.

“Where is my sword?”

“I honestly don’t know,” she said, turning away and cleaning a dish. “You will have to ask John.”

I pushed my plate away defiantly.

“You finished eating so soon?” Carol turned back toward me.

I nodded in reply. They had no right to disarm me. My katana was a part of me. The thought of someone else touching it made me uncomfortable down to my core.

“Poor thing,” she cooed, touching my face. “You just ate too fast, that’s all. You probably haven’t had food this rich in some time. The way you were shoveling it in, I’m surprised you didn’t get sick.”

There was no malice in her tone, only motherly concern.

“You’re right,” I lied. “It’s been a while since I had any real food, much less bacon.”

“That’s all right. You go on up and take a nice hot shower,” she said in a soft voice, taking the plate away from in front of me.

“You have actual hot water?”

I couldn’t hide my surprise. I hadn’t taken a hot shower since before I got to Vandenberg. The base only had group showers, like something out of physical education back in high school. We took turns with the girls. The girls always went first. Some days the water was lukewarm, but most days it was just a few degrees above ice cold.

“You take as long as you need.” Carol smiled. “When you’re all dressed and ready, come back down and I’ll tell you how to get to John’s.”

I stood up and walked out of the room in a state of near shock. My feet carried me back upstairs. I went into the room and found my freshly washed clothes on top of my now made up bed. Without questioning it, I picked them up and marched off to the bathroom, locking myself inside and turning on the water. Sure enough, hot water flooded out, steaming up the room quickly. I undressed and got under the beaded stream. Within seconds I felt like I was melting away. The pure pleasure of that shower was so decadent I felt a pang of guilt shoot through me. I could still taste the bacon in my mouth. What was this place? Hotel California?

I didn’t get out right away. After all I had been through, the least I could do was enjoy one moment of peace and happiness. I sat under the water and let it run over my body for a long time, clearing my mind of all thoughts.

When I came out of the bathroom, fully washed and in clean clothes, I could honestly say I felt like a changed man. For the first time in a long time, I had a belly full of good food. For the first time in a long time, I was clean. For the first time in a very long time, I felt fully human.

I put the pajamas back on the bed in a neat pile then bounded downstairs. Carol was just finishing up dishes in the kitchen.

“Thank you so much for the wonderful breakfast,” I said politely, finally finding my manners again. I looked down at my hands, surprised not to find dirt beneath the nails.

“You are very welcome,” she said pleasantly. “You ready to take a walk then?”

Carol gave me a long, thorough description of how to get to John’s, then wrote down his address for me on a scrap of paper for good measure. I walked out the front door, feeling three sets of eyes on my back even though I’d only seen one. I was curious about that cute girl, but I didn’t bother to turn and look back. There were far more pressing issues at hand.

Walking down the street felt surreal. Armed guards paced up and down the concrete with automatic rifles and dark sunglasses, ignoring me. It reminded me of pictures I had seen of Israel back when I was still in school.

I wouldn’t want to get on their bad side, I thought, feeling the hair on the back of my neck involuntarily stand on end.

Other than that, things looked eerily normal—as in pre-Zombie normal. There wasn’t a biter in sight. I should have felt relaxed but I didn’t. A knot of muscles in my stomach contracted as I rounded the corner, passing a beautiful garden in someone’s front yard, and headed down to John’s.

I looked at the slip of paper in my hand, then back up at the house and laughed. There was no way in hell anyone could mistake this place for anything but John’s place. Armed guards were posted in front of the residence as well as across the street. Two more guards stood watch at the door. I easily walked past the first set of guards, but was stopped by the guys blocking the front entrance.

“Name?” One of them barked at me.

You’ve got to be kidding, I thought. Like anyone here doesn’t know who I am by now? Apparently John had a flare for the dramatic.

“Name?” he said again, growing more impatient, if that was possible.

“Xander Macnamara,” I muttered through clenched teeth. Nothing happened for a minute, then both men stepped aside. “Hell of a way to greet people.”

“John is waiting for you up in his office,” the guard answered, ignoring my taunt. “Go straight on up.”

I stepped into the house and the door shut behind me, making me feel more and more like a prisoner. The place wasn’t all that different than the last house I had been in. The kitchen and living room were on the opposite side, but I had a feeling that when I got upstairs I would find two bedrooms and a bathroom, just like where I’d woken up. I heard what sounded like a video game going off in the other room. It all felt so familiar.

Cautiously, I approached the room and saw a big flat screen television nearly the size of the wall. On it, Mario and Yoshi were flying through a rainbow star.

“Awesome!” a small voice said from somewhere among the cushions. That could only be one person.

“Benji?” I walked around the sofa to find him sitting in a pile of comic books with the Wii controller in his hands and a half chewed piece of red licorice sticking out of his mouth. He hit pause the second he recognized me.

“Xander!” He jumped up and gave me a welcoming hug.

“What’s going on?”

“You fell asleep last night in the truck,” Benji said. “I guess the shock of it all just knocked you out.”

“Yeah, I guess,” I mumbled, rubbing the back of my neck.

“John brought us back here and dropped us off,” he explained. “He came by this morning, but you were still sleeping. He said you needed your rest and not to bug you.”

“A woman at the house told me that John has been taking you around, showing you stuff. What has he been saying?”

“You mean Carol?” Benji asked.

I nodded, impatient for his answer.

“Isn’t she great?” he continued. “And who ever thought I’d get to have fresh squeezed orange juice again in my life? And bacon? Did you get to have some of the bacon or was it all gone by the time you got up?”

“I had the bacon,” I assured him. “It was good. Now spill. What does John want?”

“Nothing.” Benji shrugged. “So far as I can tell. He drove me around and told me about the boundaries and which parts of the city the Unity Gang has already captured. Most of it is over to the west of here. Oh, and he took me to an old comic book store and stood guard while I scoured for some new stuff. I got an original Spiderman in pristine condition! I know you have no idea what that means, but it is a big deal. Well it would be a big deal, if anything still mattered in the world, but it’s still a big deal to me!”

I hadn’t seen Benji talk this much since the base. I know it’s petty, but a small part of me resented John for that as well.

“Where are the twins?”

“They slept on the other side of Ocean Boulevard,” Benji said. “This street is for VIPs and stuff like that. John called it the Command Center. He says the twins were over in the soldiers housing.”

“So you haven’t actually seen them?” I asked. “He just told you?”

“Well, I watched as we dropped them off last night while you were sleeping,” Benji said, a note of sarcasm infecting his words. “But I haven’t seen them since then. No.”

“What did John say about me?”

“He talked a lot about you,” he said excitedly. “I think he really likes you. He asked all sorts of questions about you and your training and all about your brother.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Not much. Truth is, I don’t know much. All I know is the stuff about you looking out for me at the base. John said he thinks you are a natural born leader, a protector. That’s what he called you.”

“He did?” I didn’t mean to sound so shocked. I just hadn’t expected flattery. Was I becoming so jaded that I couldn’t trust anyone anymore? This guy took us in and looked after us, but I was still looking for something wrong with him, some reason not to trust or like him. Maybe I was wrong.

Give him the benefit of the doubt, I thought, relaxing a little again. If only for the hospitality he’s shown you, the hot shower, and the delicious bacon.

“It’s just like you said it would be.” Benji smiled. “They’re taking back the city one block at a time. Once they get Lompoc turned around they plan on taking on other towns, cleaning them up too.”

I was glad to see Benji happy again, even if I didn’t know how long it was going to last this time.

“Cool,” I said. “I’m gonna go talk to him. Be back down in a minute.”

“Okay,” Benji replied, turning back to his game without a care in the world. It was nice to see him finally getting to be a kid again. I could hear the sound of gold coins being snatched up as I hit the top of the stairs.

There was a hallway with an open door at the end. My instincts told me that John was in there, but I stopped at the first door and pulled it open anyway. I imagined that I’d find a bedroom just like the one I slept in the night before. Sure enough, there was a bed in there. The rest was not at all what I expected.

Huge red and black flags hung from the ceiling with swastikas in the middle of them. I stood there in shock and looked around the room, seeing that it was stuffed from floor to ceiling with Nazi war memorabilia. There were SS soldiers’ uniforms, weapons, even books. My eyes came to rest on the spine of one sticking out of the bookshelf —Mein Kampf.

Maybe this is why they hate the racially diverse Unity Gang so much, I thought. John and his friends are white supremacists!

The tiny little spark of suspicion that I had been harboring quickly blossomed into a fire of distrust. A flurry of wild thoughts ran through my mind as I tried to recall if I had seen a single person who wasn’t white since we’d hooked up with John. None came to mind.

I knew there was a reason not to like this guy. He’s a racist! That’s why he called the war with the Unity Gang “Helter Skelter.” It’s a code phrase for a race war! He’s like Charlie Manson or something. All those women are probably his sex slaves. I’ve got to get Benji and get out of here as fast as I can.

I knew I couldn’t leave without my sword. I’d need a plan. We couldn’t just bolt without attracting attention. This was bad! Cold chills ran down my spine as I felt a warm hand clasp me by the shoulder. I was totally screwed!

“So,” John said in a deep, steady voice. “You’ve found our secret room.”

Chapter Seven

I spun around to look directly into John’s clear, cold, blue Irish eyes.

“Your secret room?” I sputtered. “You’re into this stuff?” The words were out before I could take them back.

So much for playing it cool, I thought.

John laughed so hard his whole body shook.

“It’s a joke,” he said when he recovered. “Lighten up.”

“So why is it here?”.

“We didn’t put it there,” he roared. “I promise you that. These aren’t our homes. We took over this whole block after Z-Day. We are still finding surprises.”

“So why haven’t you cleaned it out?” It seemed like an innocent enough question to me, but I could see I was starting to push his buttons.

Good to know I can, I thought. That might come in handy later.

“Believe it or not, we’ve got plenty to worry about right now,” he spat, trying to hide his obvious frustration. “We’ll get around to it when things slow down. I promise.”

“Got it,” I said, trying to act like a dumb kid as I turned and looked down at my sneakers.

“Come on then,” he ordered. “My office is at the end of the hall. I wanna talk with you a spell.”

We walked to the back of the hallway and into his office. After the Nazi war room, it was a bit disappointing how humdrum the place was. There was a map of the city with a bunch of stuff scribbled on it and crossed out. From the looks of things, it had been a hard month. John sat down behind the desk and motioned for me to take a chair as well. I sat and stared at him.

“So how do you like our fair city so far?” He grinned. “Not so shabby? Must be nice waking up without worrying that a zombie is gonna chew your head off.”

“Where is my blade?” I didn’t hesitate. I was prepared to go to war to get my katana back.

“It’s safe,” he casually countered.

“Why did you take it from me? You had no right.”

“It’s been decided that the citizens of New Lompoc shouldn’t be armed,” John said, casually trying to brush it off.

“Well I am not a citizen.”

“No,” he replied, leaning forward. “You are a guest.”

I sat back and crossed my arms.

“As I was saying, only armed patrols are allowed to carry weapons.”

“That’s insane,” I interrupted. “So you are telling me that if a wild pack of zombies were to march through town, the people wouldn’t be allowed to defend themselves? Why? Are you really that threatened they might question your authority?”

“First of all,” he managed through gritted teeth, the note of agitation no longer hidden in his usually honeyed voice, “there is no such thing as a zombie horde.”

“Yeah? Then what ran us out of Vandenberg?”

“Second.” He ignored my taunt. “The armed patrols of New Lompoc are more than equipped to handle the Unity Gang threat. Since we took over this territory we haven’t had a single attack—zom or human related. The people are happy again. Life is finally returning to some sort of normalcy. You’d see that if you weren’t looking for some way to tear us down.”

“So it’s simply share and share alike?”

“Pretty much,” John said. “I get the feeling that you don’t trust me much. I can’t say given what I hear you’ve been through that I blame you entirely. What is it going to take to win you over?”

“You could start by giving me back my blade,” I said without hesitation a second time.

John laughed.

“All things in due time,” he replied, a knowing grin on his face. “For now, I was hoping you’d be interested in sticking around and helping out a bit. Word has it you are both a fierce warrior and a loyal friend.”

I thought about Sam the minute he said it. God, I hope Benji didn’t mention him.

“Actually, I have other plans, if you don’t mind.”

“You mean your brother in Hueneme?”

“That’s right,” I answered back curtly. “If you really want to help me out you’ll hook me up with a car and send me and Benji on our way.”

“You and Benji?”

“That’s right.”

“You’re not interested in taking the twins with you then?”

“That’s up to them. They were kind of a last minute addition, if you know what I mean.”

“I do indeed.” John winked. “I’m sorry to say that I can’t let you leave right now.”

“You can’t or you won’t?”

“It’s not like that, Xander.” He sighed. “Things are rarely as simple as they seem.”

“Then explain it to me.”

“Our little slice of paradise is pretty hot right now.” He turned around and pointed to the map behind him. “The Unity Gang controls most of the west of what used to be Lompoc. We control most of the east. We control the northern entrance, to a degree. They still find ways to get around us. They control the southern exit, by and large.”

“So we’ll go around them,” I suggested.

“It’s not that easy,” he continued. “There are no side roads that lead out. Just a wasteland of trails and hills. If the bikers don’t get you, the cannibals might. And let’s not forget that the Unity Gang isn’t all that concerned with killing zombies. The hills just south of here are crawling with them. Some say the bikers are like old fashioned hillbillies. They set up shacks in the woods and keep zombies tied to the front porch as pets or guard dogs.”

“I don’t believe that,” I admitted.

“It’s true,” John said in earnest. “Some even think they are good luck. Others fight them in pits or cages like wild animals, betting on who will win.”

“Money doesn’t mean anything now,” I said. “What’s the point of gambling?”

“They don’t use money,” John said. “Out in the badlands people trade sexual favors, food, booze, bikes, and just about anything else they can get their hands on. I’ve even heard stories of bikers gambling away their kids as slave labor to other gang members.”

“But why?”

“Who knows. People with addictive personalities gotta find ways to keep feeding their disorder, end of the world or not. It’s like a sickness.”

“We can’t stay here forever, John,” I pointed out. “I know you want to convert me to your way of life, but I’m on a mission.”

“Am I being that obvious?”

“Yeah, actually you are.”

“Well,” he said sheepishly, “can you blame me? You’re very gifted for a young man your age. I hear you are good in a fight as well. That you stick up for your friends. That’s brave. We could use good people like you. I’m fighting a war here. I’m trying to bring back a small piece of what we once had. You could be a big part of that. Then, when things calm down, when they are more under control, you can go on your way. What do you think?”

There was a twinkle in his eyes as he made his obviously contrived confession. He had all the makings of a cult leader. It was clear now why he was in charge. He was charismatic. Other guys might be bigger or stronger or better fighters, but in the end he was clearly the brains of the operation as far as New Lompoc was concerned.

“I’m sorry,” I replied. “This isn’t my war. This isn’t my town. I’m just passing through. I have to get to my brother. I can’t afford to get caught up in your fight.”

“I understand.” He sounded disappointed.

“So you’ll let us go then?”

“Of course. I’m not running a prison camp here.”

“And my sword?”

“You can have it back when you go.”

Something’s not adding up here, I thought. This just seems too easy all of a sudden.

“Well then,” I said, standing up. “It was a pleasure to meet you. Good luck with New Lompoc. Now if you will just give us a car and my katana we’ll be on our way.”

John smiled but didn’t move. “I told you. You can’t leave right now. The Unity Gang controls the southern corridor. For the time being, you’re stuck with us.”

Here we go, I thought.

“So I’m just supposed to stay here forever?”

“I’m working on a plan to take back the main highway,” he told me. “I was hoping to get some help from you, maybe change your status from civilian guest to patrol?”

“How do I know you’re not just making all this up to try to trick me into staying?”

“I am so glad you asked that,” he replied, standing up. “I’ve been dying to show you around. Let’s take a ride.”

We walked back downstairs. I called out to Benji to come with us. John looked pensive for a minute, like he wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but he didn’t say anything.

“Why do you have a Nintendo Wii?”

“It’s for first person shooters.” John grinned. “You know, to train up new recruits? We can’t afford to waste real ammunition rounds training in the field, so we do most of them here. Only Benji wasn’t interested in that so he found the one game not suitable for training at all. He’s been at it for hours now.”

We both laughed. John opened the door and walked out. I followed after him, turning my head from the living room where Benji was saving his game play and crashing into a solid wall of muscle. Looking up, I saw a heavily tattooed man with rippling muscles in a torn Gold’s Gym t-shirt. He had a gun belt on with two firearms showing and a large sword on his back. My katana.

“If it isn’t Sleeping Beauty herself,” he said, flashing a crooked smile down at me.

Anger flooded through me, robbing me of all reason as I lashed out at him.

“Give it back to me now!” I pounded both fists into his chest but he didn’t budge an inch.

“Someone sure is grumpy first thing in the morning,” the man spoke in a singsong voice. “After all the sleep you got I assumed you’d be in better spirits.”

I stared at him in shock.

John stepped in to keep the peace. “This is Tank. You met him last night. He is my first in command. The other man in the truck was Bruiser.” John motioned off to the side where an almost equally large man stood smiling at us behind dark sunglasses.

“Give me my sword,” I said in a threatening voice to Tank.

He chuckled. “Nice to meet you too.” He stuck out his hand and I slapped it away. My hand stung from the blow. It was like slapping a block of iron. He chuckled again, casting a glance around at the others who were shaking their heads in disbelief at my gall.

“I told you he had a lot of fire,” John bragged.

“Chill now for a minute,” Tank back peddled. “I’m just holding on to it until John says you can have it back. We share weapons here, like everything else. I saw this beauty sitting there and I knew it was important. I didn’t want anyone else to get a hold of it and damage the blade. Last thing you need is some commando using it to chop wood or pop open locked doors. A masterpiece like this needs to be handled delicately, like a lady.”

“I appreciate your concern,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “Now hand it over.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Tank began. “Why don’t we spar for it? You win, you get it back with no questions asked. If I win, I will keep holding on to it for a while. Deal?” He looked over to John to see if he would object, but he nodded his assent. I didn’t know what Benji had told them but it must have been good. They were all eager to see what kinds of tricks I had up my sleeves.

“Fine by me,” I agreed, stepping back and cracking my knuckles.

Tank looked surprised by my response.

I’m probably the first guy to ever challenge him head on, I thought. If not the first, at least the smallest and youngest . . . and maybe the stupidest.

I walked out onto the lawn and began to stretch. Tank took off his gun belt and set it gingerly on the ground before handing my sword to John to hold. He twisted his neck to the side and it gave a loud pop. I took up my first pose and let him walk toward me, like a moving brick wall made out of human muscle. For a split second I thought about what a terrifying zombie he would make.

“You want me to go easy on ya?” he asked, looking around to make sure everyone was watching as he popped his knuckles while mocking me.

The words were barely out of his mouth when my left heel connected with his jaw. When I saw his head turning, taking his focus off of me, I’d stepped forward with my right foot and planted it firmly in the grass. Then I twisted my body as I brought my left leg around as fast as I could, bending at the waist and pivoting to let the loose leg swing freely toward my target—his fat head. I’d seen plenty of big guys taken down by kicks like these in MMA matches, but I wasn’t harboring any fantasies of a first round K.O. I didn’t have the kind of power needed in my legs to pull off a stunt like that, especially against an opponent his size. As my foot came within striking range of his face, I tensed up and let the heel smack him good and hard to get his attention. It was, for lack of a better term, a smashing success.

I heard a loud crack as I followed through, spinning back into standing position, followed by a round of gasps from our onlookers. Tank’s head twisted to the side but he didn’t go down. He turned back toward me with an entirely different kind of smile. One I was certain his enemies knew only too well just before they died.

“Okay ya little bastard.” He spat blood on the grass. “You wanna play like a big boy. Just don’t cry when ya get hurt.”

He advanced toward me, eager to land his first blow with those meaty paws. I tried to sweep his leg but it didn’t budge. Instead, I was knocked off balance and he shoved me over onto the grass. He attempted to bring his weight down on my elbow first, maybe catch me in the head or the back of my shoulders, but I rolled out of the way and he landed on his ass. I didn’t move fast enough though and he was able to pin me with his upper body and keep me from wriggling loose. I punched out feebly at him with my left hand, but he caught it in his mitt-sized palm and squeezed until shivers of raw pain shot down my arm. The more I pulled to free myself, the worse the agony was.

A plan formed in the back of my mind. If I could roll over in his direction, maybe I could flip my body around and knock him over with both feet.

Yeah, I thought. And maybe you’ll dislocate your shoulder in the process.

But I wasn’t ready to admit defeat. I wasn’t leaving without my blade!

I started to twist toward him, but he must have sensed my plan. He moved so fast it blew my mind. I hadn’t imagined a guy his size could be so agile! He spun around and locked my arm up, crushing my head into the grass with one of his gigantic legs at the same time. Leaning back, he held me in an arm bar. The pain was beyond anything I could describe. He was literally ripping my arm off! I thrashed in pure agony, screaming at the top of my lungs and beating the ground. All the air seemed to go out of my body and, for a moment, I thought I was going to pass out. Flashes of light began to pop behind my eyes.

“Say Uncle,” Tank teased.

“No!” I managed. He leaned back again and the pain returned like a wave of sickness. “UNCLE!” I screamed at the top of my lungs while I slapped at the soft grass.

Instantly, he let up and jumped to his feet. Extending his hand, he offered to help me stand. My first instinct was to try to slap it away again, but I felt dizzy. I reached out to grab his palm, trying to keep the world from spinning.

“Whoa there,” John cautioned, stepping forward to help. “Easy.”

I closed my eyes and swallowed hard. Pain was still tingling through my arm and shoulder, but the humiliation was far worse than anything. Sure he was bigger than me, but that wasn’t the point. Fighting isn’t about size. It’s about smarts. I’d seen small wiry monks easily defeat muscle bound madmen because they were smarter, faster, and most of all more controlled. I’d been none of those things.

If Moto could see me now he would be disappointed, I thought.

I opened my eyes and stood up. Tank rubbed his jaw with one hand and held me up with the other.

“Nice kick,” he admitted, “even if it was kind of a cheap shot.”

“Thanks,” I countered. “Can I have my sword back now?”

“Sorry, but where I come from a deal is a deal,” he said with a bloody smile. “Better luck next time.”

Tank let me go and grabbed his guns from the ground, lacing on the belt again. John handed him my sword and he slipped it back over his shoulder.

“Well that was exciting,” John said. “Now, if there aren’t any further objections, let’s go for that ride.” He turned and walked over to the white truck from the night before.

Pride is your real enemy, I thought as I massaged my arm and shoulder.

What was done was done. I’d have to make the best of it. Being hostile to John and his buddies wasn’t going to get me anywhere. For now I’d have to play along. I swallowed my pride and walked over to the truck, climbing in the back.

“That’s the spirit,” John said. “Hang on now, and keep low. We’re heading into enemy territory.”

He started the truck, the engine roaring to life, and began to back out. Benji got into a Jeep with Tank and Bruiser and followed us. I didn’t have the strength or the will to argue anymore. I was glad to be in the back, away from John’s prying stare. The cool breeze did wonders to help chill my embarrassment and dry the tears of shame that ran freely down my face in defeat.

Chapter Eight

Things were pretty much normal for the first part of the drive. We crossed over Ocean and went into another neighborhood that looked almost identical to the one we’d just left. Aside from the lack of traffic and the armed guards patrolling the streets on foot, it was just like any other day prior to the zombie apocalypse. Tank followed us, grinning at me as he drove.

Keep smiling you big idiot, I thought. This ain’t over yet. How’s that jaw feel?

We stopped in front of a random house and parked. Tank got out of the car and went to the door, knocking on it and yelling out in a booming voice. A minute later Joel and Tom came out dressed in camouflage from head to toe. They both seemed to be in good spirits. I was suddenly glad that Joel hadn’t seen me lose to Tank. That seemed like more than I could handle at the moment.

“Hop up in the front,” John hollered. I rolled out of the back and got into the front passenger side. Joel and Tom got into the back of the truck. Tank got back into his Jeep. “Believe it or not, you’re going to want to buckle up. We’re heading to the border of New Lompoc. Never know when things are going to get bumpy.”

I sighed. Reaching back, I grabbed the safety buckle and dragged it across my chest, snapping it into place at my side. “Happy?”

I was still more than a little agitated about how things had turned out this morning and I didn’t care if he knew it. After all, none of this would have happened if he hadn’t taken my sword from me in the first place.

“You’re a hard guy to win over,” John said. “I thought for sure the bacon would do the trick. Oh well. Here we go.”

John cranked the ignition. The truck roared to life. He screeched off. Obviously this wasn’t how he saw things going either.

We pulled through a cul-de-sac and back onto Ocean, heading west. John had a long range walkie with him that kept going off with coded reports that made no sense to me. It was annoying to hear all the chatter.

“You got a radio station in New Lompoc yet?” I asked, reaching for the radio. He stopped me.

“We had one the first week. But it went down quickly. Drew in Unity Gang members like moths to a flame. They surrounded it and burned it to the ground.” John looked upset.

“You lose a lot of good vinyl that day?” I said, trying to be funny. “Some Three Dog Night and Saturday Night Fever? Abba?”

“I lost my brother that day,” he said, staring straight ahead. “They locked him in and burned the place to the ground. Aaron never had a chance.”

“Sorry.” I made eye contact with him for a brief second to let him know I truly was remorseful. I hadn’t intended on stirring up bad memories. Seemed like nothing was going like I thought it would anymore.

“I appreciate that,” John replied in a reverent tone, letting me off the hook. “Nothing to do about it now. I got a Metallica cassette in the tape deck, but now’s not a great time to play it.”

“Why not?”

“I gotta listen in for updates and reports,” he explained, holding up his walkie. “A short conversation could mean the difference between life and death.”

“Just sounds like gibberish to me,” I protested.

We passed a bunch of old buildings that had been burned to the ground. From what was left of them, I could make out a Taco Bell and a Der Weinerschnitzel.

We must be getting close, I thought. Man, I wish I could have some Taco Bell right now. I’d gladly fight off a hundred zombies for a Nacho Bellegrande and two Doritos Locos Tacos with a large Mountain Dew.

“That’s just because it’s coded.” He chuckled. “They got radios too so we have to keep changing the meaning of things. A couple of minutes ago a guy said ‘blue bird on my shoulder’ and another said ‘cotton tail on the rabbit trail’—did you catch that?”

“Yeah.” I shrugged. “Sounds like rhyming phrases from a kid’s bedtime story.”

“Far from it.” John smiled. “The first means that we are en route to the gas station. The second means that patrolling units have confirmed we are on the move. We’ve been sighted coming up Ocean, most likely by snipers.”

“You have snipers?” I asked with my jaw practically hanging open.

“Pretty cool, huh?”

I was actually pretty terrified. John and his group of military wannabe’s were much more organized than I had expected. Sneaking away was going to be harder than I imagined. It was starting to look like I was going to be here a while.

“King is in the counting house,” a voice squawked over the radio.

“Pocket full of rye,” came the reply.

In the distance I could see the gas station. It was guarded like a fortress. Instead of feeling safe, it filled me with dread. We slowed to a snail’s pace then pulled in through a line of armed guards who parted to let us pass. John drove through them like Moses parting the Red Sea and parked.

“Stick by my side,” he suggested as he hopped out. I followed his lead, giving him a little room as one guy after another came up to him with questions. John had such a relaxed nature it was easy to forget he was in charge of this whole operation. Quickly I began to see that a whole lot of people counted on him for direction, for guidance, for support and encouragement.

“We’re running low on lights,” the first guy reported.

“Ask Jimmy,” John replied. “He’s in village four. Radio over to him.”

“Thanks,” the guy said and rushed off.

The next guy in line stepped up. “Janine told me to let you know they are having problems with the water purifier,” the bald man groused.

“What kind of problems?”

“I don’t know,” He sighed loudly, scratching his patchy red beard. “She thinks something is wrong with the filter.”

“Can you send Gilly over to look at patching it again?”

“I can, but I’m not sure a patch will fix it this time.”

“We gotta try,” John encouraged him. “If that fails we’ll go to plan B.”

“What’s plan B?”

“I’m working on it.” John smiled and the guy smiled back.

“Got it.”

“Good man.” He gave the guy a friendly slap on the back.

“We need more food rations,” a short bald guy explained.

“Bruiser is bringing back some grub after our border run. How low are you?”

“Not critical,” the guy admitted. “We’re down to beef jerky and protein drinks. Another day and we’re going to have guys scrounging in the streets for bags of chips and road kill.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” John laughed. “You’re starting to look pretty thin as it is. Plus I’m not sure the birds can handle the competition. I’ve seen you tussle for meat. You’re downright ornery when you need to be.”

As the bald man walked away smiling and shaking his head, a short, wiry looking guy stepped up in his place, biting his fingertips in between words.

“Project Wild Turkey is still in play,” he boasted, looking at me nervously.

John’s face changed.

“Just a minute,” he said, turning to me. “Can you give us a moment alone?”

I nodded. John put his arm around the small man and they walked away whispering to each other.

I turned to see the rest of the group hanging back near the gas station office. Benji had found an old arcade game and plugged it in. He was totally lost in playing Galaga. Bruiser watched from the side, excitedly cheering him on. I walked over to find the Parker twins sitting in the office playing with their newly issued hand guns.

“What’s up?” I said, trying to sound casual.

“I heard you got whopped this morning,” Joel goaded, picking a fight right out of the gate. “Brutal.”

“I got in a few shots,” I said defensively.

“Yeah,” Joel shot back instantly. “I heard about your sucker punch. Man, you are lucky that Tank didn’t tear you in half for such a low blow.”

I could feel my face heating up as the anger flooded through me again.

“I see they gave you guys guns,” I observed, recalling John’s earlier remarks on the subject of arming civilians.

“Of course they did,” Joel bragged. “John knows talent when he sees it.”

“Made us go through some safety and shooting tests first,” Tom piped up, trying to keep the peace. “Ammo is in short supply. They made a big deal out of explaining that we are supposed to exhaust all other means of fighting before we discharge our weapons.”

“Does that mean you plan on staying here?”

“We are all staying here, genius,” Joel chided, escalating the tension between us once again. “The road out of town is blocked by bikers and gang bangers. You’d better wise up and start playing nice if you have any brains at all. This is gonna be our new home for a while, and the way you’re heading you’re not making any new friends.”

“I like it here,” Tom offered. “I had hot oatmeal this morning with fresh fruit and a hot shower. It felt like things were almost normal for a minute. Did you get a hot meal?”

“They probably gave him cold cereal with water instead of milk,” Joel taunted.

I decided not to mention the bacon and eggs. The last thing I needed was another fight. The truth was, I was relieved that the twins had bought John’s propaganda hook, line and sinker. It meant I didn’t have to take them with us when Benji and I snuck off. Suddenly a huge weight felt like it had been lifted off my shoulders.

Why would John go to such lengths to try to win me over? He hadn’t put that much work into the others, so why feed me bacon and beg me to stay?

“They fed me.” I shrugged. “That shower was something else.”

“I just stood there for the longest time and let it wash over me,” Tom confessed, his eyes sparkling with the happy memory.

“Yeah, me too. It was amazing.”

Joel seemed a little perturbed that I’d stopped feeding into his taunts and insults. Whatever his agenda was, this wasn’t it. It was like the guy couldn’t stand to see me happy for even a second.

“I hear you earned a new nickname,” he started in again. “Sleeping Beauty, is it?”

That’s it, I thought. I don’t have to take this kind of abuse from him or anyone else.

I balled up my fists and began to march blindly toward Joel, ready to finish the fight we’d started the night before, out on the bridge. I had every intention of smashing his brains in with my bare hands.

It took him a minute before Joel finally realized he’d gone too far. I don’t know if he thought the rest of John’s crew was going to protect him or that I wouldn’t respond to his jeers, but he looked truly caught off guard. His eyes dashed to his weapon on the desk then back to me, as if he was considering fending me off at gunpoint.

I hope he tries, I thought. I’ll have that thing out of his hands and shoved down his own throat before he knows what hit him!

There was panic in Joel’s eyes, but he forced himself past that. He puffed his chest and prepared for my first blow as I rounded the corner.

“What?” Joel shouted as I came within striking distance of him.

“We’re going to settle this once and for all, Parker,” I said in a calm, even voice. I thought I noticed a slight tremor move through him, but it could have been my mind playing tricks on me.

“Come at me, bro!”

“You ready or what?” I turned to see John standing in the door. Bruiser and Tank were behind him, smiling.

“Where are we going now?” I asked.

“To the border,” John replied dryly. “You wanted to see the blockade for yourself, first hand. This is your chance.” He turned and walked back toward the parking lot without waiting for an answer.

“This isn’t over,” I muttered under my breath to Joel.

“You can count on that,” he replied, making a big show out of picking up his gun.

“Come on, girls,” Tank yelled. “Pull on your dresses and let’s get moving.”

I waited for Tom and Joel to go first, then followed behind Benji, Bruiser, and Tank.

“Looks like you’re equally popular with all the cool kids,” Tank muttered to me. “You make quite an impression.”

“I made quite an impression on your jaw, didn’t I?” I said defiantly.

“You did,” he said without malice. “It’s still sore now that you mention it. Hell of a kick.”

“You planning on retaliating later as well?” I asked. “I’d like to know how many eyes I need in the back of my head to watch my back.”

“Worry about the zoms, kid.” He shrugged. “I got my eyes on something way more important.”

“What’s that?”

“The big picture.”

John stopped at the Jeep and turned to address us.

“Listen up,” he shouted. “We’re going to save a little petrol by taking one vehicle.”

“How are we all going to fit in there?” Joel asked.

John looked irritated at the interruption. I fought back a laugh as the rest of our group gave Joel the stink eye.

“Tank will ride up front with me,” John explained. “Bruiser is going to ride the tailgate and keep lookout as spotter. The rest of you can cram into the backseat. Worst case scenario, if something goes down, the small one can sit on someone’s lap.”

Benji frowned at the suggestion. “I guess I don’t mind,” he said a bit selfishly.

“That’s a relief,” John retorted sarcastically. “Gentlemen, we are heading into what is for all intents and purposes a fully active war zone. We can be attacked at any moment without warning or just cause. I am only going to warn you one time to do exactly what I tell you to do. We got that?”

Everyone murmured their agreement.

“Keep your wits about you and you will make it out alive,” John dramatically warned us. “Now get in.”

Everyone climbed into the Jeep in the order he suggested, except me. I stopped John before he could get in the driver’s side.

“I need a weapon,” I begged. I was feeling really uncomfortable with the idea of heading into a combat zone unarmed.

“That’s understandable,” he agreed, reaching into his holster and handing me one of his firearms. I took it, letting the weight of it sink in. “Safety is on,” he warned. “You know how to shoot one of these?”

“I do,” I assured him. “I’m better with my sword though.”

“Give it a rest, Xander!” John hit the roof. I thought flames were going to shoot out of his eyes. I froze up, not knowing what to say.

“The gun is fine,” I backpedaled.

He gave me a fierce stare then softened. “Good. Let’s roll.”

Getting in last meant that I ended up in the middle of the backseat bench next to Tom. Benji sat between Joel and me to keep the peace. I was riding the hump. I could feel every bump in the road from the minute we passed the guards and bounced off the high curb. John took off down the road and immediately the loud roar of the wind blocked everything else out—but luckily I was in the unique position of being the only one able to hear and understand what John was saying. We were in our own little bubble, as the saying goes.

“Why is there so much security at the gas station?”

“Because of the fuel,” John guffawed. “Obviously, they’d love to take this away from us. We’ve still got enough gas to keep things rolling another six months at this rate. We use it not only for the cars but for generators and heaters. It’s not like there are any more refineries out there turning black sludge into liquid gold. This stuff is more valuable than diamonds.”

“If they don’t have gas, how do they keep their bikes running?”

“That’s what we keep asking ourselves,” he admitted. “Nothing gets past you.”

There was that flattery again. I knew better than to fall for it, but it still felt good. John sure knew how to push people’s buttons. Guy made it look effortless.

“Thanks,” I said, trying not to blush.

“We think they have a stash of their own,” he said. “After we regained control of our territory, first thing we did was go house to house and collect fuel. We pulled juice out of old lawnmowers, siphoned it from gas tanks, anywhere we found it. They must have done the same thing.”

“And you’re keeping it all at the gas station?” I asked.

“Now that wouldn’t be very smart, would it?” He showed his devious smile once more. “Let’s just say that we got it strategically spread out so that no one raid can rob us of it. Can you leave it at that?”

“Sure,” I gulped. He never threatened me outright but it sure felt implied, just like the last time I asked for my sword back.

“All right then,” he crooned. “Let’s keep the chatter to a minimum now. We’re approaching the border.”

John shut off his radio and we rode in silence. I could hear screaming in the distance, and the roar of motorcycle engines. The barricade came into plain view. There was no mistaking it. A row of bullet ridden cars cut off one side of a major street from the other. The New Lompoc side was clean and covered with guards. The old Lompoc side was filled with trash, burning tires, and rowdy bikers hooting and hollering as they raced back and forth up and down the street. The sight of it made John’s point on its own, but I was starting to suspect that had been the whole reason for dragging us out here.

We parked about a hundred feet from the border. John got out and signaled for us to follow without saying another word.

“Stay close together,” Tank growled as we climbed over the sides of the Jeep. “And keep your mouth shut.” He stared at me specifically before turning his back to me. My sword was only a few feet away from me and I needed it.

I ought to rip it off his back and give him a piece of my mind, I thought.

Instead, I followed the group to a staging area outlined with sand bags where a bunch of armed guards were hunkered down with walkie talkies watching the other side of the road. One of them turned around and saw John. He bolted up and ran to him with his hand out.

“No one told me you were coming,” the man began, but John waved his concerns away with an easy gesture.

“Don’t worry, Peter,” he said. “This isn’t a formal visit. Just taking some new friends on a little tour of our fine town is all.”

Peter turned to us and waved.

“Welcome to New Lompoc,” he crowed with an earnest smile. Those were his last words before the explosion knocked him off his feet.

Chapter Nine

It was like it was all happening in slow motion while Peter was waving and saying hello to us. Dreamlike, a bottle somersaulted head over end above him, the glass and fire catching reflections of the sun, sparkling and drawing our attention to it. It arced high over Peter like a satellite in orbit with no hope of ever returning to Earth. The next instant, it came racing back down, the weight of the fuel and the heavy glass bottle dragging it bottom first toward the top of Peter’s head. For a brief moment it seemed like it would smash into his skull altogether. Our facial expressions went from disinterested to horror before his wondering eyes.

Poor guy doesn’t have a clue what’s about to hit him, I thought.

As the bottle hurtled toward him it spun less, the force of gravity correcting it until it was right side up with the thick bottom rushing down to kiss the asphalt. The flaming rag atop the sealed neck merrily danced like a wild-eyed, redheaded seductress, lost in the epiphany of the impending destruction it wantonly foretold.

Before any of us could call out to warn Peter, the Molotov cocktail smashed down next to him, narrowly missing the top of his head. There was a loud explosion as it burst, the flames greedily licking at the embarrassment of riches bestowed, a drooling puddle of pure fuel. Instantly Peter was knocked off his feet. Fiery hell shot up and engulfed his whole body as he screamed in pain.

In the distance, a man dressed all in blue stood laughing. At his feet were several more Molotov style cocktails waiting to be ignited by his Zippo lighter. Several men rushed to Peter, taking off their shirts and jackets and holding him down to put out the fire consuming him. Peter wailed in agony, panicking and having to be repetitively told to roll over and to not stand up.

Stop, drop, and roll, I thought. This is why they used to try to teach us that in school.

The sound of gunfire cracking off took us by surprise. I looked up to see Joel aiming at the man responsible for this tragedy and firing away.

“No!” John cried out. “Cease fire!”

Joel wasn’t listening. His face was twisted up with hatred.

Something inside of him must have finally snapped!

“Put that gun down now! That is an order!”

“Come and get me, cracker!” The gang member loudly crowed at us, then turned and dashed toward a cluster of nearby buildings.

Instead of lowering his weapon and obeying orders, Joel charged forward. He cleared the barricade and began running after the culprit at a full sprint, determined not to let him get away.

“Stop him!” John ordered to Bruiser.

Bruiser nodded. He pulled out both his guns and rushed past the cars toward Joel.

Several men roughly patted Peter to make sure the fire was out. He moaned and shook in shock. Most of his hair and skin were burned away. There was a good chance that he wasn’t going to make it, even if they did get him medical care. I could understand why Joel had been upset, but that didn’t mean he should rush into unfamiliar territory and risk his life.

For all we know this is a trap, I thought.

No sooner were the words formed in my mind than the yelling and shooting began. The man responsible for burning up Peter had turned the corner at a full dash with Joel in hot pursuit and Bruiser not far behind him. A second later, five Unity thugs had come running toward them, guns drawn, shooting wildly.

“Do something,” Tom screamed.

“We can’t,” John protested. “If my men open fire they might hit your brother or Bruiser.”

Joel just missed getting shot in the face by throwing himself at the ground. Bruiser wasn’t so lucky. Being a big guy, he had a lot of momentum going as he ran full tilt to try to catch Joel. By the time Joel ducked down to avoid the muzzle being pointed at his face, it was too late for Bruiser. He didn’t even know what hit him. The gun went off and the top of Bruiser’s head came apart in a spray of blood, hair, and skin. He was dead instantly. Bruiser’s full limp weight came crashing down on top of the gang member who killed him, pinning Joel’s legs to the ground at the same time.

“Joel,” Tom yelled in panic. “Get up and run!”

Joel frantically struggled to free himself, eventually pulling his legs out from under Bruiser’s nearly headless corpse. Shots rang out from my right side as John’s men took out two more Unity Gang thugs, causing the rest of the ambush squad to retreat back behind the building. All we needed was for Joel to get back over the line.

“Why aren’t they shooting anymore?” I asked out loud, but no one answered me.

I looked at the buildings surrounding the intersection for signs of eyes in the windows but couldn’t make out any.

“Hurry,” Tom hollered.

Joel began to limp back toward us. The man who had thrown the explosive concoction brazenly walked out from behind his safe spot, pointing his gun at Joel.

“Behind you,” John cried out, but it was too late.

Before Joel could turn and see what was happening, the man fired off two shots at him. The first pierced through his upper leg and came out the front of his jeans, covering them in blood. He faltered and began to pitch forward. He put his hands out to brace his fall, like a little kid. The second shot seemed to cut across Joel, entering somewhere in his back and coming out his chest. A tiny spray of blood came from between his lips as he fell flat to the ground.

Shots rang out from all sides as Joel fell out of the line of fire. The gang member jerked as the volley of bullets pierced him as if a live wire of electricity was running through him. He fell over, twitched briefly, then went still.

Tom wailed in disbelief at the horror unfolding before him. Tank and another patrol member held him back. John rubbed his brow and shook his head in disgust. Joel’s head moved as he started to get up, but he fell back to the ground. Then he began to slowly crawl toward us.

“Let go of me!” Tom shouted. “We’ve got to go help him!”

“It’s not safe,” John howled.

At that moment, almost as if to back up his warning, a pack of four zombies came wandering out from down the street. The air rumbled as the sound of motorcycle engines roaring to life besieged our senses. We heard loud yelling and hooting as the bikers fled the scene.

“Where did they come from?” Benji asked in surprise.

“Unity Gang probably brought them with them,” John yelled over the crackle of gunfire that ensued. “They keep ‘em as pets and fight them. I told you it was bad.” John turned and stared at me.

It was too much to take in at once. Things had gone from bad to plain psychotic. Joel was still inching forward, pulling himself along. He wasn’t going to make it. What started out as four or five zombies was now easily up to thirty. John glanced around. They were coming out of buildings in packs. The gunfire wasn’t doing much to slow them down. Their bodies seemed to absorb the rounds. Only a direct shot to the head would stop them from advancing.

“Get back in the Jeep!” John yelled. “We’re leaving now!”

“No!” Tom cried out in protest. “We have to save Joel! We have to save my brother!”

“It’s too late for that,” John hollered back. “Now get in or get left behind.”

Benji scrambled up into the Jeep. He curled up in a ball in the backseat, keeping his head down and covering his ears. The sound of gunfire was all around us, like a chorus of exploding high grade fireworks. I followed him in, taking the passenger seat. John started the Jeep and put it in reverse. Tank dragged Tom, desperately kicking and screaming, to the car.

“Get in or I’ll knock you out,” Tank warned him.

Tom tried to pull himself free but Tank grabbed him by the arm and yanked him around, delivering a hard punch to the stomach that knocked the wind out of him. Tom doubled over and Tank wasted no time throwing him in the back of the Jeep. Tank was only part way in the vehicle when John took off, slamming the pedal to the floor and leaving a trail of rubber behind.

Tom lay next to Benji, crying mournfully. Tank didn’t say anything. I opened my mouth to speak, but John cut me off.

“Not a single word,” he growled, his voice low like a coiled snake ready to strike.

I shut my mouth. We rode in silence until we got back to the first neighborhood. John pulled up in front of his house and shut the engine off.

“Everyone inside the house now,” he demanded. There was no longer any pretense of friendliness about him. We climbed out of the car and stood staring at John, waiting for further instructions. He looked like he was about to explode.

Now we’re seeing the real John, I thought. A coward who leaves fallen men behind.

My look must have said all of that and more because John suddenly turned on me.

“I’ve had just about enough of you for one day,” he said. “Tank, see to it that these brats are secured until I decide what to do with them.”

“My pleasure,” Tank replied.

“Lock them in the secret room and put a guard on them,” John barked. “I’ve got some business to take care of and I don’t want them causing any more trouble or even accidentally getting anyone else killed.”

Before Tank could reply John floored it, taking off down the street.

“Well, ladies,” Tank began with a slimy grin. “You heard the man. Let’s go.”

He marched us upstairs to the room covered with Nazi memorabilia. I hadn’t bothered to tell Benji and Tom about the decor. Their surprise was as genuine and deep as mine when I first saw it.

“You like it?” Tank asked. “I decorated it myself.”

“You did this?” Benji asked in surprise.

“Yep,” he proudly responded. “I’m a bit of a collector, or at least I was before Z-Day. John’s house burned down during the riots so I offered him mine to set up headquarters in. There is some reading material you can flip through while you wait to see what John plans to do with you.”

“You can’t keep us locked in here like prisoners,” I feebly objected.

“That’s where you are wrong,” Tank corrected me. “We can and we will. Consider yourselves lucky. If it were up to me I’d just take you out back and shoot you for what happened back there.”

And if it were up to me I’d chop off both your hands and leave you to the zoms, I thought.

“My brother is still out there,” Tom cried out suddenly. “We have to go back for him.”

“I hate to be the one to tell you this kid, but by now your brother is either dead or craving some serious brains. It’s his own damn fault too. I never seen anything like that before. It was like he had a death wish.” Tank spit out a string of curse words that made Benji blush.

Tom’s jaw clenched and I could see he was plotting how to repay Tank for his insult.

“That’s his twin brother,” I said. “Show some sensitivity.”

“I thought you two hated each other,” Tank replied.

“We didn’t hate each other,” I fumed. “We disagreed. Besides that’s no reason to leave him to zombies. How would you feel if someone did that to one of your family members, then laughed about it?” An evil look came over Tank’s face, like a dark cloud throwing a moody shadow across his eyes and forehead.

“I’ve known Bruiser almost my whole life,” he said in an even, steady voice. “He was better than a brother to me. He’s saved my life countless times. Now because of your idiot brother’s actions, he’s dead.”

“Sorry,” I offered as guilt flooded over me.

“Save your apologies for John,” Tank roared, his tone hard as nails. “I don’t give a crap what you children think. Just remember this, you ever talk that way to me again and I will twist your head off like a dinner chicken. Now sit down and shut the hell up.”

Tank shoved us deeper into the room and slammed the doors. He locked them from the outside.

Of course, I thought, picking myself up from the ground and testing the handle. The secret room locks from the outside. That’s why John wanted to keep us here. Tank wouldn’t want people just wandering in and discovering his Nazi obsession. Before Z-day he kept it under lock and key. After the world came apart, and he was helping to run a white paramilitary splinter group that was fighting off mostly minority gang members, it wouldn’t matter if people knew he was a bigot.

“It’s locked from the outside,” I explained without them asking.

“What do we do now?” Tom wondered, pacing back and forth and chewing on his fingernails.

“Nothing we can do. We wait and try to come up with a plan.”

“We have to help Joel,” Tom reiterated. “We have to go back for him.”

“I agree,” I said. I looked over at Benji and he nodded. “First chance we get we have to make a break for it. We’ll grab Joel on the way out of town and never look back.”

“How are we going to get out of Lompoc when the Unity Gang controls the highway out?” Tom asked. “You saw what they’re like. They’re animals who killed my brother for no reason at all. It’s not like we can just explain that we’re not part of their war and they’ll let us pass through.”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But we will find a way.”

I sat down with my back to the doors and closed my eyes to think. Things were not going according to plan at all. Somehow I knew they were going to get worse before they got better. I felt guilty about Joel’s death, even though it wasn’t my fault. Yeah I didn’t like the guy. He kept challenging me. He kept picking fights for no reason. He was a pain in the butt from the minute he saved us at Vandenberg. That didn’t mean I wanted him dead, did it? No. It didn’t.

I was exhausted from the events of the day and my mind was starting to play tricks on me. I was going to leave Joel and Tom behind. That’s the truth. I was going to grab Benji and sneak out of town the first chance I got. Now I was going to have to risk my life again to try to help Tom. But how? Nothing came to mind but more problems when I asked myself that question.

Without even realizing it, I drifted off to sleep again.

Chapter Ten

The sound of the door unlocking woke me from a deep, dreamless sleep. I scrambled to my feet and hurried over to the bed where Benji had passed out. Tom sat in the corner staring at the wall, as catatonic as Cameron in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. It had grown dark outside. I quickly scanned the room for signs of a clock. All I saw were Nazi symbols and swastikas.

Abruptly, the door swung open and Tank stood there looking as intimidating as ever. “Rise and shine, kiddies,” he sang out condescendingly. “It’s dinner time.”

The cute girl I had seen earlier in the day stepped out from behind him with a tray full of soup bowls. She walked into the room and set one down in front of each of us. The contents looked like piping hot beef stew with a square of yellow corn bread on top. When she set the bowl down in front of me, she stared deeply into my eyes for a long time. Up close she was even more beautiful than I had imagined. I was speechless. Then without a word she turned and marched quickly out of the room.

Another woman I didn’t recognize came from behind her and gave us all large glasses of water. I gulped half my glass down at once. I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was.

“Easy there runt,” Tank scolded. “You’re only getting one bathroom break, so take it slow, amigo.”

“Where’s John?” I demanded. “I want to talk to him.”

“And people in hell want ice water,” he said in a mocking voice. “In case you hadn’t noticed, John’s a pretty busy guy. He’ll get to you when he has time, princess. Now eat your chow and shut your yap.”

Tank slammed the door shut and locked it again.

“You think it’s safe to eat?” Benji delicately turned over his portion with a large spoon, like it might explode at any second.

“I guess so,” I said, taking a cautious first bite. It tasted good, really good. “Tastes fine to me.”

“What if he poisoned it?”

“I think if John wanted to kill us he would just take us out and shoot us,” I mused.

“Yeah,” Benji agreed. “Or let Tank twist our heads off like chickens.”

I turned and looked at him in shock. He laughed. I tried to fight it back, but soon I was laughing too.

Things have just gotten ridiculous so fast, I thought. I looked over to see that Tom wasn’t eating. He’d turned himself more toward the wall and was muttering under his breath. He was taking what happened to Joel pretty hard. It made me stop giggling.

“That’s not funny,” I said, spooning in a few bites. “Eat up. We’re gonna need our strength.”

We chowed down in silence for a while. When I reached the bottom of the bowl I found something unexpected. At first I thought it was a seasoning leaf. I dug at it with my spoon to unearth it from the soil-colored sludge of the stew and saw that it was a piece of plastic. I pulled it out to reveal someone had stuck a tiny plastic bag at the bottom of my bowl, but that wasn’t all. There was paper inside.

A note, I thought. Someone snuck a note to me. But who? And why?

I unwrapped the plastic and removed the paper from it, being extra cautious not to get it wet. I unfolded the tiny square of paper until it was the size of my palm. There were tiny words etched into its surface in perfect little letters.

The guard change happens at midnight. The spare key is hidden in the spine of Mein Kampf. Check the map in John’s office. The road south is not guarded by Unity Gang. You’ve been lied to. Eat the evidence when you are done. Good luck!

I leaped up and grabbed the book off the shelf.

“What’s going on?” Benji asked.

“I’m not sure,” I replied honestly, flipping the pages down and pulling at the spine. The glue gave a gentle sigh and came loose. A shiny silver key slid out and plopped onto the bed. I picked it up and shoved it in my pocket.

“What’s that?” Benji probed.

“I will tell you later,” I promised, crumpling up the note and jamming it into my mouth. I chewed it up as best as I could and swallowed it whole. I could feel the sharp edges tickling as it slid down my throat.

A moment later the door opened again.

Just in time, I thought. Any longer and I would have been caught.

The cute girl came back in and cleared the dishes away. I tried to make eye contact with her, to let her know I had gotten her message, but she wouldn’t look at me. She was in and out of the room in under a minute. Tank sauntered in after she left, looking annoyed to be stuck babysitting a bunch of kids instead of being out there chasing down gang members.

“All right,” he grumbled, sounding grumpier than ever. “Time for bathroom breaks. Who has to go?” Benji stood up and walked toward the door.

“Good,” Tank said. “Now let me remind you that if you try to escape you will be killed without hesitation. No warning shots. You got that?”

Benji turned white. His young legs began to tremble a little. He was unable to answer, so he nodded his reply.

“Fantastic,” Tank chortled, pulling him out of the room. He shut and locked the door again.

I turned to Tom. “I know you can hear me in there,” I whispered gently to him.

He didn’t budge. He hadn’t touched his food either. His eyes were moving back and forth a lot and he kept blinking, but that was about the only sign that he was still in there.

“We’re getting out of here tonight. First thing we do is steal a car. Then we go looking for Joel. You don’t have to do anything. Just be ready to go when the time comes and don’t slow us down. You got that?”

Tom closed his eyes and shook his head. “Got it,” his small voice croaked.

It made me sad to see him this upset. He was always the fun one, the peacemaker, the guy telling us all that everything was going to be okay. Losing his twin brother to the chaos out there had turned him into a hollow shell. I knew I didn’t have to explain to him that there was a good chance we wouldn’t be seeing Joel again, that his brother was dead and gone—or worse, transformed into a monster.

The lock clicked several times and the door swung open once more. Tank shoved Benji back in.

“Next,” he said.

I stood up. “I’m next.”

“You know the drill.” He frowned. “You make a break for it or try to be a hero and I will rip your arms off for real this time. Is that clear?”

“I understand.”

“Then let’s go.”

Tank led me out and locked the door. He slid the key back into his pocket.

That’s not going to be a problem anymore, I thought.

We walked down the hall, passing John’s empty office. My eyes lingered on the big map on the wall. Tank shoved me on before I could get a good glimpse of it.

“Keep going,” he said roughly.

There will be time later tonight, I reminded myself.

I walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind me, locking it even though I knew Tank could easily knock the door down if he wanted to get to me. I turned the water on and did my business. While I was in there alone, I went over my plan. At midnight I would strike, unlocking the doors to the secret room from our side and pulling them open. Hopefully, there would be no guard there, but if there was the element of surprise would work in our favor. I’d cover his head with a pillow case and choke him out. Then we’d all have to sneak out, find car keys, steal a car, sneak out of the neighborhood undetected, and slip back to the heart of a war zone to look for a missing person—all before high tailing it out of town with bikers chasing us.

This is insane, I thought. There are too many things to plan, too much left to chance. It’s never going to work.

I beat back the pessimism with an internal pep talk: It has to work. I have no other choice. Whatever happens, we’ll make it work. We will fight until we are free and on our way. Sure the odds are against us, but it’s been that way since Z-day and we’ve survived. We will adapt to whatever surprises come our way.

Adapt and survive. That was what Moto always said.

A loud banging at the door brought me back to reality.

“Hurry up in there,” Tank yelled. “I ain’t got all night.”

I flushed, pulled up my pants, washed my hands, and unlocked the door again.

Tank practically yanked me out of the room and shoved me down the hall.

“When are we going to see John?”

“Tomorrow,” he responded. “He said he’ll sit down with you first thing after church.”

“Church?” I gave him an odd look. Somehow I couldn’t picture them as God fearing Bible thumpers.

“That’s right, little sinner,” he said. “What? Did you think we were a bunch of Godless heathens like them biker trash?”

“Doesn’t the Bible say to turn the other cheek?” I asked.

“It says a lot of things,” Tank scolded, growing annoyed at having his faith challenged. “I’m not up to a theology lesson from a snot nosed punk kid like you right now. So shut it.”

“Sorry,” I offered, turning my stare to the ground to give him the impression I truly was.

“You know,” he pondered, unlocking the door. “We were all hoping things would turn out different with you.”

Before I could answer, he shoved me into the room. I collided with Benji and we both fell on the bed. The door clicked again and I knew it was now locked shut. I tiptoed over and put my ear to the keyhole, listening for the sound of footsteps. Benji tried to speak but I waved him silent with my hand. It sounded like heavy footsteps pacing back and forth in the hallway.

I pointed over to the corner where Tom was still sitting staring off into space. Benji and I huddled around him to whisper.

“What’s the plan?” Benji asked.

“The guards get changed at midnight,” I said.

“How will we know what time it is?”

Tom pulled back his jacket to reveal a kid’s wristwatch. The time was eight-thirty.

“That takes care of that.” I laughed. “Thanks Tom.”

He blinked in reply.

“So how are we going to escape?”

“I am still working on that.” I chuckled.

“What does that mean?”

“It means there are a lot of things involved in this escape,” I said, annoyed. “There is a whole lot that can and probably will go wrong. We need to be honest with ourselves about that right from the start if we are going to make this work. We need to stay flexible and never let go of our goal.”

“Freedom,” Benji whispered.

“Joel,” Tom mumbled.

“All the above,” I added.

For the next few hours I kept my mind busy, turning the plan over and over in my head, mostly to keep myself from falling asleep again. I dreamed up one possibility after another and then imagined what I would have to do to overcome the obstacles they presented. I thought about Tank’s words, how they had hoped I would go along with their plan from the start and join them. It would have been a whole lot easier to escape if I had gone along with their plans for me. I wished I would have thought that through a little more, instead of just blurting out whatever came to mind. It was too late now for regrets.

When it got close to midnight, Tom tapped me on the shoulder and pointed to the door. I knelt down again and put my ear to the keyhole once more. I could hear loud snoring. At points, it even shook the door slightly. A dull, male sounding voice resonated on the other side. There was some commotion that sounded like someone standing up. The door moved. For a moment I was afraid they were going to open it and check on us.

I glanced back to see Tom and Benji ready to pounce. I waved them back with my hand. It was too late to pretend we were sleeping. A few tedious moments passed and then I heard the men talking outside.

“It’s a ridiculous assignment,” the voice said. “They are just kids. How much trouble could they be?”

“It’s not up to you to make that call,” the other voice said. “John wants us to keep an eye on them. That’s what we’re going to do.”

“I thought he said the kid with the sword was joining our movement?” There was heavy sarcasm in his voice. “Thought he was supposed to be officer material. Guess that didn’t work out.”

“Stop asking questions or I will have you court-martialed,” the voice threatened.

“Take it easy.”

“I’ve been stuck watching a door all day,” the man said. “I’m hungry and I’m tired. See you in the morning.”

I heard one of them walk away. It sounded like the other slumped down into almost the same position the first had, with his back against the door. This part was going to be easy. I would simply unlock the door, pull it open fast, and choke the guard out. With a little luck he’d have a set of car keys on him. That meant all we had to do was check the map and get my sword on the way out. No way was I leaving without it!

I turned and made the thumbs up to Benji, who took one of the pillowcases off the bed and held it ready to bag the guard’s head. Tom grabbed a bronze bust of Hitler off the shelf. If the guy made too much noise we were going to knock him out. I only hoped Tom wouldn’t hit him too hard.

The closer it got to midnight, the more Tom seemed to come back to life. There was a growing fire in him, fueled by revenge. These people were misguided, no doubt about it. It was wrong to hold us against our will, wrong to treat us like kids, but I didn’t think they deserved to die for it.

The guys got real close to me. I put the key up to the lock, threading it into the key hole and slowly pushed it all the way in. Making as little noise as I could, I turned it until the door clicked. We all froze in fear. I put my ear to the door but didn’t hear anything. If the guard was sleeping up against it, the click could easily have woken him.

At least I know Tom will clobber him if he tries to come through before I get it open, I thought.

Just when I figured I couldn’t take any more, I heard a low snore coming from the other side of the door. I nodded one more time to the guys, then stood up and yanked it open. The guard, a small, middle aged man with a bald spot on the back of his head, fell over into the room without making a sound. Benji threw the pillowcase over his head and Tom hit him hard twice on his crown. He went limp almost immediately.

“Well that was easier than I expected,” I whispered.

I turned out the guys pockets. He had a small square of chocolate and a deck of playing cards. There were no keys. This was going to be harder than I had imagined.

“Stick close to me,” I ordered, slipping out the door and picking up the man’s dropped gun.

The house was dead quiet as I walked down the hall to John’s office. I stopped and listened for signs of life, but there were none. It was almost as if we were the only ones left. The thought gave me chills but I didn’t know why.

“Okay,” I said. “Keep your eyes open. If anyone comes near or if that guy gets up, don’t hesitate to raise the alarm. It’s going to take all of us to get out of here in one piece, and we are not leaving anyone behind this time.”

I went into the office and partially shut the door. Using only the light coming in the window from the cracks in the blinds, I traced a line with my finger across the map from where we were to the barricade. I checked for routes from there that led down toward the highway. There was one that ran along an old cemetery and came to what looked like a dead end. We had been lied to by John for sure. The only way out of town was right through the far side of New Lompoc, miles from where the war was happening. There was no way for me to know that this morning when I had first seen the map, but now that I had been to the fight it couldn’t be more obvious.

“She was telling the truth,” I mumbled in disbelief. Before I could turn to tell the others the good news, I felt two sets of big arms loop around either side of my neck and pull me off the ground. The air came out of me in a rush as they tightened like two angry, tattooed boa constrictors. My feet kicked uselessly at the ground below. I heard my gun drop to the floor.

“Well, look who came out for a midnight stroll,” the man’s voice said.

Tank was going to strangle me to death. It had been a trap and I had walked right into it.

Chapter Eleven

“My daughter cannot tell a lie,” Tank crooned, his voice coming out of the darkness. “She just has too big of a heart. Poor thing. I blame myself for naming her Tammy. People don’t realize it’s short for Tammany, which of course is Irish for honesty.”

If I could have drawn in a breath I might have told him I was Irish too. I was not above playing the race card, especially since I knew the guy was a white supremacist. It was no use. My head was swimming. His arms felt like they were made out of metal. I scratched at them but he didn’t give an inch. It was as if he couldn’t even feel it.

“It’s only one of her weaknesses, unfortunately,” he said causally while I kicked and fought for air.

Had he been in the room the whole time waiting for us? She’d set us up? Of course she did. Why would she help us? It didn’t make any sense. He told her to trick us so he would have an excuse to get rid of me. John was still hoping to turn us to his side, and Tank was worried I might challenge him in the months to come. With me out of the way, things could go back to normal. First I had to fight off Joel and now Tank! The biggest difference being that Joel only wanted to kick my butt. I had no doubt that Tank was trying to kill me.

“The other is her beauty,” Tank mused absentmindedly, as if he strangled sixteen-year-olds to death every day for sport. “She gets that from her mother, may she rest in peace. Don’t feel too bad. You’re not the first to fall for her act. The note-in-the-soup trick works every time. You eat the evidence and no one can blame me. I’m just doing my job, keeping you from escaping. Later on I will tell John you confessed to being a Unity Gang spy and that it was no accident you were on the road waiting for us. John’s a great man but he suffers from paranoia, especially since his brother burned to death.”

My vision was going completely black. Tiny little pops of light appeared and vanished. I renewed my struggle. Where are my friends? Why aren’t they helping me?

“Usually I don’t take this much pleasure in killing a non-zombie,” Tank confessed, “but ever since you sucker kicked me in the jaw, I’ve been looking forward to the moment when I would finally get to watch the light go out of your eyes.”

At the rate he’s going it won’t be much longer now.

I went limp and let him hold me up.

Let him tire himself out, I thought. I’m going to need all the brain power I have left if I am going to get out of this. Think! Think! Think!

Moto had taught me how to slip out of attacks from behind, but in every instance they involved having my feet on the ground. I never imagined I would be up against a giant. My mind raced, trying to think of weapons I might have on me. My pockets were empty. I could try to head-butt him unexpectedly, but there was no guarantee that would work. More than likely it would just upset him more and he’d snap my neck like a twig.

Tank was still talking, but his words were starting to sound farther away. They had a dull echo and I couldn’t tell if they were coming from inside my head or not. My fingers instinctually found his hands and gripped them. They felt like knotty branches from a tree.

His fingers, I thought. That’s it!

The short training sessions Moto and I had done on Chin Na came flooding back to me all at once. By applying a small amount of force on his joints, I could produce a huge amount of pain, forcing him to release me. Just twisting his hand the wrong way would be enough to completely bring him under my control if I did it right.

I took both my hands and wrapped them around the index and middle fingers on his right hand. Using all the strength I had left, I bent them back hard and fast. A loud roar erupted out of Tank and he dropped me. Air flooded back into me but I didn’t let go of his fingers. Tank reached back to slap me away, but I bent his fingers back even more and he yelped in pain, falling to his knees. Tears flooded his eyes, washing out the shock and anger. He rapidly panted in pain, unable to speak. I twisted his hand extra hard until I felt the bones snap and Tank screamed at the top of his lungs, unleashing a torrent of obscenities in the aftermath. With my free hand, I knuckle punched his windpipe and he went silent as he choked for air. My strength was coming back to me now. I was angry and flooded with adrenaline.

Tom and Benji came rushing into the room, but stopped and stared when they saw Tank on the ground holding his throat. I quickly maneuvered behind Tank and put him in a sleeper hold, using my forearm to choke him out. Despite his size, he gave me almost no resistance. Eventually, he fell to the carpet floor like a heavy sack of flour and remained there, motionless.

“Did you kill him?” Benji asked in shock.

“I don’t think so,” I said, my voice raspy from being choked out so long.

“He’s just unconscious,” Tom informed us, placing his fingers on Tank’s neck and checking for a pulse.

I picked up the gun and handed it to Tom. “Cover him,” I managed to croak out through my swollen throat, “while I go through his pockets. If he moves at all, go ahead and shoot him.”

““What happened?” Benji inquired as I fished out Tank’s car keys.

“It was a trap. The girl who was helping us is actually his daughter. They planned on killing us all and telling John we were spies for the other side.”

“That’s crazy,” Tom said. He seemed to be finding his grip on reality again now that it looked like we were going to escape.

“It gets worse,” I went on. “The road out of town is actually on the New Lompoc side. Which means John was trying to trick us into staying and fighting in his war. We never needed to go to the border in the first place.”

“So what happens now?” Tom stared at me.

“I guess we head south and leave town,” Benji suggested. “And pray they don’t have a trap waiting for us there too?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “We promised Tom we’d find Joel. I know we didn’t exactly get along like best friends but we can’t leave without finding out what happened to him.”

“Thanks,” Tom said. “You’re a good man.”

“How are we going to get out of the house without raising an alarm?” Benji asked.

“We march right out the front door,” I said darkly, retrieving my sword from Tank along with another pistol. I checked the blade to make sure it was still in pristine condition. The small sliver of light coming in the window danced across the steel. “God help anyone who tries to get in our way.”

“We’d better hurry before one of them comes around,” Tom prodded.

We rushed down the hallway, taking the steps two at a time. When we got to the front door, Tom stopped and waited for my response. I drew my blade and nodded. He held his pistol tight with one hand and yanked opened the door with the other, but there was no one outside.

The Jeep was parked by the curb. Suddenly, a loud yell rang out upstairs and lights flashed on in the kitchen.

“Let’s go,” I cried out, rushing outside.

Benji and Tom were right behind me. We climbed over the side of the Jeep and I hopped in the driver’s seat. I had the keys in the ignition and the engine running in just a heartbeat.

Tom and Benji pointed their guns at the front door. The short man we’d ambushed at the secret room came running out with his gun drawn. Benji and Tom both let off several shots that seemed to explode over his head, forcing him to run back into the house for cover.

I peeled out, racing up the street and turning onto Ocean toward the direction of the border. I wasn’t exactly clear on how we had gotten where we were. The last thing I wanted to do was go by the gas station and ask for directions. They’d be after us now in no time. The plan was getting more screwed up by the second.

“Turn left up here,” Tom advised, pointing at an intersection with a strip mall. “I’m pretty sure John took us this way on our personal tour the first morning before you arrived.”

“You got it,” I replied, glad to have a distraction.

We drove past armed patrols, but they didn’t even turn their heads as we went by. No one had sounded the alarm yet.

Tank was obviously going rogue, I thought as I rubbed my sore throat. I could still feel his arm crushing my windpipe.

“Turn right up here,” Tom directed. We rounded the corner and I could see the barricade in the distance coming up fast.

“What are we going to tell them?” Benji asked.

“We’ll think of something,” I lied.

One of the armed guards held his hand up as we approached and I slowed to meet him.

“Let me do the talking,” I insisted. Tom and Benji nodded. I stopped to meet the guard.

“What are you doing out here this time of night?” He didn’t seem upset or alarmed by our presence, just curious.

“Tank sent us out,” I said calmly. “Said we’d have a better chance of looking for his brother Joel at night since zoms slow down after dark.”

“I wish that were true,” the man replied. “I’m Harvey. Park over there.” He pointed to a line of vehicles. Benji shook his head no but I pulled over and parked anyway.

“What are we doing?”

“We’re finding Joel and getting the hell out of here,” I whispered. “Just do what I do.”

“We’re going to get caught,” Benji said.

“No,” Tom said in his normal, relaxed voice. “Everything is going to be fine.”

“No one would suspect in a million years that we would come back here,” I suggested. “They probably think we made it out of town already. Tank’s going to have a lot to explain to John.”

We got out of the car and walked over to Harvey.

“How’s Peter?” I asked.

“He’s had better days,” Harvey admitted wearily. “I didn’t see it but I hear it was like he was consumed by a giant fireball. Most of the skin was burned off his body. He’s still alive but he’s in serious shock.”

“Jesus,” Tom gasped.

“We got some medical supplies and they are doing what they can for him,” Harvey said. “Bunch of animals those Unity Gang creeps are. It’s bad enough we have to fight off the zombies. The last thing we need is to fight with each other.”

“Amen to that, brother,” I agreed, slapping him on the back and walking toward the line of cars. “What happened?”

“You should know,” Harvey said raising an eyebrow in surprise. “I heard you were here but John rushed you away to keep you all safe.”

Yeah, I thought. That’s one version of what happened.

“I meant after the attack,” I corrected myself, not skipping a beat or contradicting his story. “When the zombies swarmed.”

“I got called in about an hour later,” Harvey explained. “The official report is that they pushed back the zombies and held the line, but just barely.” He turned to Tom. “After the fighting was done, they looked for your brother but didn’t find him. There was no body. Either the Unity Gang came back for him or the zombies turned him. Sorry kid.”

“Let’s hope it’s the first then,” Tom groaned.

“I hear you,” Harvey replied. “Zombie ate my wife right in front of me. Nothing I could do but watch her scream in unfathomable pain as they ripped her arms and stomach apart with their bare teeth. We were leaving town, heading south, when some jerk in a truck broadsided us and left us for dead. I was pinned in. She got out to look for help. I couldn’t do a thing.”

“That’s terrible,” I offered.

“It gets worse,” he cautioned us before plunging further into his twisted tale of woe. “Hours went by and eventually the zombies were drawn to a new kill zone by the smell of fresh meat. They left me there. I got to see my dead wife reanimate before my eyes. Can you imagine?”

“No,” Tom practically shouted, shaking his head from side to side.

“Later, when John’s men found and freed me, I hunted her down,” he said. “I was the one who killed her.”

“I’m so sorry,” I sympathized.

“Don’t be,” Harvey explained. “It brought me a lot of comfort to be the one who did it, to know that she is at peace now and not walking the earth looking for people to eat. I would want her to do the same for me if our roles had been reversed.”

“I never thought about it like that,” I admitted. It sounded horrible no matter how you looked at it.

“I hear people tell stories all the time about how they lost one of their friends or family members under similar circumstances,” he continued. “The story goes that they couldn’t bring themselves to kill their loved ones, so they got eaten instead. I am proud to say I didn’t hesitate when I saw my Suzie. I put her out of her misery with a single shot to the head. I did the Lord’s work here on Earth during his last days. I know she is smiling down on me, that I will see her again at the right hand of Christ when he returns to rule over this world.”

“I appreciate your kind words” Tom told Harvey, “but I am going to find my brother. I can feel it.”

“I wish you luck,” Harvey sincerely replied.

“There he is,” Benji shouted, pointing to the middle of the road past the barricade. Sure enough, Joel was limping slowly across the intersection. His clothes were torn and his skin looked ashy and gray. There were bite marks visible up and down his arms. He had been turned. He was already gone.

Tom didn’t hesitate. He turned and jogged toward Joel, calling out to him.

“Son, don’t!” Harvey yelled. Armed guards trained their weapons on them but Harvey called for them to stand down.

“What is he doing?” Benji asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, “but it doesn’t look good.”

The walkie talkie on Harvey’s hip began to chirp and I heard Tank’s voice coming over it. We were out of time. Soon it would be too late to make a run for it and get out of town. We’d be stuck here forever as John’s slaves or worse—target practice for Tank’s goon squad.

“Get back to the Jeep,” I ordered Benji.

“What about Tom?”

“I don’t think he’s coming with us,” I said, turning and walking back as fast as I could without drawing attention to myself.

Harvey held up his walkie talkie to his mouth. He looked confused by what he had just heard.

“Say that again?”

“Those kids are Unity Gang spies,” Tank screeched. “They’ve already killed two guards and stolen top secret intel from John’s house. Don’t let them get away.”

I didn’t wait to hear Harvey’s response. I fired up the Jeep and started to pull away. Looking in my rearview mirror, I saw Harvey pull his gun out and point it in our direction. Behind him Tom screamed as Joel began to bite his neck. Gunfire rang out as the armed patrol shot them both dead. Harvey turned to see what had happened, but Benji and I took off.

“Well,” Benji said, “at least you kept your word. Even if it was totally crazy for you to do that.”

I drove along a series of side streets, down by where the map showed the cemetery, hoping to avoid getting caught or running into that dead end. I kept an eye out for any off road opportunities we might come across to slip out of town. Having a Jeep meant we could easily make our own path, but the last thing we needed was to get stuck out in the middle of Unity Gang territory or surrounded by zombies in a muddy field without even a tree to climb up.

After fifteen minutes I found a small dirt road behind some track houses that looked like it ran along the highway as a fire route. We drove along, passing a cluster of wild cows, and eventually came up onto the highway itself. There was not another car in sight. I drove around a corner feeling elated that we’d managed to sneak out of town, until I saw the row of cars blocking the highway ahead. In the center was John’s truck. He was standing in front of it with his arms folded. The expression on his face was pure rage. Next to him was Tank with his right hand bandaged. I stopped the car in the middle of the road.

“What do we do?” Benji said in a panicked voice.

I looked in the mirror and saw a row of lights heading our way, blocking our escape. They had chosen this point in the highway for good reason. There were hills on either side of us that prevented our escape even in a Jeep. We were in the lowest point of the road. The only way out was forward.

“I don’t know,” I conceded.

“Can we ram them?”

“I don’t think so. More than likely they’ll blow holes through the Jeep if we try and we’ll bleed to death.”

“What are we gonna do?”

“Our only hope is to try to reason with them,” I concluded at last. “Maybe we can convince John of our innocence, tell him Tank was trying to kill us.”

Benji looked white with fear. He was trembling all over. I had a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach like I had just swallowed poison. Slowly, I pulled the Jeep up.

“That’s far enough,” John yelled through cupped hands. “Shut off the engine and throw out the keys.”

I did what he told me to do.

“Step out of the vehicle with your hands up.”

Benji and I exited the Jeep and stood there. I still had the handgun tucked into the front of my jeans and my katana on my back.

“Throw down your weapons,” he insisted.

“No,” I shouted back.

“Excuse me?” John looked genuinely puzzled.

“Tank tried to strangle me to death earlier,” I yelled. “He told me he was going to kill me like he’d killed the last visitors you had, then tell you we were spies.”

“Sounds like something a spy would say,” Tank retorted.

“We didn’t kill anyone,” I explained. “We trusted you and now two of our friends are dead.”

“Put down your weapons or we will be forced to shoot,” John demanded again.

“Then shoot,” I hollered back. “All we want is to be on our way. If you are not going to let us go, then you’re going to have to kill us. We are not going to surrender and have Tank finish us off later when you’re not looking.”

“You heard him,” Tank roared. “They are traitors. Shoot them!”

“Hold your fire,” John said turning to Tank.

“Oh come on!” Tank screamed. “You saw what they did to my hand! They came here with one purpose and one purpose only, to get information to take back to the Unity Gang.”

“Then why didn’t they cross over when they got to the border?” John asked. “If they are working for Unity, why would they take the road that leads away from the biker hideout?”

“You’re not serious, are you?” Tank puffed out his chest. “They’re just trying to mess with your head. For all we know, this is an ambush and Unity Gang riders will be all over us any minute now. Think about it!”

I unsheathed my sword and held it out in front of me.

“Lower your weapons,” John said in a calm voice. “I need to have a word with you before you go. I promise you will leave here unharmed.”

Tank seethed with anger. He turned and punched his huge fist into the side of John’s truck, denting the door.

Cautiously, I inched forward. I kept my blade out but I left it at my side. Benji got behind me. Armed guards pointed their guns at us. If they were going to kill us, it wouldn’t take much.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Benji said.

“Me too, kid,” I replied.

John walked out and met me between the cars.

“This is a real mess,” he said. “You gotta understand how this looks from my side.”

“It looks like the neo Nazi you put in charge as your first command tried to murder me and my friends, from where I’m standing.”

“Tank’s a good guy,” he insisted. “You don’t know what we’ve been through. He’s got trust issues. That’s all.”

“And now thanks to him, so do I,” I fired back. “Look, this doesn’t have to be complicated. Tell your men to stand down and let us go. You’ll never have to see us again. End of story.”

“I wish it were that simple,” he said, scratching his head.

“It is that simple,” I flatly pointed out.

“Maybe if you left the kid,” John said. “As a sign of good faith. That might work.”

Benji grabbed the back of my shirt and buried his head.

“What’s the matter?” John asked, looking down at him. “I thought you liked it here? You can have all the video games and comic books your little heart desires.”

“No way,” I said. “It’s not gonna happen. Benji is my responsibility and I am not leaving him behind.”

“There now,” John said with admiration in his eyes, pointing at me and smiling. “Can you see why I need your help? You are the perfect balance of warrior and philosopher, loyal to the bitter end. No wonder Tank is intimidated by you. You stick around and I will make you my second in command. Tank will have to answer to you!”

I looked over at Tank. A murderous rage was visible in his face. As tempting as it might be to take John up on his offer, I knew that it was just a matter of time before that man finished me off.

“That is a tempting offer,” I lied.

“Isn’t it?” John flashed us that sly grin, as if to say he knew he’d already won when he hadn’t. “I’ll tell you what . . .”

He cocked his head to the side like he was listening for something. Then I heard it too. A low growling, like a herd of wild animals shuffling toward us off in the distance. Only it wasn’t livestock we were hearing. The unmistakable smell came downwind toward us. John and I both realized it at the same time.

“Zombies,” he said right before one of his men let out a high pitched scream that tore our attention away.

Chapter Twelve

The next thing I knew, there was wild gunfire going off in every direction. A zombie horde, just like the one that had taken over Vandenberg, had come up from the south and taken John’s lynch mob completely by surprise. The men were so focused on our discussion they hadn’t seen the monsters sneaking up on them. Several unlucky souls were torn apart before they could even get a shot off.

John wasted no time. He ran as fast as he could past us toward the Jeep. He climbed in the driver’s side and started the engine. I thought he might use the open topped vehicle to try to save some of his loyal subjects, but instead he quickly turned around and took off back toward New Lompoc. I watched the red of his taillights disappear in the darkness in stunned silence.

The coward just ditched his own men!

I turned back to see Tank had a zombie by the throat and was holding him off the ground. The undead monster snapped and lunged at his face but couldn’t reach him.

“What do we do?” Benji pleaded.

Once again, I didn’t know the answer. The cars behind us were backing away, following John’s pitiable example of retreat. In no time, the zombies would be past the line of vehicles and heading toward us.

We need to take one of those cars, I thought. Plain and simple. We can’t go back to town now. There is no other way.

“This isn’t going to be pretty,” I warned him. “Do you trust me?”

“You don’t sound like you’re planning something truly crazy when you ask that or anything,” Benji sarcastically replied.

“I am,” I promised. “Let’s just hope it’s crazy enough to work.”

I took my gun out and held it in my left hand. I held my sword up in my right. Benji, who didn’t have a weapon, got behind me again, using me as a human shield.

I took off at a solid run toward Tank. When I got close enough I aimed the gun at the zombie’s head he was holding. Tank’s eyes grew wide. I think for a minute he thought I was going to shoot him. He turned as if he was going to throw the snapping zombie at me, but before he could I shot the creature right between the eyes. Thick, gooey, black decaying blood and dark brain matter splashed across Tank’s face. He dropped the writhing corpse and it went still. I sprinted past Tank while he screamed hateful curses at me, wiping the mess from his eyes.

A long haired teenage zombie in a Slayer shirt moved up along the side of John’s truck. With one downward motion I cut him in half with my sword. His mouth and arms kept reaching up for me. The dead thing was so determined to feast on my flesh that it didn’t even notice it had been sliced in half! Before the top half could topple over, I snapped my blade back and severed the spine from the head. It fell over in three pieces at my feet.

“Nice one,” Benji said encouragingly.

I grabbed the door handle to John’s truck and yanked it open.

“Get in fast!”

Benji scrambled past me and up into the passenger side. By the time I shut and locked the doors, he was buckling himself in. I turned over the ignition and, without hesitation, the engine purred to life. Benji smiled at me.

You gotta love Ford trucks, I thought.

I looked up to see Tank staring at us with fire coming out of his eyes.

Geez, I thought. You’d think the guy would be happy we just saved his life.

I glanced in the rearview mirror. There were about a hundred feet of zombies behind us. Once again, we were between a rock and a hard place.

“Hang on,” I warned. “This is gonna be one rough ride.”

Tank reached down with his good left hand and brought up a handgun. He pointed it at us just as I threw the truck in reverse and plowed down a row of zombies. The gun went off and Benji and I automatically ducked down. The bullet went into the truck’s grill, hitting something metallic but not stopping us. Another shot went off and punched through the top of the windshield, spraying us with a fine mist of glass shards.

“Stay down!”

Behind us, the loud sound of clanging rang out again and again as we mowed down one zombie after another. We were surrounded on all sides now by the walking dead. They beat their slimy hands against the truck, pressing their bodies against the doors. I could still hear the gun going off, but the shots weren’t reaching us now. They were hitting the dead and being absorbed. The zombies didn’t even seem to notice.

Well, I thought. At least we have one less problem now.

“We’re stuck on something,” Benji shouted.

I knew without looking he was right. We’d run down over a dozen of the creatures at least. The rags that were once their clothes were coming off of the zombies and getting twisted up in our axle, preventing us from backing up farther and escaping.

“Hold on,” I said, shifting into drive. “I’m going to try to dislodge him.”

Loud thumping on the back window of the truck scared both of us. We hadn’t expected them to get into the vehicle. Usually zombies can’t climb.

I must have accidentally popped some of them into the truck bed when I floored it, I thought as I drove back through the zombies, freeing the one trapped under our wheels.

“Look out!” Benji shouted, pointing out the front window.

Tank was standing just outside the edge of the zombie horde pointing his gun directly at us. I was going too fast to stop. It was too late to duck. He was going to shoot me and I was going to run him down. I saw the look of fear in his eyes as we came down on him. He pulled the trigger again and again, but nothing happened.

He’s out of bullets! He used them all up when he was trying to kill us earlier.

The front of the truck slammed into Tank, knocking him over. It sounded like the grill cracked. Steam poured up from the headlights.

“Aw man,” I groaned. “He is gonna be pissed if he lives through this.”

“Serves him right,” said Benji.

“Let’s try this again,” I said, putting it in reverse and backing up again. This time we had more of a path. We cleared the zombie horde with almost no resistance. The last thing I saw was them climbing over each other to get at Tank.

“They got him,” Benji said.

“Looks like it,” I agreed, turning the truck around to face south on the highway. “Better him than us.”

We drove off and, as we picked up speed, I could hear the damage we had done. It sounded like metal was grating on metal. Every couple of minutes the whole truck would shake with a violent tremor and give off a high pitched squeal. Still it ran. I intended on taking it as far as the thing would carry us. No way we were going on foot after that last zombie horde.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Benji said. “Are we going to be able to make it all the way to Hueneme in this?”

“We’ll be okay,” I assured him, despite thinking pretty much the same thing. “We’ll see how far this thing can take us, then swap it for another ride when one becomes available. Just try to relax. The worst is over for now.”

“The sound is driving me nuts,” he complained. “Makes me think the whole truck is gonna come apart at any minute.”

I remembered John telling me he kept a Metallica tape in the cassette player of the old truck.

“Let’s see what John left us for tunes,” I said, turning on the switch.

Heavy metal music poured out loud and clear. Lightning fast guitar picks and pounding drums filled up the cabin and blocked out most of the grating sounds. And Justice for All, one of my favorite albums. Benji and I lost ourselves in the music for over an hour without either of us talking. I beat out the rhythms on the steering wheel and he sang all the lyrics he could remember. It was probably the most fun I’d had since we left the base.

I was afraid to take the truck up over 45 mph. Every time I got it going that fast, the whole chassis would shake violently and Benji would unconsciously dig his nails into the paneling on his side. I knew at this rate we wouldn’t get anywhere near the base until the next afternoon, but I didn’t mind. I was so happy to be away from New Lompoc in one piece that I couldn’t complain.

We saw a couple of drifter zombies in various states of decay along the way. One of them looked more like a skeleton than a human. Its skin hung off it like loose sheets in the wind. It was missing part of its left arm, and its face was sunken in and decayed so badly, with just wisps of what must have been hair left on its rotted skull, that it was nearly impossible to tell if it had been a man or a woman when it was alive. It wandered into the middle of the road like a lost ghost looking for the way back to heaven or hell. It was so close to true death that it didn’t even take notice of us as we came barreling down on it from the higher grade. I took my foot off the gas and let us drift by, getting a closer look as I swerved around it. As we rolled past I noticed it didn’t have any eyes.

We passed plenty of other cars as well, but not one of them looked suitable to drive. Even though the pickup was on its last legs and barely limping along, I wasn’t going to chance swapping it for another car that might strand us out in this no man’s land.

Most of the cars were smashed up in some way or completely burned out. They looked like they had gotten into accidents with thin air. I wondered to myself if the drivers had hit other cars on the road in their panic and abandoned the vehicles or if a zombie horde like the one we encountered had overrun them as they sat in traffic.

When Z-day came, everyone had tried to flee at once. People up north thought if they could just get down south they would be safe. People down south tried to flee up north to get away from the zombie outbreak. Everybody thought they could run to some other place, some magical land that hadn’t been affected yet. They thought they could wait it out. They were wrong.

When we got to Vandenberg, we learned that the outbreak had happened all over California at almost the same time. No one knew how it had started but there were rumors. One story said that it came from China, from a sick traveler who brought it with him when he landed at either LAX or SF. They say he attacked a stewardess on the airplane who then took it with her to several places around the world on an international flight.

That’s the “patient zero” theory any way.

Most people believe that it spread first among the homeless population in California. So many transients flock here to escape bad winter weather and they are virtually unprotected out on the streets, forgotten and abandoned. The city of Los Angeles had a ‘no questions asked’ bus-out program to ship homeless people from skid row to the Las Vegas Strip on a one way ticket. It wasn’t really legal but it wasn’t quite illegal either. With the economy taking a crash, there were too many needy people who actually wanted help and not enough shelters. No one on the City council thought they would be shipping the zombie virus to a tourist destination. It hit Vegas after it hit California, then spread like wildfire all over the Midwest and eventually the East Coast.

It’s funny, I thought. In every major movie the end of the world always starts in New York City. But in reality it all began on the West Coast, in California. Seems kinda ironic.

People don’t talk about it much, but the truth is the virus went haywire south of the border even before it hit Vegas. Migrant workers carried it with them back to their homes in Mexico. Once it got in, it was impossible to stop. It spread down to Mexico City almost overnight, then out to the rest of Latin America and the Caribbean. People in Florida could see the black smoke out over the sea from fires burning in the lost island of Cuba long before Vegas was lost.

One of the last acts of Congress was to place travel restrictions on Europe, stopping foreigners from coming in and banning visits to or from Mexico, along with a halt on all imported products. The fact that they thought this would stop it, after years of poor border enforcement, only underscored just how screwed up our political system was in the end. By then it was too late. It spread up into Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona in less than a month. After that, well, we just don’t know what happened. No one does. The whole world went offline.

The tape ran out with the final licks of Dyer’s Eve, the frenetic, unrelenting drum track chasing the lightning fast thrash guitar to the end like a galloping horse. I reached up and shut off the radio before the cassette could flip again.

“You don’t like Metallica?” Benji turned to me surprised.

“Who doesn’t love Metallica?” I answered. “I just thought we could use a break is all. We’ve played it straight through now twice.”

“I used to play them nonstop before Ever Rest came out.” Benji said it like a confession. “I forgot how good they are, how much I love them.”

“You a big fan of Jax?” I asked.

“The biggest,” he said.

“So did you buy the album the minute it came out on iTunes, or just download it from the Pirate Bay?”

“When that first album came out, I was like six,” Benji said. “I was barely getting over The Wiggles, you know? I got into metal a little over a year ago. Listened to everything I could get my hands on. A lot of it on Youtube at first. I didn’t want to pay for stuff I didn’t like.”

“Piracy never occurred to you?” I said. “You know, test drive it and if you like it buy it later?”

“I didn’t trust it,” he said. “You never know what you’re really getting when you download a torrent. One time my friend Craig accidentally got some real nasty stuff.”

“You mean like a virus?”

“He got one of those,” Benji said. “Eventually. Wiped out his whole hard drive. I’m talking about illegal stuff, the kind of stuff that would get you sent away before Z-day.”

“Ah,” I said, not wanting to push.

“Really gross stuff with kids.”

“Got it,” I said, trying hard to change the subject. Even after everything I’d seen, the thought of coming across some horrible image from the dark side of the deep web just made me super uncomfortable. There were plenty of sick people in the world before Z-Day. They just weren’t as easy to spot is all.

“He wasn’t even looking for it,” Benji said. “That’s the worst part. It was hidden in a download labeled as music. After I heard that, I lost all interest in downloading.”

“So what kinds of bands did you get into?”

“At first it was like Van Halen and Motley Crue. I dabbled in Alice in Chains for a bit.”

“They are good,” I agreed. “You gotta be in the right mood. Like Soundgarden or Rage Against the Machine.”

“I tried harder and harder music, like Pantera and Slayer and Helloween,” Benji said. “I used to think they were the greatest bands in the history of music.”

“Yeah? What happened?”

“All that went out the window when I heard Ever Rest,” he said. “Jax did things with a guitar I didn’t know were possible. It was like hearing Jimi Hendrix for the first time or Randy Rhoads. Amazing. I stopped listening to anything else.”

“A real fan, huh?” I said. “I remember that feeling.”

“Did you feel like that when you first heard Jackson?” Benji pried.

“Well no,” I confessed. Benji looked disappointed. “Don’t get me wrong, I love his music. He’s like Slash in a lot of ways, but more moody and complex.”

“Exactly,” Benji said. “So who made you feel that way?”

“Rob Zombie,” I blurted out. Benji gave me a confused look. “You never forget your first love. My brother tells me his was Foreigner. Says he fell in love when he heard the song Jukebox Hero on 45.”

“What’s a 45?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Some kind of recording they used to use to listen to music, I think.”

“What’s the story with your brother anyway?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “You talk about him all the time but I still don’t know a thing about him.”

“Where do I start? I don’t want to bore you to death with it all.”

“It’s not like we have a whole lot else going on right now.”

“Except being in the middle of a zombie apocalypse fleeing for our lives?”

“After the last few days, I could use some boring conversation,” Benji admitted. “I’m starting to feel like I will never see normal again.”

“I understand. Well I told you he is a corporal in the marines, or at least he was before Z-day. Now that all the armed forces are working together, I don’t really know how ranks work anymore.”

“Yeah you told me that,” Benji said, suddenly taking a big interest in my family life. “Is that his real name? Moto?”

“No.” I laughed. “It’s kind of a joke, but it isn’t at the same time. They used to have those commercials for Motorola cell phones on television all the time, you know . . . the one where the guy’s voice goes all high pitched? He says ‘Hello Moto!’“

“I remember,” he said. “Did he have that phone or something? Why did that stick?”

“You don’t understand,” I told him. “His real last name is Ishimoto.”

“I thought your last name was Macnamara?”

“It is,” I said. “My dad was stationed in Japan when he was in the marines. He was married to his first wife, Jane. I never met her.”

“Isn’t that weird?” Benji asked. “Thinking that someone else could have been your mom? I never really got that.”

“Stay focused,” I interjected. “This story gets a little complicated and I don’t like telling it all that much so I really don’t want to have to repeat it.”

“Sorry,” Benji said.

“It’s fine,” I went on. “Now where was I?”

“Jane?”

“Right,” I said, picking up my train of thought where I had left off. I hadn’t told the story in a while so I was trying to remember the best way to tell it without confusing him.

“So I guess Jane got tired of waiting for my dad to come back from Japan. She sent him a letter saying she wanted a divorce and that she had found another guy—like some traveling businessman, I swear I’m not kidding, to run off with.”

“Wow,” he said. “Harsh.”

“They were high school sweethearts, the way my dad tells it,” I continued. “He was devastated. He started drinking more than he should have and running around bars in Tokyo. That’s where he met Aiko, Moto’s mom. I never understood if she was a singer at the bar he went to or if it was just karaoke.”

“So what happened?”

“I guess they started running around together. Dad said she really helped him turn things around when he was in a bad place. I asked why he didn’t stay in touch with her after he was transferred to Germany. All he told me was that she was busy with her singing career.”

Benji was completely absorbed in my family history.

“I wish I would have asked him more questions,” I said. “It’s too late now. There are so many things I would have liked to know. When you’re a kid they tell you what they want you to believe and you never think to pick apart the answers, not until later when you’re older. By then it’s old news.”

Benji nodded.

“My dad met my mom when he got out of the service. She was a car service girl on roller skates at one of those retro hamburger stands. He said he used to go there all the time. He’d brag about the amazing onion rings and how thick they were, but now I think he just went there to check out the girls in short skirts.”

“I don’t get it,” Benji said.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “You will soon enough. He said it was love at first sight. They were married in under a year. He spent a good chunk of his military money on a house and a new car. He used to joke he spent more time in the car cruising than he did at home before he met my mom. She hung up the skates when I came along.”

“Where is your mom?”

“She passed long before Z-day,” I said bitterly. “Cancer.”

“I’m sorry,” Benji sympathized. “I didn’t know.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s not anybody’s fault really, except maybe God. Funny thing is, my dad got all religious after that. Then one day out of the blue there was a knock on the door and there was Moto. He’d tracked my dad down and come to confront him for leaving his mom.”

“I thought you said he was transferred?”

“That’s not what Aiko told him,” I explained. “She was ashamed of getting into trouble, especially by an American. In her culture there are strong prohibitions against being with foreigners, so she tried to say Moto’s father was this older Japanese guy who owned a factory a couple of towns over. The only problem was that Moto was clearly part white. The other kids teased him mercilessly, growing up. He says they called him a half-breed and a mongrel. He says he used to get beaten up every day walking home from school. Still his mom wouldn’t tell him the truth.”

“That’s terrible,” Benji said.

“That’s what I said,” I agreed. “Moto says it made him stronger though. He says he finally confronted his mother one day and she told him the truth—except the way she told it, my dad had taken advantage of her and left her in trouble. Moto was mad. He wanted to track down his father and challenge him to a fight. He wanted to restore his mother’s honor.”

“Did they fight?”

“No.” I laughed. “Once my dad explained everything to him there was no reason to scrap. Moto believed him right away. The truth has a certain ring to it. I guess his mother had lied to him about a lot of things to him growing up. My dad told him he could stay with us if he liked. He was like fifteen years old at the time and didn’t speak much English. We got him a tutor and he did really well. He always was a fast learner. We adopted him on his sixteenth birthday and made it official.”

“Were you happy to have a big brother?”

“I was a little weirded out at first,” I confessed. “My friends kept giving me a hard time about him. He was kinda odd the first year, but I guess that was just a cultural issue.”

“What turned things around?”

“He saved me from getting beaten up one day after school.”

“Like the way you saved me back on the base?”

“Pretty much,” I said, nodding my head. “He didn’t have any friends in his own grade so he used to follow me around. He said he was practicing his ninja stealth skills.”

“Cool.” Benji smiled.

“I didn’t think so at the time,” I admitted. “Then I got jumped by these older kids from middle school one day. He came out of nowhere. It was like he literally appeared out of thin air. One minute I was getting pummeled and the next he was there, fists moving so fast I couldn’t keep track of them. After that we got along much better.”

“So you started training with him?”

“Believe it or not, I didn’t,” I confessed. “It wasn’t until later when I got older that I realized what a valuable resource he was. I guess part of being a kid is taking things for granted.”

“Did everyone call him Moto or is that your nickname for him?”

“Oh yeah,” I said. “I almost forgot the point of this story. So his name was Yasho Ishimoto when he came to live with us. My dad had it legally changed to Patrick Macnamara when we adopted him, but by then I had gotten used to calling him Moto. He liked the nickname. He said it allowed him to keep a part of his identity. He was proud to take his father’s last name, but he didn’t want to lose who he was in doing it. My dad was so happy to have him as a son. We hadn’t been doing too well since my mom died. Moto changed all that. Suddenly my dad was like a new man, not just to Moto but to me as well.”

“Why?” Benji asked.

“I think he saw a lot of my mom in me,” I said. “He never said it, but that’s my guess. He loved her so much that just looking at me hurt him. When Moto came, it gave us a chance to be a family again. Instead of focusing on what he lost in life, on Jane or Aiko or my mom, he could put all his energies into us. Suddenly we were going camping and hunting and to big sporting events. Moto gave him an excuse to do all that stuff, you know — to show him how Americans lived, but I think my dad loved getting a second chance.”

“That’s an amazing story,” Benji said. “And you’ve been close to your brother ever since?”

“Yep,” I said. “I trust him with my life. He’s about the only person left I can say that about.”

“I hope you can say that about me one day then,” Benji said with a smile.

“I’m sure that day will come, little man,” I assured him.

“Can we pull over? I need to go to the bathroom.”

“One or two?” I asked.

“One,” he said tentatively. “I think . . .”

“I know what you mean,” I said. “We’ve been in the car a long time. I’ll tell you what. The sign said we are almost to the 101 split. We can pull over when we get to the coast and go on the beach.”

“I’m not going to make it that far,” he warned me.

“Why didn’t you say something before then?” I tried to hide my annoyance but I was too tired.

“It just kinda crept up on me,” he said defensively.

“Fine,” I said. “We’ll take this next exit. But you better keep your eyes peeled. If you so much as think you see a zombie, we’re flipping around and you’re holding all the way to Ventura.”

He nodded, holding his pants and squirming. I pulled the battered truck down the off ramp and toward a side road that ran parallel with the highway. In the distance, the first rays of sunlight were starting to come up.

Chapter Thirteen

We drove down a small street that dead ended at a private school. It had a huge field and a large parking lot full of cars.

“What is this place?” Benji asked in surprise.

“Looks like one of those fancy schools for kids whose parents are extremely rich,” I blandly commented.

“Why are there so many cars?”

“I don’t know. It’s a bad sign though.”

“It is?” Benji turned to me in surprise.

“Cars mean people,” I explained. “So where did they go?”

“Maybe they’re hiding in the school,” he suggested. “Like a commune. Maybe they’ve stockpiled their resources and are surviving until help comes.”

“Maybe,” I said. “And maybe they’re all zombies now. Maybe the whole place is crawling with hungry, undead monsters just waiting for us to walk through those doors so they can snack on us.”

Benji swallowed hard. “Do you think so?”

“I don’t know. We have to be careful.” I turned the truck around and pointed it back toward the way we’d come. If things did go bad, I was planning on driving back up the off ramp rather than looking for the freeway entrance.

I put it in park, set the brake, rolled the window down, and got out. Benji followed me. I could feel pins and needles shooting through the lower half of my body. We’d been traveling for so long I hadn’t noticed that my legs had fallen asleep. I grimaced as I forced myself to walk them back to normal.

“Are you just going to leave it running?” Benji asked.

“It’s not like anyone is going to steal it,” I said, immediately regretting my choice of words. Now if someone came running out of the bushes and took off in the truck, I would feel like a total moron.

I shook the feeling off. More than likely if we saw someone they’d already be dead. Stealing the truck would be the last thing on their agenda, right after eating us alive and picking their teeth with our tasty bones.

“Besides,” I continued, “I’m not so sure it will start up again if we kill the engine.”

“It’s barely hanging on,” Benji agreed.

“Right. So this way if something happens we can run back and jump in the truck and take off right away. Worst case scenario is you lock yourself in and take off without me.”

The large American flag above us whipped freely in the wind, drawing our attention.

“I’m scared,” Benji said.

“I’m here,” I said, drawing out my blade. “Let’s just get this over with as quickly as we can.”

We walked slowly up to the front of the school and opened the doors. The hallways were empty upon first inspection. Part of me wanted to walk around the school, do a full sweep of the grounds, but the urgency to go to the bathroom overwhelmed me. Inside the hallway were doors clearly marked Men and Women. I walked cautiously to the end of the hall. Peering around the corner, I found both sides empty.

“Do you see anything?” Benji whispered. He was nearly dancing around now and holding his pants at the crotch.

“Looks clear,” I said. I pushed open the bathroom door and checked under the stalls. The place was deserted.

“Hurry,” Benji said, now literally hopping back and forth.

“Okay. Do your business but don’t waste any time. I’ll keep watch outside the door. If you hear me yell, you pull up your pants and get out of there. Got it?”

“Got it,” Benji said, pushing past me and running into the stall. I shut the door to give him some privacy. The hallways were eerily quiet. I understood that we were basically in the middle of nowhere but it didn’t make sense to see all those cars just sitting out front.

Maybe there was a football game or something, I thought. Maybe they parked their cars and took a bus to a sporting event.

Looking back toward the way we came in, I noticed a huge cross hanging above the door.

It’s a Christian school, I thought. Maybe they were all raptured.

A loud flush quickly pulled me back to reality. I heard the water go on in the bathroom as Benji washed his hands. I propped the door open.

“Everything okay in there?”

“Better than ever,” Benji said.

I took my turn while Benji waited outside. It was nice to have a moment’s privacy even if I was too paranoid to really enjoy it. I cleaned up and walked back out.

“I’m hungry,” Benji said when I came out.

“Well that didn’t take long,” I countered.

“Can we search the school for food?”

“Feels kind of like we’re pushing our luck.”

“Puh-leese?”

“Okay,” I said. “But at the first sign of trouble we’re high tailing it back to the truck and getting out of here. Agreed?”

“Yeah,” Benji agreed.

“If I so much as see a dead body, I am out of here.”

We set off into the school at a snail’s pace. It was just too much to believe there was no one there. We searched all the classrooms, but all I found was a flask of whiskey in one of the teacher’s desk drawers.

We ended up in the teacher’s lounge. I opened the fridge but knew the minute the door swung open there was nothing edible in there anymore. It smelled horrible, like a pile of rotting tuna fish sandwiches.

“What about the cafeteria?” Benji asked as I gagged and shut the door. “Or maybe some of the vending machines?”

“Good idea,” I agreed.

We popped a couple of the machines on our way and grabbed handfuls of junk food. Both times I waited to see if the sound of breaking glass would attract anyone, but there was nothing. So far as I could tell, we truly were all alone.

The cafeteria had a bunch of frozen food that had gone bad. There were tins of dried pasta and sauce but we’d have to cook them and I wasn’t comfortable sitting in one place that long, even if we could get a fire going.

“What about these?” Benji pointed to two large tins that read FRUIT COCKTAIL on the side.

“They’re better than nothing,” I said.

We rummaged around and found a can opener then peeled the top off one. I grabbed a ladle and Benji used a wooden spoon. We sat down and ate the sugary concoction of peaches, pears, and cherries without conversation. When we were both too full to take another bite, I stood up and turned on the water. It was cold but clean. I rinsed my face and gulped down several refreshing handfuls. Benji followed my lead. I could feel the life returning to me.

“Did you ever think you’d be so happy to eat canned fruit?” Benji asked. We both laughed.

Then I heard something and I froze in place. Benji saw the look on my face and turned his body toward the door. I motioned for him to stay still. We sat there for a while, not making a sound.

“What is it?” he whispered.

“I don’t know,” I said. “It sounds like a radio picking up static.”

I took out my sword and held it in front of me as I walked toward the sound. Behind the kitchen was a small hallway leading to the gymnasium. The doors were closed. There was a smell in the air that reminded me of an old campfire that had burned out. I held my hand out to signal Benji to stop. He froze dead in his tracks. Leaning over, I peeked into the gym through a window in the closed doors. I lowered my sword when I saw the bodies spread out on the floor.

“What is it?” Benji asked.

“I found the people,” I said cheerlessly. I tried the door but it was locked. “Stand back.”

Benji stood against the wall and I kicked the doors several times to try to get them open. They held fast together despite my best efforts. Loud booming sounds echoed down the hallway with each kick.

If there are any zombies here, they’ll know right where to find us now, I thought.

I gave the door one last kick with everything I had in me. It popped open and the stench of the dead bodies hit me full in the face. I fell over and threw up sticky peaches in syrupy nectar. Benji helped me back to my feet.

“The smell doesn’t bother you?”

“I’m used to it,” Benji said. “I mean, as much as anyone can ever get used to it. What happened here?”

We walked into the room, stepping over the bodies of whole families—parents and kids alike. Their faces were purple and swollen and their eyes bulged horribly out of their heads.

I found the radio and shut it off. In the middle of the room were the remains of a large fire and several empty bags of charcoal. I knew what had killed these people.

“Carbon monoxide poisoning,” I reasoned.

“What?” Benji asked. “How did that happen?”

“They tried to light a fire in here,” I noted. “I don’t know if they were planning on cooking or just trying to stay warm. With no ventilation, it didn’t take long to kill them.”

“How is that possible? This place is huge!”

“It doesn’t take much,” I said. “We used to do a lot of camping. One time this old couple next to us in the campground put their barbeque away under their trailer, thinking the coals were extinguished. They went to bed with their windows closed because it was cold. The coals reignited in the middle of the night. The fumes came up through the floor boards and killed them in their sleep. They looked just like this when the paramedics showed up to take them away the next day.”

“How’d they know to look for them?”

“Ranger found them,” I said. “Came around to collect the campground fees and when they didn’t answer he got nervous. I guess he could smell something funny. Smelled just like this.”

“Is it safe to be in here?” Benji looked around nervously.

“Yeah,” I said. “It is now. They look like they’ve been dead for a while. That’s why there are so many cars in the parking lot. They probably came here to wait out Z-Day together thinking there would be safety in numbers. They were listening to the radio for updates. More than likely they just got ready for bed and went to sleep but never woke up.”

I glanced around until I found a well dressed man. I bent down and rummaged through his pockets, pulling out a set of car keys with an alarm.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting us a new ride,” I said. “Thanks, buddy.”

We headed back outside toward the parking lot. There was still no sign of life anywhere, but I was less worried now. If zombies had been here they’d already discovered there was no food for them. It wasn’t likely they’d be drawn back by the smell of two random teenagers over the scent of two hundred plus rotting corpses. I held the keys up in the air and pressed the alarm over and over. Finally a dirty black Cadillac Escalade chirped.

“Let’s hope the battery still has some juice left in it,” I said as we hurried over to it in excitement. I hopped in to the plush leather interior and shoved the key into the ignition. Instantly, it came to life. I felt like fighting back tears as the air conditioning hit my face on full. Benji climbed around in the backseat.

“Look at this,” he said, holding up cans of energy drinks.

Turning around I saw that there were cases of water, energy drinks, and diet soda.

“Nice going,” I said. Benji smiled. “You leave anything in the truck?”

“Just that Metallica tape,” Benji said.

“This thing has a six disc CD player in it,” I said. “It’s not going to do us any good.”

We drove back out the way we came and got back on the highway. There were no signs of life along the way and I was grateful. Despite being knocked-out tired, it felt good to be in a luxury vehicle instead of that broken down truck. Benji grabbed us both a couple of sugar free Red Bull’s and we knocked them back as fast as we could. I tried turning on the stereo, but it just kept telling me the GPS couldn’t find the satellite so I shut it off. I was definitely going to miss that Metallica tape.

In less than ten minutes we turned onto the 101 Freeway and made our way down to the sparkling ocean. I noticed we only had a half a tank of gas. That bothered me. The Escalade was a real gas guzzler. There was no way we were going to make it to Hueneme without stopping to refuel. I wasn’t sure I would make it much longer without sleep, Red Bull or no Red Bull.

“So what’s the plan?” Benji asked.

“I’m thinking we should try to stop in Santa Barbara. Look for gas and food.”

“Jackson is from Santa Barbara,” he said.

“Oh yeah?” I thought he was just making conversation.

“He’s got a mansion on the beach,” Benji said. “I saw it in People magazine. It’s in an exclusive gated community. The whole neighborhood is probably deserted.”

It’s not a half bad idea, I thought. Rich areas would have loads of supplies and weapons. Who knows? Maybe we can even clean up and take turns sleeping.

“Do you think you can remember how to get there?” I asked as Benji’s eyes went wide with excitement.

“Sure I can,” he said. “This is gonna be awesome!”

Benji could barely contain himself the rest of the way. We made good time passing through Gaviota and Isla Vista without incident, and saw only a few stalled and empty cars. In Buellton I was tempted to stop for gas but saw zombies milling about in the weeds near the side of the road and knew it was too risky. Benji saw them too but he didn’t say anything. We were both beyond exhausted.

They look just like migrant workers from the fields, I thought. Only I know no one works the land anymore. For a minute it made me think of how good things used to be. We never really appreciated it until it was all gone. We were always looking for something better, the new thing to get into. Now I’d give anything to just have things go back to the way they used to be—even for one day!

The canyons winding down to Santa Barbara were idyllic and empty. We pulled into town and Benji guided me off the freeway and up a hill to an area with a cliff that overlooked the ocean. We made a couple of loops through the abandoned area looking for the entrance to the neighborhood where Benji’s idol lived. It was like the world had never ended. We were just two exhausted kids looking for a rock star’s mansion so we could get an autograph. Eventually, we found the gates that led to his small plot of heaven.

“This is it,” Benji said confidently.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“No doubt about it,” he replied.

The electricity was out on the call box. We had to leave the Escalade behind and go on foot, climbing over the fence. It made me uneasy to be on foot out in the open. You never knew when you were going to be cornered by a small horde of flesh eaters.

A lot of these homes are only used in the summer, I told myself. Rich people buy them for the real estate investment and then they sit here unused all year long. What a waste.

Benji led us down a curving side street to a house with a large metal gate with the Ever Rest band logo on the front. This was Jackson’s mansion. No mistaking it. I laced my fingers together and helped Benji over the wall by letting him step into my hands and boosting him up and over. Slinging my katana on my back, I scaled the bricks on the side of the gate and swung myself up. The front door was locked and I sure didn’t feel like trying to bash it in.

We walked around the side and into the backyard. There was an infinity pool that appeared to run off into the ocean. Benji sat down on some of the patio furniture and began taking his shoes off. He had blisters covering both sides of his feet, but nothing too serious.

“You wanna check the house before we relax?”

“I’m really tired,” Benji said. “I think the Red Bull is wearing off.”

“That and the adrenaline,” I said.

“I just want to dip my feet in the pool.” He sounded defeated. “Catch my breath for a second.”

“That sounds like a great plan,” I said, yanking off my boots and peeling off my socks. I rolled up my jeans until they were well past my knees, then waded onto the top step of the pool. The temperature was already rising outside and the cool of the water felt decadent against my feet and calves. Benji hurriedly rolled up his pants and joined me, letting out a satisfied sigh as his feet went under.

“That’s amazing,” he said, breathing out the words like a long, relaxed sigh.

“Yeah,” I said, staring across at the ocean. “And the view doesn’t hurt either.”

“Can you imagine living like this?”

“Lifestyles of the rich and famous,” I chirped in my best British accent, trying to sound like Robin Leach.

“I’m not saying he didn’t earn it,” Benji added quickly, wanting to preserve the image he had of his favorite musician. “It’s just epic. I wonder how many famous people he’s had in this pool?”

Benji’s words trailed off. We sat in silence for a long time, splashing water with our feet, thinking about the perfect life that Jackson Everrest had once lived and knowing in our hearts that this was only a tiny part of it.

“It’s getting hot,” I said, standing up again.

Benji didn’t budge. He stared defiantly at me as if to say he had no intention of leaving.

I unbuckled my belt and took my pants off. I folded them in a ball and set them off on the grass, along with my sword and my shirt. Without further warning I jumped into the pool in just my boxers, making a loud splash. At first there was the shock of being fully submerged in cool water, but it quickly changed to bliss.

“I can’t believe you did that!” Benji stood up and was yelling at me. My impromptu cannonball had sprayed him good. He had water dripping from his hair and all down his shirt.

“You’re free to get me back,” I said. “Unless you’re too chicken?”

Benji peeled off his clothes down to his boxers as fast as he could then jumped in, narrowly missing me with his feet. We got into a loud, splashing contest for about five minutes that ended with us both laughing hysterically. It was great having him around. In a lot of ways he had become like my kid brother.

“Truce,” I said.

“No way,” Benji replied with another hand splash aimed at my face. “I win!”

“Okay,” I said. “Don’t be a spaz. You win.”

The chlorine was burning my eyes. I closed and wiped them, trying to restore my vision.

“Xander?” Benji’s voice sounded strange but I couldn’t see him. That last shower of water had gotten me good.

“Hold on a minute, Benji,” I said. “I think I got something in my eyes.”

I swam under the surface of the pool and opened my eyes. I loved the way it felt to be fully submerged in the water—like I was floating. When I came up, I saw Benji standing in the shallow end with his hair dripping water all over himself and his hands thrust high in the air. Just past him on the patio was a very familiar looking teenage girl pointing a shotgun straight at him.

“Who are you people and what do you want?” she said, turning from Benji to me.

I held my hands up and smiled. I couldn’t help it. The girl threatening to kill us if we didn’t give an answer that she liked was none other than Felicity Jane.

Chapter Fourteen

“What are you smiling about?” she fumed, turning on me.

“Nothing,” I said. “I just wasn’t expecting . . .”

“What?” she said fiercely, fear in her voice. “A girl with a shotgun?”

“A celebrity. I mean a reality television star. Guess we’re all on our own version of reality TV now.”

“If you’re trying to convince me not to shoot you,” she said, cocking her head to the side, “you are doing a really bad job.”

“I’m Xander. And this is Benji.”

“Are you stalking me? Is that why you’re here?”

“A little full of yourself,” I scoffed, “aren’t you? We didn’t even know you’d be here so how could we be stalking you?”

“Then why are you here?” She waved the gun around, aiming first at me and then at Benji.

“Could you put that thing down?” I was starting to get ticked off. “Please, before you hurt someone.”

“Not until you explain what you’re doing here.”

“Okay,” I said. “No need to go psycho on us.”

“Start talking,” she threatened, turning the gun fully at me.

“We’re heading south to Hueneme. Our place got overrun by a zombie horde. We’ve had a really crazy couple of days on the road. We just need a place to relax and recharge.”

“So why did you come here?”

“Benji is a big fan of Ever Rest,” I explained. “He remembered the location from a magazine article he read. We thought this area would be less populated, meaning fewer zombies to fight off. Most of these rich people don’t even live in these mansions full time anyway.”

“We never thought anyone would actually still be here,” Benji added.

Felicity lowered the shotgun at last. A puzzled look came over her face. “Hueneme?” She scratched her head. “I don’t get it.”

“His brother is a big shot in the armed forces,” Benji said. “He’s stationed there.”

“We had some trouble coming down,” I said. “We’re exhausted. If we could just sleep for a while, maybe rummage for some supplies, we’ll be on our way.”

She stared at us for a minute, thinking.

“We’ll have to ask Jax, but I’m pretty sure he won’t mind. He has more than enough rooms, even for uninvited guests.” She practically hissed the last part of the sentence.

“Jackson is here?” Benji’s mouth hung open in surprise.

“Yeah, but he’s sick. I wouldn’t get your hopes up that he’ll perform a personal concert for you.” Sarcasm dripped from every word as she spoke.

At least she’s not pointing a shotgun at us anymore, I thought.

“You said he’s sick. Be honest. Is he infected?” I asked.

She turned her full rage on me. “No he isn’t,” she practically screamed. “He’s just sick. Okay?”

“Okay,” I said, holding my hands up for fear she might shoot me. “Chill out. We’re your guests. Be cool.”

“Then act like guests instead of intruders. You can start by getting dressed.”

“Um,” I said, looking a little lost.

“What is it now?”

“We didn’t really bring towels to this pool party.”

“You were just planning on drying out in the sun?”

“Actually, we were so happy to see a clean pool we didn’t really think much at all,” Benji said, jumping in and saving me.

Instantly Felicity softened. Benji has that affect on people. Yet again, I was really glad he was with me.

“I’ll get you some,” she offered. But then she turned and glared at me like I was an enemy. “Wait here.”

She walked back into the mansion leaving us alone.

“Dude,” Benji said. “I can’t believe it’s actually her!”

“I know,” I confided. “I can’t believe how mean she is in real life. This was not what I was expecting at all.”

“What is it with you two?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s like on one level you’re both fighting and saying rude things to each other,” Benji began, “and then on another level something else is going on.”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” I said. “I think the sleep deprivation is getting to you. Quiet, here she comes.”

Felicity came back with large, ultra fluffy towels that smelled like roses. It was like we had died and gone to heaven. Benji and I quickly toweled off and redressed, ditching our boxers and going commando while they dried out in the sun. When we were back in our jeans, Felicity led us into the house. There was a large kitchen with huge windows that looked out onto the ocean and pool. To the side of that was a huge living room with several big flat screen television sets and a couple of super comfy looking couches. There were pictures of lightning striking the ocean hanging all over the walls. They looked like the ones people used to sell prints of at the mall, only fancier because they were real. In the middle of the room were several guitars and an amp, right next to a video game console.

“Follow me,” Felicity said, leading us down a long hallway deeper into the house. Platinum albums with sales numbers in glass cases lined the walls, along with pictures of Jackson with famous people like former President Bill Clinton and Bono. We passed a couple of guest rooms with the doors barely cracked. There was also a small, normal looking office and a studio space.

“That’s his private studio, but believe it or not he usually writes in the living room.”

Felicity Jane is playing tour guide for us as she takes us to meet Jackson Everrest, I mused. Maybe we died back in New Lompoc. It would make more sense. I’m sitting in the truck with a bullet from Tank’s gun in my head, bleeding to death right now while ravenous zombies tear me apart and Benji screams bloody murder. There is no way I am actually here!

“How many people are staying with you?” Benji asked, snapping me out of my twisted fantasy.

“It’s just Jax and me right now,” Felicity said.

“Are you dating?” Benji looked up at her innocently and she smiled. I was glad he asked. I was just as curious about that as he was, but after the way she took everything I said wrong I didn’t plan on asking her myself.

“No.” She laughed. “Jax is a close friend, like a brother.”

“Does he know he’s in the friend zone?” I asked, trying to be funny. I regretted saying it even before she turned her head and gave me an evil glare—a glare that felt like she had physically punched me in the guts.

“Jax can date anyone he wants,” she said. “Our relationship is special because we’ve never tried to be anything more than friends. Just because I’m an emancipated minor doesn’t change the fact that I am sixteen and he is twenty-four. Why am I explaining all this to you?”She threw her hands up in disgust.”I don’t owe you anything.”

“I’m sorry,” I confessed. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I am really tired and I was just trying to be funny. I’m an idiot. Please forgive me.”

She fought back tears. I had hit a real nerve but I couldn’t see why. I really needed to learn to keep my trap shut. Felicity Jane was one of the few celebrities I’d had a crush on and now that I was finally meeting her in person, I couldn’t seem to stop putting my foot in my mouth.

“I didn’t mean to snap at you,” she said. “I shouldn’t take my stress out on you. You gotta understand that you are the first living people I’ve talked to other than Jackson since Z-Day happened.”

“You don’t need to apologize to us,” I said, cautiously reaching out and putting my hand on her shoulder to comfort her. “We came barging in unannounced and I have been kind of a jerk. I promise I will mind my manners from here on out. No more excuses.”

She laughed as tears streaked down her face.

“You have been kind of a jerk,” she said, wiping her face. “Thanks for that.”

Benji looked back and forth from her to me like a confused dog. To be honest, I didn’t really know what was going on either. I just stood there awkwardly with my hand on her shoulder for too long. I stepped back to give her some space and she took a deep breath.

“I’ve gotta check on him first,” Felicity said. “Hang back and wait for me to call you in. Okay?”

“Got it,” I answered.

Felicity opened the large doors at the end of the hallway. Inside, it was dark and cool. I could make out a huge bed but not much else. The sound of the ocean was mixed with some kind of chanting coming from somewhere inside the room. She left the door cracked slightly as she went in. It seemed strange just standing there, but I was determined not to do anything else to set her off.

Eventually she came back, stepping out and shutting the door behind her. Benji looked crushed.

“He says you can stay as long as you like. There are guest rooms you can sleep in. Most of them have clothes in them. You’re welcome to help yourself to whatever you need, including food and water from the kitchen.”

“Do you have hot running water?”

“No,” she said. “We still get cold water from the faucet and it’s clean, for now. The toilets still flush, but there is no way to know how long that will last. It’s not like someone is working at the sewage plant anymore. I think we’re just lucky that most of this neighborhood is abandoned, like you said.”

“What about drinking water?”

“Jackson has a huge supply,” she explained. “We moved it to the kitchen after things quieted down.”

“From where?” I asked.

“From the panic room,” she pointed out. “We were in there for over a week. Once the electricity went out, we decided to get out. They say you can’t get stuck in there but your mind starts to play tricks on you in small spaces like that.”

“You must be running pretty low on supplies.”

“Not really,” she said. “Jackson was raised Mormon.”

“I knew that,” Benji said, proud of himself.

“I don’t get it,” I said. “What does that mean?”

“It means he kept a stockpile of food and water hidden in the house,” she said. “Mormons believe in being prepared for the end of the world. They will probably play a role in rebuilding the country if the military ever gets things under control. Jackson left the church when he was fifteen but old habits die hard, as they say.”

I was growing more tired by the second. Now that I knew we could actually relax and rest, it was like my body was rebelling against me.

“What do you do about lighting? What I mean is, do you use candles?” I yawned. I didn’t feel like waking up in pitch black in an unfamiliar place, even if it was a mansion.

“Sometimes,” she said. “If it’s overcast. The stars provide a lot of light, believe it or not. We have a backup generator that’s capable of providing plenty of electricity, but Jackson doesn’t like to use it at night. He’s worried that light will bring looters or zombies.”

“That’s actually really smart,” I said.

“You look exhausted.”

“I am.”

“Go ahead and crash out,” Felicity suggested. “We can talk more when you get up.”

I was happy to have an excuse to go lie down. I was almost feeling dizzy.

“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll take this room.” I cracked open the door to see that it was beach-themed with soft shades of blue.

“You gonna crash with your brother?” Felicity asked Benji.

“He’s not my real brother,” Benji said.

Thanks kid, I thought. Throw me under the bus to the hot celebrity chick.

“Okay then,” she said with a smirk. “How about your own room?”

“Thanks again,” I said, making eye contact with Felicity. She held it for a second too long then pulled away.

“It’s not a problem,” she countered. “I’ll get him set up. Go to sleep.”

“Promise me you’ll wake me up right away if anything happens,” I said fiercely.

“I will,” she replied casually. “Don’t worry. Like I said, you’re the first people to set foot on the property since the zombie outbreak—living or dead. We’re safe here.”

Even though I had no way of verifying her words, they made me feel better. I shut and locked the door.

I checked the closets and under the bed, making sure they were all clear. I checked the bedroom window. It was high. If someone wanted to get in that way they’d have to break it and climb in at chest height. I’d have plenty of time to defend myself.

I locked the window carefully then set my sword by the side of the bed. After what happened in New Lompoc, I wanted it within easy reaching distance. We really were lucky to get out of that place in one piece.

Far luckier than the twins, I dismally remembered.

I sat on the bed and looked around the room. It was quiet. Almost too quiet. I was overly tired and anxious and excited by everything that had happened. The last thing I remembered thinking was that I didn’t know if I’d be able to fall asleep. I woke up briefly some time later, on top of the bed in my clothes, fingers touching my katana. I took my shirt off, rolled over, and fell back asleep. If I dreamed at all, I don’t remember it.

I woke up a few hours later, feeling calm and refreshed. It was still dead quiet outside. I put my shirt back on, grabbed my blade, and opened the door. The sun hadn’t quite gone down yet but the light coming down the hallway had that golden quality to it that suggested we weren’t far from night. I could hear the sound of music and voices mixed with laughing. I walked out, rubbing my eyes.

“Hey, sleepy head,” Felicity greeted me. She seemed in a much better mood. Light danced in her sea green eyes as she stared at me.

Maybe she got some sleep too, I thought as she asked me how I slept.

“Like the dead,” I said.

“That’s either the best joke in the world or the worst pun,” said a guy’s voice to my left. I turned to see Jackson Everrest standing and holding a toy guitar in his hands, smiling amicably. He didn’t look sick at all. Benji was next to him, smiling. It took me a second to realize they were playing Guitar Hero, one of my favorite video games of all time. Jackson was actually a character in one of the latest versions. If you got to the highest level you had to battle him to complete the stage.

“Thanks for letting us crash here,” I said, trying to play it cool.

“Well it’s not like I had a choice, did I?” For a moment I thought he might be mad that we had let ourselves in after all. “We the living have to stick together now. No more ‘mine and yours.’ We have to work together if we’re going to survive.”

I let out a huge sigh of relief at the words. He really is cool, I thought. Imagine that.

“You actually play Guitar Hero?” I asked, changing the subject.

“I love this game,” Jackson said. “Have you ever played it?”

“I have,” I said, laconically.

“Are you any good?”

“I’ve cleared the game once before,” I said, trying to sound modest. You don’t just brag about your fake guitar skills to one of the world’s most legendary guitar soloists of all time. “I assume you shred at it.”

“Believe it or not I’m just mediocre at the game,” Jackson said. “I’ve talked to other musicians who have the same problem. Playing buttons is totally different than playing strings. I do okay though. Benji here has been giving me a run for my money. Wanna give it a go?”

No way, I thought. One of Rolling Stone’s top ten guitarists of all time just challenged me to a game of Guitar Hero in his living room. I can’t believe this is happening!

“Sure.” I shrugged, trying to keep my cool even though my heart was racing in my chest harder than if a hundred zombies were chasing me. “I’ll give it a shot.”

Benji gave me his fake guitar controller and I slid the strap over my neck. They’d already unlocked most of the levels so we selected intermediate play and I started playing some Slipknot. Benji’s character had been the girl with the pigtails in the pink skirt. I didn’t bother to change it, odd as it was. Jackson had selected himself.

Fitting enough, I thought as I made short work of the song, racking up extra points with the glowing blue notes and the whammy bar.

Jackson had a little more trouble than I expected. He missed a bunch of notes in a row. Then again he had been sick, according to Felicity.

When we polished off Slipknot, we played some Metallica and then Black Sabbath. At that point I could see that it wasn’t just feeling under the weather that was holding Jackson back. He had serious timing issues hitting the buttons. What was going on?

I can’t believe I’m beating Jackson at Guitar Hero, I thought. This just doesn’t seem possible. I tried not to focus on it too much for fear it would distract me. I could see him getting frustrated that he wasn’t doing better at the game. He tried to hide it, like when he missed a note he’d turn and play it off like he was distracted, or start telling us a story from when he was on tour.

“Ozzy’s tour manager worked with us on the Australian leg of our last world tour,” he said, when he missed a bunch of notes in a row on Paranoid. “Great guy. Real solid.”

We reached the battle stage of the rock legends version. That meant we had to play against the computer’s choice for us to advance to the last level of the game and win. The guitarists included Dave Navarro, Joe Satriani, Jimmy Hendrix, Slash, Carlos Santana, Jimmy Page, Jack White, and last but not least, Jackson Everrest. I was randomly matched up against Hendrix. Luckily I had played against Hendrix before. I matched him note for note on Purple Haze for the first part of the song and did a decent job keeping up the rest of the way through. It was enough to advance, but just barely.

“Not bad,” Jackson complimented me. “If they ever figure out how to turn these things into real instruments you’ll have a smashing future.”

“Thanks,” I said, setting the plastic guitar down and taking a seat on the couch next to Benji.

I hadn’t noticed while I was playing, but Felicity had moved closer and was watching us both intently. I turned to look directly at her and she looked away toward Jackson, trying to pretend she hadn’t been looking. Her nacre skin seemed so soft and white, like light from the moon was glowing off her. Her hair fell in bright red vibrant curls against her neck, standing out in shocking contrast. I got the feeling she could sense I was staring at her so I looked away quickly, trying to pretend I was yawning.

The computer began to shuffle through the remaining guitarists, looking for a match for Jackson. All the characters whooshed past at once until one was left—Jackson Everrest.

“This is like a nightmare,” the real Jax said. “Like an evil computer version of myself come to life to torment me. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck!” Benji practically shouted.

Even though it was one of his biggest hits, My Soul to Take, Jackson seemed to have trouble with it from the start. He needed to switch fingers to hit the lower keys and his timing was really off. He quickly grew frustrated as his artificial avatar blazed through the notes effortlessly while he kept getting loud reverb clangs from hitting the plastic keys too late. He cursed and spat on his own floor. No one said anything. During the long guitar solo he stopped and took the controller off altogether, giving up. I looked over at Benji who could barely hold in his surprise.

“It’s a stupid game anyway,” Jackson vented in frustration. “I don’t know why I keep messing with it.”

The screen flashed the words YOU LOSE as the avatar Jackson flicked his pick at us and threw up a devil finger salute.

“Jackson,” Felicity said calmly, “it’s okay. It’s just a game.”

“I know,” he said, reaching over and flicking on his guitar amp. He picked up a black Les Paul from the stands near the console and plugged it in. He put his foot on the amp and rested the bottom of the guitar on the top of his thigh. “Can a game teach you this?”

Jackson ripped into a guitar solo filled with racing notes and mind melting progressions. Benji’s jaw literally fell wide open. I’m pretty sure mine did too. It was far beyond anything we could possibly have imagined. Jackson looked up at us and laughed out loud.

“You really are fans?” A satisfied smile spread across his face before we could nod in reply.

Was Jackson really begging for our attention by putting on a private show for us in his living room? I didn’t have to ask because before we could answer him he began laying into the instrument again, giving it all he had. The sounds coming out of it were unreal and we were transported into his world. His hands moved so fast, they almost seemed to blur. He was like a guitar god! He finished and Benji and I wildly began to applaud him. The look on his face said it all. His ego was just getting a taste of what it really wanted.

“You want more?”

Benji practically leaped to his feet in response. I turned to look at Felicity. She looked slightly annoyed that Jackson was acting up for attention. I shot her a look that was somewhere between ‘I told you so’ and ‘what can you do?’ She let out a heavy sigh, like the whole weight of the world was on her shoulders. This wasn’t just her being upset that Jax was showing off. This was something deeper, something not visible on the surface.

“That was amazing,” I said, standing up.

Jackson stopped playing mid-song and turned to me. Benji just stared with his mouth hanging open like a prize bass. A quick glance down told me that Felicity had to stifle back a laugh with the back of her hand. I had just been shown what Jax could really do.

“I hope you don’t mind me interrupting, but I wanted to rinse off and get cleaned up before dark. The sun is almost all the way down and I heard you’re not partial to indoor lighting. A wise decision, I might add, but one that leaves me pressed for time.”

“Of course,” Jackson said, setting his guitar down. Benji shot me an angry look for interrupting our personal once-in-a-lifetime concert. “The guest bathroom is three doors down the hallway on the right. There should still be towels in there. I haven’t had any company since the maid was last here, other than the lovely Felicity Jane.”

“Awesome,” I said, walking past him and down the hallway.

I turned on the water and was splashing my face when there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find Felicity.

“Here,” she said, handing me a thick, brown candle and a book of matches. “Just in case it gets too dark to see.”

“Thanks,” I said. She stood there a minute, like she had something else to say. She bit her lip. I was sure she was going to share a secret with me. I waited, but after she still didn’t say anything, I started getting annoyed.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she muttered. She turned and walked away. I shut and locked the door.

“Geez,” I griped out loud to myself. “What’s her problem?”

I lit the candle and shook out the match. The smell of sulfur filled the small room, making my eyes water. I blew my nose on some tissue then went to throw it away and stopped dead in my tracks. Sitting in the wastebasket was a bunch of hypodermic needles.

I leaned in to get a closer look. There were wads of cotton with what looked like dried blood on them. The realization hit me all at once—Jackson was a drug addict! That’s why he was sick. He was trying to get off heroin. Was that why Felicity was here?

I decided not to mention it to Benji. The last thing he needed to worry about was his idol being a junkie. I’d only seen stuff like this on television, but I’d heard that dope fiends were capable of anything when they were going through withdrawal.

It might not be safe to stay here long, I thought. Let’s just hope he has enough stuff to keep him high as a kite until tomorrow. We’ll have to leave soon for sure.

Chapter Fifteen

I ran a cool bath and used a hand towel to sponge away the chlorine from the pool. It wasn’t nearly as good as the hot shower I’d taken in New Lompoc, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought it might be either. For the moment we seemed to be safe. I knew that it could change at any minute, but I pushed the thought out of my mind. The recent madness and chaos and insanity taught me that it was more important than ever to hold on to the good times. You never knew how long they were going to last.

When I got back out to the kitchen, everyone was sitting around the kitchen table eating by candle light. They’d covered the windows with black sheets to cut down on the amount of light they put off.

That may be the only reason they haven’t been attacked up here yet, I thought.

Benji had opened up a can of Chef Boyardee beef ravioli and was eating right out of it with a fork. He looked more content than I had ever seen him. Jackson was picking at a bag of freeze dried ice cream, the kind we were told astronauts ate when we were little kids. I knew now why Jax wouldn’t be eating. The drugs were all he cared about. That’s how he stayed so skinny. Felicity had what looked like a plate of steaming beef fajitas with rice and beans.

“I thought you said you didn’t have gas or electricity.” I said. “How did you cook that meal?”

Felicity looked up at me and smiled.

“It’s from the food rations kit,” she explained. “Cooks in the bag, ready in under five minutes.”

“You’re kidding?” I said. “That’s amazing. It looks like real food.”

“Survival in style,” she said. “Plus all I have to do is throw out the bag when I’m done.”

“Too bad it tastes like low end fast food,” Jackson said, still picking at the chalky pink block in front of him. The fire he’d had in him earlier was steadily going out. Now he looked pale and sickly. He’d used up all his energy trying to impress us.

“Really?” I said, a grumble rolling through my stomach as if on cue. “I’d kill for some Carl’s Jr right about now.” Felicity made a face I couldn’t decipher.

“Felicity, would you please be so kind as to make our guest one of our finest meals-in-a-bag, my love?”

“I can make it,” I said. “You enjoy your food. I’m sure I can figure it out.”

Jackson dismissed me casually with a wave of his hand. I found the bags of ready-to-eat meals on the counter. They had every kind of meal I could imagine, from sweet and sour pork to beef stroganoff to lasagna. I grabbed a bag that read Jamaican Chicken and flipped it over to read the directions. It said to pour water into the top portion, seal, then pull a cord on the side and it cooked right in the bag. I took some bottled Voss off the counter and got it to work.

“There is still some soda in the fridge,” Felicity said.

“Thanks,” I said, opening the door and pulling out a two liter of Coke. Nothing in the fridge was cold.

I guess the video game console is more important than the food, I thought sarcastically. Why do they even bother to keep this stuff in the fridge if they aren’t going to keep it cool?

I grabbed my meal bag. It was now piping hot, so I pulled the top open and steam poured out along with the smell of delicious chicken.

“Grab it from the bottom,” she suggested.

It was cooler down there. I took the whole bag and my cola to the table and sat down next to Jax. I was so hungry that I dug right into my meal, not caring if I burned my tongue. The last thing we’d had to eat was the fruit cocktail back at the high school and I’d thrown up half of that.

“How is it?” Jackson asked.

“Surprisingly good for food from a bag,” I said in between bites. I was suddenly overcome with hunger. “You’re not going to eat?”

“Naw,” he said, flicking his freeze dried ice cream away from him. “I played in Jamaica once. Big benefit in Trenchtown. Home of Bob Marley and the Wailers.”

“Did you get to meet Bob Marley?” Benji asked. Felicity giggled. Jackson smiled and turned to him.

“I wish,” he said good-naturedly. “Bob Marley died before I was born.”

“Oh,” said Benji, looking embarrassed.

“You know what?” Jackson continued. “You can still feel his spirit when you walk through the streets there. He stood for love and peace and unity through music and that message is still alive today. So in a way, you can say he lives on and I did meet him there.”

Benji blushed. He had bags under his eyes. He looked almost as exhausted as Jackson.

“How long did you sleep this afternoon?” I asked.

“He didn’t,” Felicity said. “He followed me around asking questions about my career as a child actress, and whether or not I had a twin sister for when I shot Double Trouble in Acapulco like he read on some fan site. He’s got quite an active imagination.”

“How do you know if you don’t ask?” Benji looked worn out. He was getting fussy at being teased. His battery was going down. It had been a long day by any standards.

“After that, Jackson was up and feeling better,” Felicity said.

“That’s when he challenged me to a guitar battle,” Jackson said. He was starting to look green around the gills. If I hadn’t seen his trash in the bathroom I might have asked to inspect him for bite marks. “He’s got the heart of a rock star.”

Let’s just hope he never inherits any other rock star organs, I thought.

“He’s been up for almost two days now.” I gave him a worried look. “I think it’s time to get some rest. We wanna get back out on the road tomorrow.”

I expected Benji to put up a fight at the suggestion of going to bed but instead he looked relieved, as if he had been waiting for someone to order him around.

“You can use the bedroom next to the one Xander slept in,” Felicity said. “That way you will be close to each other.”

“Does it have a bathroom in it?” I asked.

“Yours does,” she said. “Why?”

“I think I broke the one in here,” I said, turning to Benji. “Don’t go in there.”

“Good night,” he said, standing up. He couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

“I think I’m going to call it a night as well,” Jackson said.

“You feeling okay?” Felicity asked with a note of fresh concern in her voice.

“Better than okay,” he said with a sad smile. “I’d say this is the best I’ve felt in years and I have you all to thank for it.”

“Thank you so much for letting us stay here,” I said, trying to show my appreciation. “It was very kind of you.”

“It’s not a problem. In a lot of ways I was waiting for you. Now I can finally relax knowing that she will be taken care of if anything happens to me.”

“You’re really sick then?”

“Nothing is going to happen to you, Jax,” Felicity said fiercely. “You are going to be fine.”

“In more ways than I can explain,” he said to me, ignoring her. He put his hand on my shoulder and stared into my eyes. “Take whatever you want. I mean it. I have more than I will ever need. I have been very blessed in this life. I never understood that before. I wasted so much time on so many useless things in this forgettable world. I wish I could do it all over again.”

“You’ve brought a lot of happiness to people all over the world with your music,” I said, and I meant it. “Kids like Benji. You have a wonderful gift.”

“They never tell you that it comes with a curse,” he said cryptically. “It was nice to meet you.” He walked over and kissed Felicity on the head. A single tear escaped from her eye and rolled down her cheek, just like the way Demi Moore soundlessly cried in movies.

“Sweet dreams, angel,” he said. “See you in the morning.”

He turned and walked out of the room, back down the long dark hallway full of awards and honors, disappearing out of sight.

“I guess that just leaves you and me,” I said. “You feeling tired?” She shook her head no. She seemed to lose all interest in her fajitas. “Me neither. Must have been the nap. What do you want to do now?”

“You don’t have to do that,” she said in a voice just above a whisper.

“Do what?”

“Act like everything is okay. I know the bathroom isn’t broken. You figured out what’s wrong with Jax. Admit it.”

“I guess I did,” I said. “The trash can was full of used needles and bloody cotton balls. It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together with that kind of evidence. You want to talk about it?”

“It’s not his fault,” she said. “Drugs are a big part of the music industry.”

“You mean like they are in Hollywood?” I didn’t know if I was stepping over the line. I hoped I didn’t sound condescending.

“Exactly. So now you know why I am here. I came here to try to help him get clean, before the zombies took over the whole world.”

“Why didn’t he just go to rehab?”

“He did,” she said, letting out a big sigh. “We met in rehab, actually. In Malibu.”

“I don’t remember you going to rehab,” I said. “What were you addicted to, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“It’s fine. I was taking prescription pills. A lot of them. It started out as a way to get through long days on the set, but before I knew it I was taking something every hour just to get by. I had several doctors giving me almost anything I asked for. I’m lucky I didn’t end up like Michael Jackson.”

“Isn’t that the kind of thing the tabloids would have a field day with? Under-age actress checking into Betty Ford?”

“My agent worked hard to keep it out of the news,” Felicity said. “She told everyone that I was suffering from exhaustion. We canceled the Disney movie I was supposed to be shooting in Fiji. She threatened to sue anyone who let it out. They wanted me to go on Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew. My mom wouldn’t have it. She said I needed to be away from the cameras, that they were part of my disease. She was right. I checked into the in-patient rehab program and stayed there without television or computer or any contact with the outside world for thirty days.”

“That doesn’t seem so long,” I said.

“It felt like an eternity,” she confessed.

“Were all the people there celebrities like you?”

“No. That’s what made it so hard. Most of them were just rich kids with drug problems caused by boredom and privilege. There were a few housewives, a CEO who snapped under the pressure and started shooting junk, and a horror author strung out on speedballs.”

“Anyone I would know?”

“Probably.” She shrugged. “I know it doesn’t really matter now but I don’t feel comfortable naming him.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Sorry. Force of habit. Go on.”

“Jackson was the only other famous person there,” she said. “The others didn’t treat us all that well, to be honest. They were pretty nasty. Detoxing off drugs can really bring out the worst in you.”

“What would they do?”

“They’d throw stuff in my face when we were holding outside sessions,” she explained. “Stuff they’d read in a magazine about my father dating girls my age, or about my little sister’s death. They’d talk about my mother and call me names, or quote lines from movies I’d been in. It got really bad. At one point I honestly wanted to kill myself.”

“That’s awful,” I said.

“It really was,” she agreed. “Jackson was the only person who treated me well. We’d sit up all night talking, just like this sometimes. He even threatened to hurt a guy who made sexual advances toward me. He was like my guardian angel.”

“Let me guess,” I said. “His drug of choice is heroin.”

She nodded. “He was doing one of those huge concert tours across America. This was before he was famous. Seven big name bands touring together. A different city every night. He was filling in for another guy who had overdosed and almost died. You’d think the band would have learned its lesson. Instead, the bassist introduced Jax to the needle just so he’d have another buddy to party with on the road. By the time he got home he was totally strung out.”

“So he checked into rehab?”

“Eventually,” she said. “He was court ordered into it after an incident down on Skid Row where he almost died trying to shake down a dealer for more dope. The guy stabbed him and left him in the gutter. Missed his kidney by about a half an inch or he would have been a goner.”

“Wow,” I said. “I never knew.”

“It’s not a story he usually tells. He claims he lay there almost bleeding to death for a long time. He doesn’t remember much except waking up in an ambulance, handcuffed to a gurney. He swears he saw my face floating above him, but I think he just says that to make me laugh. He’s a performer at heart. He’s always on, you know?”

“You got clean. So why couldn’t he?”

“I had a great support system,” she said. “People talk all this trash about my mom pushing me into Hollywood, but she’s been really great. They forget that she was a single mom with no help from my dad, trying to give me and my sister a good life. I begged her to try out for commercials when I was a kid. She didn’t push me in any way. If it were up to her, I would have stayed in school like a normal kid.”

“The tabloids really make it seem the other way,” I agreed.

“After I got out of rehab, no one would hire me,” she said. “They said I was an insurance risk, like I was going to eat a bottle of Tylenol in my trailer and overdose. There were some dark times when it looked like my career was over. I mean, one day I was starring in a movie with Johnny Depp and the next I was washed up.”

“I thought you said no one knew you went to rehab?”

“The media might not have known,” she said with a twisted grin, “but the studios have better people working for them. These aren’t TMZ rejects. We’re talking former police detectives and private investigators. They knew even before I checked in. When you’re spending hundreds of millions of dollars on a movie, you don’t want any risks.”

“Is that how you ended up on reality television?”

“Pretty much,” she admitted. “My agent had several offers from unscripted shows and low budget horror movies. Star Dancing was the only one on prime time on a major network. It was supposed to be my comeback vehicle, but we all know how that turned out.”

I nodded. It was just when the zombie outbreak was taking off in California. Most people still thought it was only something that affected homeless people and the perpetually poor. Star Dancing was being filmed in Hollywood. Seven couples were matched up. Sports heroes from basketball and football were paired with famous writers and celebrity chefs and political pundits and movie starlets. An all-star panel of celebrity judges weighed in every week. These included a famous choreographer who had worked with Janet Jackson, as well as the stereotypical nasty celebrity with the English accent who never liked anyone.

Ewan Crowley had earned his success working with the Royal Ballet. He was both feared and loved by American audiences for his vicious attacks on the shows performers, as well as his cunning word play. It was almost impossible to earn a compliment from him. As the season wore on, his behavior grew increasingly erratic, driving ratings through the roof in the process. One week he brought a linebacker to tears with his razor sharp tirade. The next week, he scolded a national news anchor for her choice in wardrobe. Rumor was the studio executives were constantly receiving complaints about him and threats of lawsuits. He was single-handedly responsible for their ratings spike and he knew it.

So when in the final month of the contest he walked on stage during the middle of Felicity Jane’s tango performance with her partner, famous opera singer Mario Antonio Puccetti, everyone thought he was just pulling another of his stunts. That was until he severely bit Mario in the neck on live television. The video went viral overnight. Millions of people saw it, people who would never watch a show like that in the first place. A month later Z-Day was announced and shortly thereafter the internet went down.

“So you stayed in touch with Jackson after you got out?” I said, trying to change the subject. Her eyes had glossed over with the dark memory of her televised catastrophe.

“I did,” she said. “Like I told you, he was a big brother to me. He was living in Studio City, working on his own album. That’s all he did those days—just record tracks and go to meetings. I was nearby, just over the hill, so we’d go to meetings together. He got signed from those early recordings and went on to make his album.”

One of the most celebrated albums of all time, I remembered. In under a year, Ever Rest’s first album was bigger than Appetite for Destruction. Growing up, there wasn’t a kid on my block that didn’t know the lyrics to every song. We even memorized the music video and tried to recreate it at home while listening to him.

“The song Calamity Jane is actually about me,” she said with some embarrassment.

“Wow,” I replied. I was kinda at a loss for words. It was hard to imagine being part of something so massive. “So how did he end up back on drugs then? I mean, it sounds like he was doing so well without them.”

“He’s an addict.” She sighed. “Like I said, it’s a big part of the rock and roll lifestyle. There are only so many times you can turn down drugs before that little voice in the back of your head tells you that you can get away with partying just a little bit. That’s all it takes; just once and you are hooked again.”

“That’s crazy,” I said. I couldn’t relate like she could. I didn’t really understand what drove people to put poison in their bodies that would kill them. Maybe it was because I had this great family life with my dad and Moto. Maybe Jackson didn’t have that kind of constant reassurance. It just seemed nuts to throw away all the good fortune and talent he was given on getting wasted.

“I think he did it because he was lonely,” she said wistfully. “Out on the road all the time, no support system, no one to really love you. It takes its toll for sure. When he got back, he called me and confessed everything. He said he had a stash up here and that he was trying to wean himself off.”

“Why didn’t he just go back to rehab?” I asked. “It worked once. Wouldn’t it work again?”

“He thought he could do it on his own,” she said. “He was embarrassed. He had a real hard time admitting it to me. A lot of guilt and shame goes along with being an addict. It’s hard to understand if you’ve never had this kind of problem. People just think, well why doesn’t he stop using? It’s not that simple. His body is so used to the chemicals he’s been putting into his system that if he were to just go cold turkey, there’s a good chance he would die.”

“I didn’t know that,” I said. “I’ve always wondered.”

“Most people don’t realize,” she said. “Plus it’s painful. His body wants more and more and he is giving it less. That’s why he’s so sick. He was supposed to be stepping down, but then Z-Day happened and it’s not like he can just go to his dealer. He’s been using more than he’s supposed to be using, hiding it from me, and now he’s almost out.”

“I didn’t mean to pry,” I said, feeling bad now that she had to explain all this to me.

“No,” she said. “You didn’t pry. I offered. It feels good to be able to talk about this with someone. I am glad you are here.”

“Me too.”

“You wanna take a walk outside?”

“Is that really safe?”

“It has been,” she said. “Usually I just stay on the patio and look out at the ocean. It’s really pretty with the light from the moon hitting the water as the waves roll in.”

“Let’s do it,” I said, standing up.

We walked outside and sat on the patio. The moon was almost all the way full. It was huge and white, putting off a soft light illuminating everything below. Looking out over the ocean I saw what looked like a man jogging along the water’s edge. There didn’t appear to be anyone chasing him.

“What’s that?” I said, pointing at him.

“I’ve seen him down there before,” Felicity said. “Just jogging along like nothing ever happened.”

“Maybe that’s his way of trying to get back a piece of his old life.”

“I think you’re right.”

Without saying a word, she reached over and took me by the hand. We sat in silence, watching the man disappear from sight in the distance. Being with her felt easy, like being totally at home. I could see why Jackson would want her with him while he battled to get sober.

“I’m tired now,” she said after a while, standing up and stretching like a cat. “Time to go to sleep.”

I got up and we walked back inside, locking the door behind us.

“Thanks for listening.”

“No problem.” I shrugged.

She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning,” she said, walking down the hall.

I stood rooted in place for a moment, distracted by her unexpected display of affection. Slowly, I forced myself to head back down to my guest room. I locked the door and sat on the bed, daydreaming about possibilities until sleep finally took me under.

Chapter Sixteen

I remember having bad dreams all night, but couldn’t remember what they were about for the most part. Maybe it was the “Jamaican” chicken trying to fight its way back out. Maybe it was the feeling of dread that had come over me shortly after I locked myself in for the night. I tossed and turned for a while, trying to fight off a string of nasty thoughts with little success. I thought about my brother dying, about the bodies piled up at the school we visited, about Joel and Tom. No matter how hard I tried, I could not seem to calm my mind. Eventually the dark emptiness of sleep pulled me under all the way.

I had a series of overlapping, graphic dreams early in the morning before waking up. They slipped one into the next—like watching several short movies on fast forward as I fought to wake up. The last thing I remembered before getting up was running on the beach with Felicity. We were serenely holding hands while zombies in the distance surfed on huge metal pieces of a jumbo jet they’d pulled apart and taken right out of the sky, mid-flight. That part was kinda like a cool music video.

Benji was in the dream too, dressed just like a tiny version of Jackson. I was worried about him so I chased him up the beach and back into the house. He locked himself in the guest bathroom, trying to hide. I knocked down the door in time to catch him shooting heroin in his arm.

“Don’t worry about it,” he told me. “It’s just a little death to even me out.”

I looked down to where he had put the needle in and saw that the skin around the mark was dying and turning gray. Soon it began to spread up his arm and across his body until he had the same complexion as the walking dead. His eyes turned solid black and he let out a roar as he transformed all the way into a zombie. The last image I remembered was him lunging at me while I stood rooted to the ground in total shock.

I woke with a start, sweating in spite of the room being cool. The sun was up, and it had to be late. I couldn’t believe I’d actually slept in after tossing and turning all night long.

Almost immediately my dreams faded away, leaving me grasping to remember what they were. I shook my head to wake up and went out toward the living room. Benji was sitting on the sofa looking completely catatonic. It reminded me of Tom after Joel got shot.

Man, I thought. That seems like years ago instead of just days. Time is moving way too fast.

“What’s up?” I asked.

He didn’t answer me.

I heard the toilet flush and Felicity came out of the bathroom. Her eyes were red raw from crying and she still had streaks of makeup on her face. She threw herself into my arms and hugged me, sobbing so hard that her whole body shook.

“What is going on?” I asked. “Who died?”

Benji turned and glared at me. Felicity pulled away. She looked really hurt for a second, then it faded.

“Jackson killed himself last night,” she said at last.

Cold shock ran through me at the news. How could I have said something so stupid and insensitive? I was always saying or doing the wrong thing around her! I am such an idiot, I thought.

“What?” I finally asked. “I’m so sorry. Oh my God. How, I mean, why did he do it?”

She waved a piece of paper in her right hand at me. I realized it was a suicide note.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go today, I thought. I was just hoping to get up, grub down on a portable meal of hot space age blueberry pancakes, and hit the road. This definitely complicates things. It might have sounded cold but the last thing I was looking for at that point was another complication. After what happened in New Lompoc, all I wanted to do was just get to Moto’s base and settle in. The sooner I could put this madness behind me and forget about it, the better.

“He left a note,” she said.

“What does it say?” I asked, feeling lame.

“It says that he knew he wasn’t going to make it anyway and that he just wanted to go out with one last high on his own terms,” she said. “It says that he’s a coward for not trying harder and not saying goodbye but that he’s thrilled he got to spend one last night with his real fans doing what he loved, playing music. It’s beautiful and totally screwed up and I hate him so much right now for doing this, but I miss him too much to be angry.”

She burst into tears again and this time I held her close to me. I glanced over at Benji, who seemed to be just as affected by this tragedy as Felicity was. He looked up at me with the sadness of a lost child.

“It’s going to be okay,” I said to both of them. “I know this is hard but the worst is over. You’ll see.”

“Are you still planning on leaving today?” Her words were muffled as she spoke into my shoulder.

“I was, before I heard about Jackson. I just woke up so it all feels like part of my dream right now.”

“I want to go with you.”

“Of course,” I agreed. “That’s a great idea.”

“What are you going to do with Jax?” Benji looked up at us with his big puppy dog eyes swollen from tears he was fighting back. I had been wondering the same thing. Was he propped up in bed? Did he smell already? Was she sure he was even dead?

“I found him in bed,” she said as if she was reading my thoughts. “He was naked. His body was blue. He felt ice cold. His eyes were open. There was no sign of life in him at all. It just didn’t seem real, you know?”

“How long ago was this?”

“About an hour. I was going to put him in the bathtub. I don’t know why. I’m not thinking clearly right now. I just feel so crazy inside.”

“We could bury him in the yard,” I offered sympathetically.

“I thought about that,” she said, “but now I think we should just leave him where he is. After all, this is his house. He was happy here. He died happy, with friends and fans who loved him.”

“I understand,” I said softly. I wasn’t trying to be more insensitive than I already had been, but I was glad we weren’t going to spend a lot of time digging up a grave for him. I wanted to get moving as soon as we could. Plus it seemed crazy to bury him given the condition the world was currently in. There were dead bodies in various states of decay pretty much everywhere you went, some just lying there stinking and others walking around and trying to kill you. Leaving a guy dead in his own bed like he was peacefully sleeping didn’t seem so heartless when you thought about it in those terms.

“Besides,” she said, walking to the patio door and sliding it open. “I’m not sure how much time we have left here.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“See for yourself.”

I walked over to join her and what I saw blew my mind. There on the beach was a huge tanker ship with some kind of foreign writing on the side that looked Russian. Up on top of the ship I could make out twenty or thirty former humans in various states of decay ambling around. One of them fell over the side while I was watching and splashed into the ocean. Looking down, I could see a handful of zombies making their way out of the water and roaming listlessly on the sand in search of food. If the jogger went for his morning run today, he was going to be in for a big surprise!

“When did that thing get here?” I asked in near panic. I had been intending on doing some Tai Chi in the backyard and stretching before we left in the impossible hope of bringing my life back to some sense of normalcy and routine. That’s out for sure now, I thought.

“I don’t know,” she said, a little too casually for what the situation called for. “It was just there when I got up this morning. I didn’t see any zombies until an hour ago, and those were still on the top deck. Must be only a matter of time until they find their way up into the neighborhood.

Why is she being so casual? It’s not like those are fire ants coming to spoil a picnic, I thought. These are undead demons from the depths of hell, devoid of all mercy, coming to rip us to shreds in a horrible, violent death!

“We need to get out of here,” I said. “We left the Escalade at the entrance to the community near the gates. It has some gas left. We’ll figure the rest out as we go.”

“That’s not necessary,” she replied. “Jackson has a fully fueled Lexus SUV hybrid in the garage. It gets like a million miles to the gallon. He loaded it with water and two extra cans of gas after we came out of the panic room. There is even a first aid kit under the passenger seat.”

“Wow,” I said. “I’m surprised he planned an escape route. The way he acted last night was like he never planned on leaving this place, no matter what.”

“It wasn’t for him,” she explained. “It was for me. He said he wanted to make sure when the time came I could just grab food and leave. He really was the most thoughtful man I knew.”

“Benji,” I said. He turned and stared up at me again, ungluing his eyes from the floor. “Why don’t you grab some plastic bags and help Felicity pack up all these portable meals? We don’t want to leave anything behind that might be helpful on our trip. Got it?”

“Yeah,” he said, wiping tears off his face and standing up.

“What are you going to do?” Felicity asked.

“I’m going to grab my sword and check out the Lexus. Make sure it’s fired up and ready to roll with no surprises. I want to be out on the road in the next ten minutes. Who knows how long we have?”

“Okay,” she said, sounding aloof as she turned and sauntered into the kitchen. I shook off her attitude, chalking it up to grief over Jackson’s suicide.

I jogged back to the guest room and fetched my sword, then made a pit stop at the bathroom before heading off to the garage. I splashed some cold water on my face to wake myself up. There was a bottle of pills on the counter with the lid off. I picked it up and read the label. Soma. I wasn’t sure what they did but I was certain they were responsible for Felicity’s condition.

Cut her some slack man, I thought. It’s been a very traumatic morning for her by any standards.

I decided not to bring up her apparent relapse, but that didn’t mean I wanted her doped out. We might literally be running for our lives at any moment, fighting these undead monsters. The last thing I needed was a spoiled celebrity with a pill habit slowing us down because she was high and thought they looked pretty. I stuffed the rest of the bottle in my pocket and headed out to the garage.

The Lexus was fully gassed and stocked as promised, and the keys were in the ignition. I fired it up and the engine purred to life. This was a true luxury vehicle, and my heart practically sang with joy. With this car and the supplies we were bringing, there was no reason we couldn’t get to Hueneme and safety at last. I didn’t mean to get my hopes up. If the last few days had proved anything it was that things could turn out horribly different than you expected, with little or no warning at all. Still it didn’t hurt to be optimistic, did it?

“Wow,” Benji said, setting down a shiny black trash bag full of ready-to-eat gourmet meals. “It even has television screens in the back of the headrests. I wonder what’s in the DVD player?”

“Jackson’s last tour footage,” Felicity said as she popped open the back and set another shiny black bag inside. “The car was a gift from his record label. They thought he’d like seeing himself. They really didn’t know much about him.”

“So he never drove it?”

“Oh he did,” she said, “but mostly to the store and back to get supplies. He used the CD player, but he didn’t have long road trips to take with small children. That’s what the players in the back of the seats are really for. Can you imagine Jackson taking friends on long distance trips and making them watch him play a concert in Prague? He was way too humble to do something so egotistical.”

Yeah, I thought, but he’s still the same guy who played his video version in Guitar Hero and, when he lost, threw an impromptu concert in his living room to prove his expertise. Not really what I’d call humble.

I knew I shouldn’t be so hard on Jax. I had only met him once, but it didn’t take much to see the guy was plagued by the types of demons that traditionally torment all creative types. His inability to conquer them cost him his life at a young age. If we didn’t get moving, we’d be tortured soon by worse.

“Hop in,” I said, sliding into the driver’s side and positioning my katana between my right leg and the center console for easy access.

Benji didn’t hesitate to climb into the back. The idea of watching a free rock concert in a comfy leather luxury vehicle while drinking a Coke didn’t strike him as all that bad. However Felicity seemed to be taking a bit longer to get her act together.

It’s probably the drugs, I thought, tapping my pocket. Here we go.

“I was going to grab something,” she said.

“We really need to get moving,” I told her.

She hesitated for a minute then gave up. “Shouldn’t you open the garage door? We don’t want to get carbon monoxide poisoning in here.”

Benji’s head shot up at the suggestion.

“It’s far too ventilated in here for that,” I said, thinking back on the pile of dead people in the gym from the day before. “Besides we’re only going to be in here a minute. The last thing I want to do is risk opening the door and having an unexpected guest come barging in.”

“The gate didn’t stop you,” she teased.

“Get in,” I repeated. “And put on your seat belt.”

Felicity finally complied. Once she was in and buckled up, I locked the car doors and hit the garage door opener.

The barrier rolled up, blasting us full on in the face with bright sunlight. Luckily there were no signs of zombies, probably owing to the high walls and iron gate. I pulled out of the garage and rolled down the driveway.

“How do I open the gate?” I asked Felicity.

“Just pull up and it will open automatically.”

“Even without electricity?”

“It’s wired to the backup generator,” she informed us, “in case of earthquakes.”

I pulled up and the gate slowly swung open. We drove out onto the asphalt and a loud thump hit the right side of the car. Benji screamed at the top of his lungs. I turned to see a wet, rotting corpse in a sailor’s uniform pounding his fists on the side of the Lexus.

“What are you waiting for?” Felicity yelled, finally shaken from her pill-induced state of relaxation. “Drive!”

I pulled down the street to the main gates. They were already open. The Escalade was where we had left it, but the doors were torn off now and one of the tires was missing. Whoever hit it had left it up on the spare tire jack.

“Glad we didn’t try to make a run for the Escalade,” I said.

“Me too,” Benji chimed in.

I looked over and noticed Felicity was violently shaking.

Poor thing, I thought. She probably hasn’t seen a lot of zombies, being locked away in that prison palace with Jackson this whole time. She doesn’t know how common it is to see these creatures, or what worse horrors await. She’s in for a huge surprise!

We pulled down the Mesa and back toward the highway. Along the way, Felicity gasped as we passed carcasses of people and animals left out for the flies and scavengers. The air was hot outside but we had a nearly unlimited supply of AC thanks to the Lexus, so she didn’t have to smell the scent of rotting death that had settled over most of the world. Surprisingly, we only saw a few zombies on our way to the freeway onramp and they were all a long distance off.

I drove around a stalled car abandoned in the middle of the freeway and took off south toward Ventura. We were driving past Santa Claus lane in Carpenteria when she spoke again.

“I want to go to Ojai,” she said.

“It’s a little out of the way,” I responded. “For now we need to stick to the plan and just drive straight through to the military base.”

“I want to go to Ojai.”

“It’s beautiful out there,” I said, trying not to sound condescending, “but now’s not the time.”

“You don’t understand,” she argued. “My mom lives there. I haven’t seen her since the zombie outbreak.”

“Maybe you can talk some of the soldiers into taking you on a trip out there,” I said.

“They are going to lock us up like prisoners. I don’t want to stay there. Who knows how long we have left? We could die at any moment out here. If I am going to die I’d rather be at home with my mom.”

“It’s not a great idea.”

“Isn’t it? Listening to you talk about your brother all the time made me miss my family. Why should you be the only one who gets to do what he wants? Why are your plans more important than mine?”

I rolled my eyes. She was just trying to guilt trip me into doing what she wanted, and I knew it. Sure she missed her mom, but it just wasn’t safe to go wandering off into the countryside.

“What the hell is that?” I asked.

“Don’t change the subject,” she said. “Don’t be passive aggressive.”

“No. There is something going on up ahead.”

We’d reached the point in the road where the freeway veered off along a narrow strip between the ocean, a set of railroad tracks, and high cliffs. It was the final stretch between Santa Barbara and Ventura. Usually cars flew up the five lane road on both sides as fast as they could. Instead, we saw a line of cars stretching the wrong way across the road three deep, effectively creating another road block. Surly looking guys with beards on motorcycles rode up and down the freeway on either side.

“Unity Gang,” I mumbled.

“What?” Felicity asked. “Who the hell is the Unity Gang?”

“It’s a coalition of bikers and gang bangers from all over the state working together to rob, rape, murder, and extort survivors. This is bad.”

“What are we going to do?” Benji asked, looking terrified again.

“I don’t know.”

“Turn around,” Felicity shouted.

“I can’t.”

“Then stop the car and just back up,” she yelled.

“You don’t understand,. They can easily run us down with those bikes. I don’t think it’s a good idea to agitate them.”

“So we’re just going to surrender to them and let them have their way with us?”

I realized that Felicity had a lot more to lose than we did because she was a girl. While we might escape with just being target practice, there was no way they would let her go. She looked like she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Obviously the pills had worn off.

“We’re going to play it cool,” I said, trying to be calm. “When the time comes we will fight, but not until I give you the signal. We’ll bust through those cars, even if we have to push them all out of the way and haul ass to Ventura. We’re not leaving anyone behind. I promise.”

I put my hand on her arm and looked her in the eyes.

“Do you trust me?” I asked.

Her lip trembled but she nodded.

“What’s the signal?” Benji asked.

“Me pulling out my sword. Don’t make a move until I do. If I have to get out of this car, I’m leaving a trail of bodies for zom food in my path.”

Two motorcycles loudly roared next to us as they pulled up alongside the Lexus to escort us into position. I pulled toward the front of the blockade and let the car idle as I put it in park. The good news was that the hybrid was so quiet it might have sounded like I turned off the ignition, especially with all the ruckus from the bikes.

A greasy looking biker in a leather vest with long black hair walked over to us and tapped on my window. I rolled it down. His name was sewn on his cut. RABBIT. That’s an odd name for a tough biker, I thought.

“Where are you coming from?” he asked.

I could feel Benji’s eyes burning a hole through the back of my head from his seat. We couldn’t tell him that we were in New Lompoc. For all we knew, John might be looking for us. I wouldn’t put it past him to put a bounty on our heads for what happened to Tank.

“Are you retarded?” he asked when I didn’t answer.

“Sorry. We are coming from Santa Barbara, up on the Mesa.”

“How long you been there?”

Why did he want to know? And how was any of this his business? I could feel Felicity starting to squirm in her seat.

“Since the outbreak started,” I said.

“So why did you leave?”

Who does this guy think he is? Mister twenty questions?

“A tanker washed up full of zombies,” I said. “They came ashore and started taking over the neighborhood. I thought we might be safer in Malibu.”

“You’re not gonna have much luck down there,” Rabbit said, sounding more like an overly helpful gas station attendant than a thug. “Whole place is overrun with the walking dead.”

“We still gotta try.”

“Suit yourself,” he snapped.

The words left me feeling kind of relieved. It sounded like they planned on letting us pass. Then I noticed that Rabbit hadn’t taken his hand off the car. He leaned in and looked around past me.

“Whatcha carrying,” he asked, looking back over to Felicity and winking, “aside from this pretty girl?”

Felicity pulled her skirt down and put her legs together. Man, I thought, it must be scary as hell sometimes to be a girl.

“Just some food rations and water,” I lied. If they found out about the gas they’d want it for sure. For a biker, fuel was maybe even more important than air. It was how they maintained control over the area. Without it they were just a scary tribe of guys on foot.

“We’re going to need to take a look,” he said.

“We’re kind of in a hurry,” I explained. “And we don’t have much to spare.”

Rabbit chuckled.

“You don’t get it do you, sport?” He spat on the ground. “I’m not asking.”

“We’re not looking for any trouble,” I said, holding my hands up. For a moment I considered flooring it and trying to fight our way out right then and there while we still had the element of surprise on our side.

“Well I guess this is our lucky day then, isn’t it?” He scoffed at us. I could feel Felicity trying to make herself smaller in her seat.

“Now this is what’s going to happen,” Rabbit said. “You’re going to step out of the vehicle and we are going to search it for things we might find useful to our cause.”

“So basically you’re just going to steal all our stuff.”

“We’ve claimed this road,” he said, undisturbed by my outburst. “The toll for driving on it is generally half of whatever you are carrying, depending on how valuable we determine your cargo to be. We’re not monsters like them Unity Gang. We’re Sons of the New Dawn. We use what we take to fight them off, keep them from taking over all of Southern California. You might not think it’s noble, but then again who cares what the hell you think?”

I began to fidget with the blade. I saw Felicity cast me a wary glance. The last thing she wanted was a fight, but I was fairly certain that, noble or not, it was going to come down to that. There was no way I was letting a gang of deluded bikers steal all our stuff and kidnap Felicity.

“Now get out of the car,” he said coldly, adding with a smile, “pretty damn please.”

“No,” I said casually, wrapping my hand around the base of my blade. I figured I could yank the door open and knock him over, then hop out and begin carving up anyone who got in my way. It wasn’t the best plan I had ever come up with, but I was starting to get really angry. I’d been through too much to let them take my chance of getting back to my brother away from me. I was sick and tired of other people derailing my plans with their nonsense.

“Excuse me?” he said, looking genuinely shocked. “I don’t think I heard you correctly, little man.”

“You heard me,” I said in a low growl.

He shook his head in disbelief and laughed.

“All right then, you little idiot,” he said, reaching in and grabbing me by the shirt. “We’re going to have to do this the hard way.”

I smiled at him. My right hand was crossed over my lap with my fingers on the door handle. My left hand was now wrapped around my blade.

“What are you smiling about?”

I didn’t answer. I’m smiling, I thought, because in just a few moments the same fingers that are pulling on my shirt are going to be laying on the hot asphalt permanently detached from your body, you punk biker scum.

Just as I was getting ready to make my big move, a booming voice came from behind Rabbit.

“Rabbit! What’s taking so long?”

His expression changed and he let go of my shirt, backing out of the window. He turned and I could see his buddy, a much larger version of himself with the name SCAR stitched on his jacket.

“Nothing,” Rabbit said. “They are just getting out of the car now.”

Scar walked over to the window and looked in. His expression changed dramatically when he saw Felicity.

“Holy Jesus,” he said, sounding almost like a convert. “Do you know who that is? That’s Felicity Jane!”

Rabbit looked confused. Felicity came back to life. The guy was obviously a fan.

“Who the hell is Felicity Jane?” Rabbit asked.

“Only one of the hottest and most talented actresses of her generation,” Scar said.

Felicity blushed and pulled down the visor on her side to check her makeup. I rolled my eyes.

This isn’t happening, I thought. A second ago we were ready to battle for our lives with hardened biker scum and now we’re being accosted by a die-hard fan. Unbelievable!

Scar leaned in the window to get closer.

“You probably don’t remember me,” he said, the heat of his breath practically in my face. “I met you at Comic Con last year. I stood in line for over an hour to get a picture with you.”

“You were at Comic Con?” I asked, laughing dismissively. “What for?”

Scar turned and gave me a nasty glare.

“You see what I’ve been dealing with?” Rabbit protested.

“I was in Starfire Galaxy,” she said. “I played the child queen of the warrior Amazonians.”

“Ursa,” Benji said from the backseat. “They made that poster from the movie stills of her in the fur bikini. It sold like a million copies.”

I suddenly remembered the poster on the ceiling in New Lompoc.

“What are you doing here?” Scar asked.

“My friends and I are heading to see my mom in Ojai,” she said. “I haven’t seen her since the outbreak and I am worried about her. We were taking her and my stepfather food and water. He’s diabetic so I am really concerned, you know?”

“Right,” Rabbit scoffed. “A minute ago they said they were going to Malibu.”

“I’m sorry,” Scar said in a soft voice. “We gotta take half your supplies. It’s our policy.”

“You can’t make an exception for me?” She leaned over and gave him those sad eyes.

“I wish I could, but the rest of the guys wouldn’t understand,” he said. “I promise you we won’t take the car though. We will need some of the gas, but that’s it. You really have no idea how huge a fan I am.”

“If you’re really a fan then you won’t rob me,” she pouted, turning on all her charm. “I need this stuff for my mom. Please?”

“I can’t do it,” he said, sounding really torn.

“I do remember you. You were so sweet after waiting all that time. You brought me a teddy bear and I gave you a signed DVD for being so nice.”

“That’s right,” he said, sounding shocked and pleased. “Do you still have the teddy?”

“I named him Rasputin. He’s at my mom’s house.”

“That’s amazing,” he said. “Rasputin . . . I like that.”

“I have an idea,” I said. Scar and Rabbit glared at me for interrupting but I pressed on. “We have a spare can of gas in the back next to the water. That’s got to be pretty valuable right? Why don’t you take that and let us get on our way?”

Scar stopped to think it over, running his dirty fingers through his salt and pepper beard in the process.

“Yeah,” he said. “That might work. Go ahead and pop the hatch.”

I did, and he walked back and took both gas cans instead of the single one I offered. I was glad that we were driving a hybrid. There was no telling when or how we’d be getting gas again. The last thing I needed was to run out ten miles from the base and have to fight my way across an urban jungle filled with zombies and bad guys.

“You know you’re lucky,” Rabbit said with a nasty grin. “Usually when someone mouths off we just take the whole car and make them walk to Ventura on foot.”

I didn’t say anything for fear of upsetting him further.

“You’re very kind,” Felicity said. “I hope our contribution helps your cause.”

“I remember you now.” He laughed. “You’re that broad from Star Dancers whose partner got chomped on live air. Yeah. I saw that on the internet. Funny as hell.”

Felicity blanched and went silent. She sat back down and pulled on a pair of sunglasses, looking ill.

Scar slapped the side of the Lexus with his big, meaty hand.

“You are clear to go,” he said. “Good luck Miss Felicity Jane. Say hello to your mother for me.”

Chapter Seventeen

The bikers moved the cars blocking our path and waved us through. We drove along the deserted highway in silence for a while.

“That was close,” I said.

“Yeah,” Benji said. “I thought for sure you were going to freak out and get us all killed.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, bro,” I said, flabbergasted.

“Just saying.” He shrugged.

“You’re awfully quiet,” I turned to Felicity. “It’s okay now. We made it out, thanks to you.”

“Yeah thanks,” Benji said. “I guess being a celebrity still has its advantages.”

“You okay?” I asked. “You look like you’re going to be sick. Do you need me to pull over? It’s okay if you do. It happens to the best of us.”

“I was just thinking about what Ewan did to Mario,” she said.

“Oh, that must have been rough.” I wasn’t really in the mood to get all negative again. We just escaped some serious trouble. We should have been celebrating, not grieving. I thought about Jackson. It had already been a long day and it wasn’t even noon!

“The show was sponsored by Snax Max,” Felicity said. “They are a corporate food conglomerate that owns a bunch of fast food restaurants. Ewan was eating a Beefy Max Burrito supreme when he snapped.”

“That’s not what made him sick though.”

“How do you know?” She turned to look at me. “No one knows what’s causing people to kill and eat each other. How do we know it wasn’t contracted through bad food?”

“Man I hope not,” I said. “I’d do just about anything right now for a Wetzel’s Pretzel.”

“Have you ever tried the pepperoni twist?” Benji sat up from the backseat. “They are amazing!”

“Almost worth risking a run through a mall for.”

“Not me,” Felicity said. “I can’t get the image of Ewan biting him out of my head. One minute he was chowing down on that stuff and sipping a gallon of soda. The next he was on stage biting Mario’s jugular.”

“That’s understandable,” I said. “I’d probably feel the same way if that had happened to me.”

“Turn off up here,” she said as we passed the sign announcing Ojai.

“We’re not going to Ojai,” I said, firmly shaking my head from side to side. “We talked about this. Especially now that we’ve given away most of our gas. We barely have enough to get to Hueneme.”

“If it wasn’t for me, we’d be walking right now,” she said. “Plus it was your genius idea to hand out our fuel.”

“That was the only way to get them to let us go,” I loudly protested.

“He was this close to just letting us go. I had it all under control until you butted in to the conversation.”

“Don’t act like I didn’t help.”

“I saw your hand on the door,” she said. “You were getting ready to pick a fight. We’re lucky we’re not all dead. If that guy wouldn’t have come along and recognized me . . .”

“You mean Scar?” I interrupted.

“If Scar wouldn’t have interrupted, we might all be dead on the side of the road now.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I am sure they would have kept you for a pet, like you kept Rasputin.”

“Let’s put it to a vote,” Felicity said, ignoring my not so playful jab. “Everyone who thinks we should let me go see my mom and be with my family, especially after I just saved our lives from bloodthirsty bikers, raise your hand.”

She raised her own hand. The cocky smile on her face meant only one thing—that Benji had sided with her.

“Come on Benji,” I said, adjusting the rearview mirror to see his hand fully extended. “We don’t have enough gas for that.”

“Fair is fair. She has a point.”

Sell out, I thought. Who’s side are you on anyway?

“Two to one,” she said. “Looks like we’re heading to Ojai.”

“I thought the saying was you can never go home again once you’re famous.” I turned onto the connecter and took us up and over a bridge toward Ojai. She cheered and Benji joined in.

Little Judas, I thought. You’d do anything to get her attention.

Was that a pang of jealousy I was feeling? I couldn’t lie. I did like Felicity, but I was trying to figure out if that was because of who she was as a person or if it was because she was famous.

Give it time, a dark little voice in the back of my mind said. Just give it time.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I know my way around town like the back of my hand. I could guide you there blindfolded. Plus I know an out-of-the-way gas station you can hit up when it’s time to go.”

We drove the short distance east into town and she guided us along a series of roads toward her mom’s place. Since she told me it was up on a hill, I wasn’t all that worried. For some reason zombies tended to move with the path of least resistance when left alone. Of course that was before they began to form hordes and knock down walls, so I couldn’t be sure I wasn’t just giving myself a false sense of security for nothing.

The road up to her mom’s place looked like something out of Christopher Robin’s wildest fantasies. There was a crooked old tree and a wooden mailbox with her new husband’s name on it, SWANSON. I half expected there to be a red balloon tied to it and one of the S’s to be painted backwards.

“This is it,” she burst out, unable to contain her excitement.

“Did you really grow up here?” Benji asked.

“Yep. My dad lived in Las Vegas, so my sister and I would have to see him twice a month for the first few years after the divorce. Mom gave up everything and moved us out here. When she remarried her new husband moved us in with him out here. It’s paradise. I wish I had never left. After I started getting gigs in Hollywood, she got an apartment out there too, on Gower. That place was literally a roach motel.” She laughed.

Benji climbed up to hear her story. He was totally spellbound.

“She didn’t come to live with you?” I found it hard to believe. The media had always painted her mom to be the cause of all her problems--a money hungry failed actress who pushed one daughter into acting and the other into an early grave. Her little sister moved to Vegas at fourteen to live with her dad and ended up an underage stripper at a biker bar outside Glendale. She went missing for over a month then phoned in from Sturgis to say she was still alive. Two weeks later she was found stabbed to death in a motel in midtown Manhattan. No one knew how she got there. There were needle marks up and down her arms. Felicity was just starting to become a household name. Her sister’s death pushed her over the edge. It was all the media would talk about for nearly a year. The crime was never solved.

“After Cassie died, she thought about it,” Felicity said. “The media began hounding her, following her around the grocery store. It took a real toll on her marriage. I told her that she and Phil could come live with me. I was leaving to shoot in Mexico and they could stay there while I was gone. I was so excited when she said she would, but then she backed out at the last minute.”

“Was that when you shot Double Trouble?” Benji asked.

“It was,” Felicity said, tearing up.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I didn’t realize how much I missed her,” Felicity said, laughing and fanning her tears away with her hand. “I can’t wait to see her.”

“Here we go.” I drove up the hill. There was a Ford F150 with huge monster truck tires in the driveway and a Subaru next to it in front of a ranch style house. We parked and got out. I grabbed my blade and held it out in front of me, twisting from side to side and leaning over to stretch. I glanced around, searching the trees for signs of people, living or dead. It was eerily quiet but we appeared to be alone.

Thank God for small miracles, I thought.

Benji and Felicity started to walk into the house but I called out to stop them.

“Let me go first,” I said. “Just in case.”

Felicity looked annoyed but she didn’t protest. I walked in and she pointed to the right, toward the master bedroom. Moving along the hallway I could see pictures of her and her sister from when they were kids.

Stay focused, I thought. There will be time to get the full tour later.

I hadn’t wanted to come to Ojai in the first place. I was damn sure I didn’t want to get turned into the living dead for my troubles.

The bedroom door was ajar, so I pulled it back slowly. A dry wind coming in through the open window blew part of the curtains back, making me freeze in place. Then I saw them. On the bed, dressed in their wedding clothes, were an older man and woman. They were perfectly still with their eyes open and just the hint of a smile on their faces. The woman was holding a note in her hand.

No, I thought. Not another note. Not more tragedy. Not today.

But it wasn’t in my control. Already Felicity was making her way into the room. Deep down inside I wished I could protect her from what she was about to see, but I knew I couldn’t. First Jackson and now this. It almost made me want to give her back the pills I’d confiscated at the beach house.

“What’s going on?” Her voice faltered. Even as she spoke she knew the answer.

I stepped aside and bowed my head.

“No,” she cried. “No!”

“What is it?” Benji asked.

Felicity turned to me.

“Don’t let him see this,” she said in a hushed tone. “Go out in the living room and wait for me. Please?”

“Of course.” I walked to the door and turned Benji around, leading him away.

“Are they dead?” He looked up at me, waiting for an answer he already knew.

“Yeah.”

“What are we doing?”

“Giving Felicity some space. It’s a lot to take under normal circumstances, much less on the same day as Jax.”

“I understand,” he said with a note of detached sadness in his voice.

I realized that I was the only one who still had family in our group now. While I had seen more than my fair share of death, I had never seen one of my relatives killed by a zombie or laid out dead. We sat there in silence listening to the wind blow through chimes on the porch and eventually Felicity came out holding the note.

Benji ran over to her and threw his arms around her. She started crying again but she didn’t seem as upset as I expected her to be. Perhaps she was just too exhausted to take it all in. She looked at me and held up the note.

“Two weeks ago,” she said. “They took sleeping pills and died peacefully holding hands.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck and avoiding eye contact.

“You know the crazy thing is that I had to find them today after I found Jackson this morning. What kind of messed up karma is that?”

“It’s totally unfair,” I agreed with her, kicking the end of the sofa absentmindedly with my sneaker.

“And how did they know I would come back here?” She wiped fresh tears from her eyes. “The letter is addressed to me. All it says is how much they loved me and how proud of me they are and not to give up hope no matter what. Why should I keep fighting when everyone I love is dead?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe they left if for you because you were all they had left?”

“Yeah, and now I’m on my own.”

“You’ve got me,” Benji said, wrapping his arms back around her waist. He began to cry. “My family died too. I had to watch them die, even my little sister. It was the worst thing I’ve ever seen. Every night when I go to bed I can still see her face looking at me, begging for help, right before they began biting her all over.”

“I’m so sorry,” Felicity said, stroking his hair and looking at me.

I held my hands up as if to say I didn’t know where this was coming from. The truth was Benji had never shared that much with me. Sure he told me about what happened with his family, but he was reserved and quiet. Most of the time he just kept to himself. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized how bad he’d been hurting inside.

“My first few weeks on the base were the hardest,” he said. “But then Xander began to look out for me. He had my back when the other kids teased me or stole from me or tried to beat me up. He’s taken care of me, made sure I don’t get eaten or left behind or kidnapped by neo Nazi’s.”

“Neo Nazi’s?” Felicity threw me a puzzled look.

“It’s a long story.”

“We’re family now,” Benji said, letting go of her and wiping his face. “We’re all we got left now. I know that won’t bring back your parents, but it’s better than nothing.”

Felicity leaned over and kissed him softly on the forehead. The look on his face said it all. I thought for a minute he was going to pass out right there.

“Thank you,” she said, “little brother.”

“What do you want to do?” I asked. “I’d be more than happy to help you bury them in the soft grass of the front yard if you like.”

“I think that would be nice. They deserve a proper burial.”

Benji and I fetched some shovels from a tool shed out near the garage and set to work while Felicity began to poke around the house for things to take with us. To cool us down, she made fresh lemonade from ripe lemons she picked on a tree in the yard and some sugar she found in the kitchen. There was no ice, so we drank it warm but it still tasted amazing.

Luckily the ground was moist and it took us less than an hour to dig one big hole for her parents to share. Benji was too squeamish to help move the bodies so he went with Felicity to pick wild flowers to line the bottom of the grave. When they had filled all the empty spaces up with colorful poppy flowers, honeysuckle, and larkspur, I set about the task of moving the bodies.

Her mom was light and stiff as a board, which made her easy to move, but her stepfather was already beginning to decay. I had to hold my breath to avoid the putrid smell of decomposition coming off of him. Twice I lost my hold and nearly dropped him, but recovered in time. I set them both on the grass then slowly and carefully pulled them into the grave with me to make sure I didn’t farther disturb their corpses. When they were laid out side by side as they had been in their bedroom, I joined their hands together and closed their eyes.

Benji made the sign of the cross over himself as I climbed out.

“Thank you,” Felicity said. “Before you bury them I’d like to say a few words.”

She proceeded to pay tribute to her mother in loving detail, thanking her for all she had done for her and her sister. Then she lavished praise on her stepfather for his love and support, for taking care of her when she was young, and for caring for her mother and being a faithful companion to the end. When she was done we were all crying.

“You can bury them now,” she said.

Benji and I took up shovels and gently filled the hole back up with dirt. When we were done, she fixed a white crucifix to the top of the grave with their names written on it that she’d made while we were digging.

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” I asked. I wasn’t sure that it was safe for us. In fact I was fairly certain it wasn’t, but I would stand watch all night if I had to in order for her to have one last night with her mom in her childhood home.

“No,” she said, wiping away fresh tears.

“Are you sure?” I was doing my best to be supportive. “We can take turns making sure it’s safe.”

“I’ve already grabbed a few things that remind me of her. I think it would be worse for me to stay. It’s hard just being here now. I can’t imagine waking up and not having her here.”

“We’ll go then,” I said, and she shook her head and cried again.

“I’m coming to the base with you,” she confided.

“Yes.”

“We’re sticking together. Like a family.”

“You know it,” I answered back. “We’re gonna need gas though to make it back.”

“No problem. I know just the place to get it.”

Chapter Eighteen

Felicity grabbed the bag of stuff she’d gathered from the house and got back in the Lexus. She turned and handed a small teddy bear to Benji.

“His name is Rasputin,” she said. “Scar gave him to me at Comic Con.”

“You weren’t just making that up?” I stared at her in disbelief.

“I would never lie about that.” She gave me a shocked look. “Take the way we came up and go back down the hill, then turn left instead of heading right back to the highway. The Hasslebeck’s Chevron station should be down about a quarter of a mile.”

We rolled down the hill and headed toward the gas station. I’d like to be able to tell you that I was surprised when we came around the corner in a wooded canyon and rolled smack dab into the middle of an armed road block, but I was starting to get used to it—as much as anyone can get used to having automatic weapons pointed at them. These weren’t bikers. They looked like normal people, townsfolk, except they were armed to the teeth and not interested in hiding it. They quickly surrounded all sides of the SUV and began looking in to see who we had inside. A dopey looking guy with ruffled sandy blonde hair and sad puppy dog blue eyes tapped my window with the muzzle of his Uzi. He didn’t look much older than me.

“Roll down the window,” he ordered. I looked at Felicity and she nodded to me. No point in getting us lit up and killed over a simple request. I complied.

“Yeah,” I said. “What’s up, man?”

“What are you doing here?” He didn’t sound like much of a leader. He sounded, for lack of a better term, slow in the head.

“We were just looking for some petrol. Heard there was a gas station down this way.”

“We’ve got some gas.”

“Great.” I felt like he was holding something back. “Can we buy some?”

“We’ll give you some for free,” he said. I checked the mirrors to see that the others were closing in on all sides of our car. They still had their guns up as if they were ready for a fight.

“That would be very cool of you.” When he didn’t respond I added, “Is there something I’m missing?”

“No,” he said, looking nervous. “We’re just not used to having strangers wander into our midst, especially so close to Harvest.”

“What’s harvest?”

“A time of giving thanks and praise to our Lord and savior,” he said without batting an eye.

Perfect, I thought. They are a bunch of brain washed religious fanatics. That’s why they’re acting so strange.

“We just want to get some gas and be on our way, if you don’t mind. We’ve still got a long drive ahead of us.”

His eyes grew wide as Felicity leaned forward and he caught sight of her.

“Felicity?”

Here we go again, I thought. Another crazed fan boy. I knew it had definitely saved our hides the last time around, but it was still annoying. Why did it bother me so much? I couldn’t put my finger on it. Here I was working so hard to keep us all safe and get us where we needed to be. I had to fight Tank off and lie our way out of trouble and all she had to do was use her fame. It just didn’t seem fair.

“Okay yeah I know,” I said. “It’s very exciting to meet a celebrity in real life but she’s just a person like you or me. Trust me. Spend an hour with her and you’ll see she’s no different than anyone else.”

“Darren?” She leaned over me, growing excited. “What are you still doing here?”

“Are you serious?” I asked in an exasperated tone. “Is there anyone you don’t know? Come on!”

“What am I doing here?” He ignored my outburst. It was like I didn’t even exist. “I live here, remember? What are you doing here?”

The Uzi was on a strap that hung from his neck. He had reached both his hands in across my chest and was now holding hands with Felicity, staring deeply into her eyes. I was tempted to make a grab for the gun and teach him a lesson in staying alert. A dark, sinister emotion twisted around in the pit of my guts watching him fawn over her. If I hadn’t grown up learning to control my emotions I would have thought it was jealousy.

“I came back to see my mom,” she said. Tears filled her eyes again.

“How is she?”

“She’s . . . She passed.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said with genuine compassion. “You really shouldn’t be here.”

“It’s getting late,” one of the others said. “Soon the sun will set. The Messiah will want to meet our new guests before dinner.”

“We weren’t really planning on sticking around that long,” I said.

A woman with a shotgun at her hip walked right up to the car, pointing it at my face. “We insist. No one enters or leaves this hallowed ground without the blessing of the Messiah.”

“Who is the Messiah?” Felicity asked Darren as he pulled his hands back and broke eye contact.

“Only he can reveal himself to outsiders,” Darren said.

“I don’t like this,” she said.

“Me neither,” I replied.

“It’s going to be fine,” Darren said. “The Messiah is all-seeing and wise and compassionate. He will know what’s best to do.”

“Really, we were just passing through,” I said, but they were already pulling open the doors. They held them open and rode half in and half out with their guns trained on us.

“Drive slowly,” the woman said. “We will guide you into camp.”

Darren seemed to give Felicity a look that said he was sorry, but it was way too late for that. We pulled down the road, passing the Chevron on the way. A little voice in the back of my head told me to fight, but I knew it was useless. They would cut us to shreds if we tried to make a break for it. Whatever was going to happen, we’d just have to ride it out to the bitter end.

No one is taking my sword again, I vowed. They’ll have to pry it from my cold dead hands.

As we drove, we passed groups of roving armed units on patrol who looked up and watched us drive farther in. I was suddenly really glad I hadn’t tried anything stupid. It looked like they had been stocking up on weapons and ammunition for decades. I remembered learning about the massacre at Waco for social studies when I was still in school. This was starting to look a lot like that, but without an end in sight.

“Look over there,” Benji said, pointing out the open door.

We all turned our heads. There were camps set up along the sides of the roads. In between them were tents that offered goods and services. It was an outdoor market like something from the Renaissance Faire I’d gone to when I was Benji’s age. There was even a guy carrying a large drumstick in his hand and eating it as he walked along. I was so distracted that I almost ran over some people crossing in front of us. A loud thumping on the hood of the SUV brought my attention back to the road.

“Watch where you’re going,” the woman barked. “Make a left up here and drive all the way up onto the property. Keep it under five miles per hour, and whatever you do don’t run over any children.”

I turned onto the gravel road and pulled down a wooded lane with children darting in and out of the trees, laughing and playing. When I came out the other side, I pulled up in front of a huge building with several armed guards posted out in front.

“What is this place?” I asked.

“I don’t remember it,” Felicity said.

“Pull up over there and shut the engine off,” the woman ordered.

Everyone who had been riding on the side of the vehicle jumped off and steadied their weapons on us, leaving the doors wide open. I did exactly as she said, without hesitation. We all got out. I strapped my blade on my back again. I was ready to fend off an argument over them disarming me again, but it never came.

Guess they figure one sword won’t do much against a hail of hot bullets blasting through me, I thought. It made sense. It would be futile to fight. It wasn’t like we just had to get off the property. We had to make it out of town in one piece.

“What now?” I was doing my best to sound as nonthreatening as possible. Under the circumstances I’d say I was handling things pretty well.

“Now,” she said with a smile, “you meet our Messiah, Bryan Crowe.”

We were led into the building slowly at gun point. There were more young children running around playing tag. They didn’t so much as stop and give us a look, which seemed odd, since we were clearly being marched around as prisoners. I would have thought for sure that their curiosity would have gotten the best of them, but no such luck.

“Nice place you’ve got here,” I said, craning my head around to take in the paintings of Biblical stories on the ceilings.

The muzzle of her gun jabbed me in the small of my back. “Keep moving.”

She’ll kill you for sure if you step one toe out of line, I thought. I’d never been more sure of anything in my life. She had the determination and resolution of a devotee blinded by faith. Chills went down my spine as the realization set fully in that she wouldn’t hesitate for a second to murder us if given the order.

Before we knew it, we were standing before a middle aged man with a long beard sitting on an elevated, gold painted throne covered in pillows. Behind him, the wall showed one long mural depicting the last supper through the crucifixion and resurrection.

A pretty teenage girl with a bob cut stood next to him, actually feeding him grapes. He leaned over and whispered in her ear. She turned and looked at us then ran off.

“Welcome,” he said, standing up and coming to greet us. “My name is Bryan Crowe and I am a humble servant of God almighty. I have been waiting for you.”

Felicity groaned and the girl jabbed her in the back with her gun.

“It’s all right Rowena,” Bryan said, addressing his fierce female warrior. “Our faith does not require blind obedience from others.”

“Glad to hear it,” I said, stepping forward and extending my hand. “My name is Xander.”

He took my hand in his. His grip was firm and unyielding like metal, but his hands were soft like a girl’s. Chances are he wasn’t doing a whole lot of hard labor in the promised land.

Probably leaving that for the kids, I thought. Or prisoners.

“Welcome,” he said with a wide grin. He released my hand and took Felicity’s. “And who might you be?”

He leered at her and something inside of me stirred to life, dark and brooding and ready to chop his hand off if he got too friendly with her.

“Felicity.” She looked away from him.

“Welcome, child,” he beamed, lingering a moment too long before turning his full attention to Benji. He went down on one knee and looked my friend in the eyes, giving him his full, undivided attention.

“How’s it going, champ?” His voice was much more relaxed.

“Um,” Benji said, looking up at me. I nodded that it was okay to respond to Bryan. “Okay.”

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Benji.”

“Nice to meet you, Benji. I’m Bryan.” He sat down in front of my friend. “Hey, do you like playing hide and seek?”

“Yeah.” Benji sounded a little confused.

“Well we’ve got over ten acres of zombie-free land to play on,” Bryan said. “Dinner isn’t for another hour. Do you want to explore the grounds and play with some of the other kids?”

Benji looked at me again. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. All I wanted to do was get out of town, but that looked less and less likely to happen in any hurry. We were almost out of gas and they had what we needed. Not to mention, we were severely outgunned. It might be good for Benji to run around with kids his own age while the adults sorted out the unpleasant details. I shrugged and Benji turned back to Bryan.

“How will I find my way back?”

“Judah will show you,” Bryan said. Without another word, a young boy with a mess of chocolate brown hair Benji’s age walked over to him, ignoring the rest of us.

“Hey,” the boy said, extending his hand to Benji. “I’m Judah.”

“I’m Benji.” He nervously took the boy’s hand.

“It’s okay, Benji,” Judah said. “You don’t have to be afraid. Come on, I’ll show you where we grow our crops. We got a working tractor and everything.”

“See you at supper, kiddo,” Felicity said, stopping Benji for a moment and kissing him on the head. Judah led Benji outside and I turned on Bryan.

“Okay. Now that the kid’s out of the way, let’s hear it. What’s your deal?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Bryan said, looking slightly offended.

“Come off it.”

“Your little brother will be fine. Better than fine with Judah as his guide. I would never hurt a child. The Lord said we should be like children if we are to enter into his kingdom.”

“What’s with the religious compound?” Felicity said, cutting to the heart of the matter. “You’ve built up a cult following for the end of times and armed yourselves to the teeth, hoping something like this would happen and it did. You’ve been planning this since long before Z-Day. That about cover it?”

“Are these not the end of days?” Bryan asked with that creepy grin appearing on his face again. “The book of revelations describes the end of times as a period when the dead shall walk the earth because Hell is overflowing and there is no more room for them. Does that sound accurate to you?”

“I don’t believe in Hell,” I said flatly.

“The fact that you don’t believe in it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. If you ceased to believe in electricity because you don’t understand how it works, electricity would still exist. For hundreds of years people thought the earth was the center of the physical universe and that the sun rotated around us. It makes sense if you think about it. They were observing it every day with their own two eyes. It was hard to get them to believe otherwise, to teach them to understand that our planet actually rotates around the sun. Did that make it less true, because people didn’t want to believe in it?”

“I thought you religious types eschewed science,” I challenged.

“We don’t,” he said, calmly looking between us. “And you’re missing the point. Hell is as real as this world, and the end of times as predicted by the divinely inspired book of God is at hand. We are all living witnesses of God’s great plan to abolish sin from the earth once and for all and restore this world to the paradise it once was.”

“Praise him,” Rowena said, making the sign of the cross over herself.

“Sin?” I scoffed. “You mean like kidnapping wayward travelers at gun point?”

“The earth was once a great paradise,” Bryan said, ignoring my jab. “A Garden of Eden, until sin entered in the form of the serpent. Man’s weakness cost him dearly but the blood of the Lamb atoned for that weakness with his great sacrifice. The scriptures tell us he will come again and cleanse the earth with fire and we will be set free.”

Felicity gulped, looking scared.

“Your followers referred to you as the Messiah,” I said. “Is that what you’ve been telling them?”

“It’s not for me to say that I am the chosen one,” Bryan said, in a well polished routine. “As I told you, I am but a humble servant of the one true God.”

“Sounds great,” I said. “Like I told your armed guards here, we’re just passing through. All we need is a little gas and we’ll be on our way.”

“I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.”

“Why?” I stared him hard in the eyes. “We know you have petrol. We passed the station on the way here.”

“You’ve come at a very special time. We are celebrating a religious holiday we call Harvest. We’ve spent months getting ready.”

“That’s great,” I said. “Just one more reason to let us get out of your hair.”

“You don’t understand,” Bryan said. “No one can pass through this area without receiving a special blessing. This is hallowed ground. You are standing in the promised land.”

“With all due respect,” I began in a voice that seemed anything but respectful—but Felicity cut me off.

“Then give us your blessing and we will be on our way,” she countered.

“I will be happy to give you my blessing, child,” he said, turning his full attention to her. “At the proper time and place.”

“Well how long is that gonna take?” I asked, flabbergasted.

“Don’t worry. It won’t be long. After the feast and the teaching tonight many will be blessed and baptized as the spirit moves through them. By morning you will feel like a different person.”

“Can’t you just give us your blessing now?” Felicity asked. “Why can’t we leave before the festival?”

“You could,” Bryan said calmly. “If you had gas in your car, which you won’t. Worldly work is frowned upon during Harvest time, especially after sundown. Besides, everyone is preparing for the great feast tonight. It truly is a special occasion. You’ll see.”

“Why didn’t they just let us barter for some gas and be on our way then?”

“I’m sorry, but it is the law,” Bryan said with a touch of genuine regret in his honeyed voice. “All new visitors must be questioned before being allowed to pass. The righteous have many enemies during this period before the Lord comes again. We can’t be too careful.”

“We’re not even adults yet,” I argued. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“You have killed before,” he said, staring directly into my eyes. “You would strike me down right now if I threatened harm to you or your friends. I have no doubt about that.”

A chill ran down my back as I felt Rowena’s hatred surge toward us.

“You must earn my blessing to leave,” he said. “I will be happy to grant it to you tomorrow so that you may be on your way. Until then I’d like you to think of yourselves as my guests. You will be staying with me tonight. I insist.”

Listening close by, Rowena looked both shocked and hurt by these words but she recovered quickly.

If that’s some kind of big honor he just bestowed on us, I thought, he can keep it.

Felicity slipped her hand into mine and gave it a squeeze. She was obviously just as scared by this turn of events as I was.

“Rowena, please show them to my quarters and stay with them,” Bryan said. “I will be along after I have a word with Darren.”

“As you wish,” she said, then turned to us. “Follow me.”

We were marched back out at gun point and across the yard to another entrance. On our way out I glanced over my shoulder and caught a glimpse of Darren skulking in and kneeling before Bryan Crowe.

Chapter Nineteen

“So what’s the deal with that guy Darren?” I asked, picking at the edges of the hem of my new clothes.

“He was kinda like my first boyfriend,” Felicity said.

“You sure know how to pick em.”

We were sitting in a large waiting room full of sofas and chairs. There were crosses on the walls and a Bible in the corner, but nothing else. No television, no reading material, nothing to occupy us except ourselves and our own thoughts.

After we were led off to Bryan Crowe’s private mansion and guest quarters, we were separated and treated to our own private tour of the immediate grounds. My guide was a kid about a year younger than me named Jonah. He was perfectly brainwashed to give the most banal sort of answer to any question I could come up with. He rattled off the great history of their leader, talking about his trials in the desert and how they mirrored the tales of Christ in the Bible. Jonah told me that Crowe was drawn to this special land by an angel of the Lord, that he settled here and prepared for the end of days as instructed by God. I did my best to follow along, but I was pretty bored after ten minutes. I started asking questions about the way things worked and what they thought the rest of the world was doing, trying to catch Jonah off guard and get him off topic, but he didn’t budge.

“You can’t trip me up with your worldly questions,” Jonah patiently explained. “I am a child of God now.”

I hated him with an unnatural intensity after that. I half wished a zombie would come along and bite him so I could do the honors of sending him off to his redeemer.

“I see, but aren’t we all God’s children, no matter what religion we practice?”

He glared at me. I was certain that it was only a matter of time until I was escorted to a mass grave site where troublesome visitors were disposed of. Instead I was taken to a private showering area and left to get clean, despite my numerous protests that I didn’t need another shower. I wasn’t really comfortable so I just splashed some water on myself and washed my face.

When I got out I found all my clothing gone. Instead, a neat new pile of bright white sheets that had been stitched into garments awaited me with my katana sitting on top.

Smooth move, I thought. Sneak in and snatch my clothes but leave my weapon. Smarter than you know. I would have torn this place apart to get it back.

I picked the garments up and held them out in front of me.

“What are we going to, a Klan rally?” I mumbled.

They fit well enough, and since I didn’t have any other options I put them on. It felt like I was wearing a cheap Halloween costume.

“Where are my clothes?” I asked when I came out of the bathroom to find Jonah patiently waiting for me.

“Civilian clothing is not appropriate for tonight’s festivities,” Jonah replied with a smile. “Your street clothes will be returned to you in the morning.”

I was tempted to say something smartass like don’t forget to use starch but I held it in. I just stared at him instead, trying to make the moment as uncomfortable as possible. They were keeping us as prisoners but kept acting like we’d actually chosen this. It was the least they deserved.

Jonah led me to the waiting room where I found Felicity wearing an equally disastrous pair of bed sheets stitched into the shape of an ugly dress. If this had been an episode of Project Runway, the designer would have been cruelly excoriated then sent home weeping. I tried not so successfully to stifle back a giggle. Felicity shot me a nasty glance for a warning.

“Hey,” I said, turning to Jonah. “When are we going to eat? I am starving and you’ve separated us from our resources.”

“Someone will be along shortly to take you to the feast,” Jonah said. “Have a blessed night.”

“Oh and you too, buddy,” I said, flashing him a fake smile. “Mahalo.”

He retreated out of the room, shutting the door behind him. I could hear the lock click into place.

Great, I thought. Once again I’m locked up like a caged animal. How do I keep getting myself into these situations?

After some time had passed and we realized we were probably alone, I took up the subject of Darren with her. She hadn’t seemed to want to talk about him much, but I had lots of questions. She tried her best to answer my inquiries in single word replies but I wasn’t backing down.

“He seems a lot older than you,” I said, referring to Darren. “That’s all.” A little voice in my head reminded me that just a few hours ago I thought Darren looked the same age as me. I promptly invited that little voice to shut the hell up.

“He was a senior in high school and I was still in junior high,” Felicity said. “It was before my acting career took off. It feels like forever ago.”

“Creepy. What kind of guy goes for a girl that young?”

“He is actually one of the sweetest, most genuine people I’ve ever met,” Felicity fired back, sounding annoyed by my persistent line of questioning. “It’s a small town with small town values. There was nothing creepy about it.”

“If you say so,” I said, trying to fight off my obvious jealousy. “He just seems a little weird.”

“Besides,” she said, ignoring my taunt, “all we ever did was hold hands. We never even kissed.”

“Never?”

“Not once. Are you satisfied? Can we stop playing Spanish Inquisition now?”

“No one ever expects the Spanish Inquisition,” I said in a high falsetto voice, but instead of laughing she just smirked. I was really under her skin today.

Does that mean she wishes she had kissed him? a little voice in the back of my head asked. I shouted it down yet again. I was disgusted with myself. Less than a week ago she didn’t exist and all that mattered was getting Benji to the safety of the base. Now I had no idea where Benji was or if he was safe and I was thinking about Felicity way too much for my own good.

“What do you know about this Bryan Crowe guy?” I asked, switching gears. “He is supposed to be the Messiah according to my new best friend, Jonah, but I don’t recall the Bible saying anything about Jesus holding people against their will at gunpoint.”

“He may not remember me, but I remember him,” Felicity said, shaking off a tremor that ran through her. “I was six years old and my friend Caley was having a birthday party. It was a big deal since her family was what we used to call wealthy back then. What?” She had turned to me when I made a face.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s just hard to think that there was a time in your life when you weren’t rich and famous.”

“I grew up dirt poor,” Felicity protested. “My mom and my sister and I didn’t have much after my dad left. We moved out here because it was cheap, and we lived in a rented mobile home for the first year after the divorce. I remember my only toy was a half melted Barbie with no clothes that I found abandoned in the sand lot. My mom cleaned her up and sewed her some new outfits. They weren’t much better than what we are wearing now, but they meant the world to me.”

“That must have been tough,” I said.

“It was,” she admitted, looking up and making eye contact with me. “Anyway, most of my grade school class was there. Bryan Crowe showed up to do magic tricks and make balloon animals for all the kids. It was a perfect day with a piñata and cake, but it ended strange. There was some commotion and then my mom came to get me and all the kids left at once.”

“What happened?”

“One of the kids had gone missing for over half an hour,” Felicity said. “They found her out near the stables with Bryan Crowe. Her dress was torn. She was eight.”

“So why didn’t they put him in jail then and there?”

“They tried, but they didn’t have any proof of wrong doing,” Felicity said. “The girl didn’t have any signs of abuse. She said she went to the stables on her own to look at the horses and he found her there. She said he just talked to her but she couldn’t remember about what. She didn’t know how her dress got torn. The police questioned the rest of us but nothing ever came of it. That was the end of his career as a kid’s party entertainer though.”

“I’ll bet. I’m sure word got around pretty fast after something like that. I’m surprised that he wasn’t at least run out of town.”

I expected her to argue about how easy going and permissive Ojai was, but her brow furrowed instead and she looked really upset.

“I started having nightmares about him. I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing him waiting for me in the dark in a clown costume. It got really bad. One day I begged my mom to tell me about him. I thought if she made him seem more human to me, I could get past my irrational fear.”

“What did she say?”

“At first she wouldn’t tell me anything.”

“That must have been frustrating,” I offered, trying to move the story along. I wanted to know as much about this guy as I could. What were his weaknesses, aside from young girls?

“She told me it wasn’t appropriate for kids. But I stuck with it, bugging her the way only a child can and eventually she caved,” she said. “She told me that he was a drifter. She said she didn’t know where he was originally from, that no one did, but everyone knew he arrived from Vegas as a failed magician. He’d gone there to show his act on the strip and had fallen flat on his face. Shortly after the incident at Caley’s party, he reinvented himself again.”

“Let me guess,” I said, “he became the Chosen One?”

“Pretty much. He set up in the old Jehovah’s Witness church and began preaching about peace and love.”

“I can’t believe anyone would even show up. I’m going out on a limb since I’ve never seen him pull a rabbit out of his hat, but I’m guessing his second coming routine is only slightly worse than his card tricks.”

“Are you kidding?” A fiery spark shone in her eyes as she recalled details from her pre-celebrity childhood. “This is Ojai, land of burnouts and hippies. He had an immediate following. They loved him! He stopped wearing black clothes and trying to look like Cris Angel and started looking more like a Biblical prophet with that ridiculous beard.”

“So what happened?”

“He set up a commune in the woods. People came from all over the world and lived there. You would see them dressed in white rags like the ones we’re wearing now, coming and going by foot into town. They were always smiling these big creepy smiles, like they were loaded out of their minds.”

“Let me guess,” I said, “it didn’t last. Something went wrong.”

“Sort of,” she answered. “At first it was quiet up in their commune. Everyone kept expecting something to happen, a sex scandal, a mass suicide, just something . . . but it never did. Eventually we just accepted them. They were another strange part of our crazy little town. Weird but harmless.”

“And then?”

“And then the kidnappings began,” Felicity said.

“Gee,” I blurted out, looking around the room, “why am I not surprised to hear that?”

“No. You’ve got it wrong. It’s the other way around. People began kidnapping his followers.”

“Who would want to do that?”

“Friends and family members of his devotees,” she explained. “It was in the national news. A rich heiress came to hear him speak one night and refused to leave. She gave everything she owned to him and became a true believer. Her parents were mortified. They hired a team of cult deprogrammers to kidnap her and undo the brainwashing.”

“Did this happen a lot or was it just the one incident?”

“That was the tip of the iceberg,” she continued “The heiress eventually went back to him. After that, it started happening all the time. Then Nightline did a special on it.”

“That’s crazy. I’m surprised I’ve never heard of him before.”

“So am I. He was pretty famous for a while. I remember being on location in Mexico and watching a repeat of a program about him on the crime channel on satellite television. It all seems like a strange dream now.”

“Or this is,” I said. “But I know what you mean. So what happened then?”

“It got to the point where any time you’d see a white van in town you got to wondering if there was a paid team of exit counselors hiding inside,” she told me. “Some of the people rescued starting telling stories about devotees being forced to take drugs and about group marriages conducted by the prophet. They said he had several brides.”

“So why didn’t the government step in and do something?”

“They did,” Felicity said. “They came in with armed SWAT and raided the compound. They hauled Bryan off to jail, practically parading him around town like some kind of martyr. The only problem is, they didn’t find anything.”

“Did someone tip him off they were coming?”

“Maybe. Who knows? All I know is that they questioned his followers and in the end they didn’t have anything to hold him on except a few misdemeanor permit violations that got dropped. All it did was make his faithful all the more devoted.”

“That’s probably when they started arming up,” I said.

“Makes sense,” she replied. “But that was almost ten years ago. I can’t imagine how much artillery they’d have by now.”

“Enough to keep us in line. So what do we do?”

“We could fight our way out. “We might not be able to get the SUV back but we could find Benji and head out on foot.”

“Don’t think it didn’t cross my mind,” I said. “They would cut us to pieces, starting with that chick Rowena. Plus we have no idea where Benji is or what state he’s in. For all we know, they’re holding him hostage to get us to behave. I think it’s strange he’s not here now.”

“Well we can’t just stay here forever,” she argued. “Who knows what he’ll do to us, to me?”

I realized for the first time that she was truly scared of him, of what he might try to do to her as a young woman. If he liked young girls ten years ago, chances were his habits hadn’t changed much.

“We’re going to have to go along with whatever he has planned,” I said. “At least for the time being, until we can figure out an escape plan. Try to blend in, I guess.”

“Xander,” she said with big pleading eyes. “I can’t.”

“I’m not saying you should offer yourself to him,” I said quickly. “That’s not what I meant at all. I’m just suggesting we start to give him the impression that he is winning us over to his freaky religion long enough to figure out how we are getting the hell out of here.”

“That’s like playing with fire,” she cautioned. “You know that right? A guy like Bryan Crowe can’t be reasoned with. You can’t cut a deal with him. In the end, all Bryan cares about is twisting and distorting reality until it fits the way he wants the world to be—his own.”

Before we could argue, the door was opened and Rowena came in toting her automatic weapon.

“It’s time,” she spat in disgust at the sight of us. “Get up and get moving.”

Chapter Twenty

We were marched out back across the main entrance again. I noticed right away that our vehicle was gone. Great, I thought. Any chance of jumping in and escaping was now long gone. I knew it wouldn’t be that easy but still it sucked to have my suspicions confirmed.

Rowena led us to a large outdoor area with cooking pits. There were six banquet style tables nearby that looked like they had been hewn out of large trees then sanded down and made into tables by a master craftsman. The ground was comprised of soft, dusty brown dirt with not a single rock or pine needle to catch your foot on. It was as level as the tables. The sun had set and at first the only light I could make out was coming from the pits. Then, as my eyes adjusted, I saw that there were low level lights on all the trees and structures. I squinted, trying to make out what they were when I heard Bryan’s ominous voice wash over me like a bucket of ice water.

“Bioluminescence,” he said. “It’s a natural, chemical reaction similar to the kind found in fireflies, only we use a special kind of concentrated bacteria that we cultivate ourselves. It’s called Luciferase, ironically enough. It’s taken from Satan’s original name when he was an angel—Lucifer, which means light bearer. He was the most beloved of all the angels once upon a time. Then things changed. I see you are dressed for a night of festivities.”

He stepped forward into the light to greet us.

“Where is Benji?” I asked gruffly. My rudeness didn’t throw him off a bit. He was in good spirits.

“He is around. He’s been playing a fierce game of capture the flag with the other kids. They’ve really taken to him.”

“Benji has that effect on people,” I said. “He’s a great kid.”

“I agree. Come now, join me at my table as my honored guests.”

Rowena fell back as we willingly followed him to the middle table and sat down. There were six young girls seated with him. I looked to Felicity to see that her features had hardened. She glared at Bryan. Before we could say anything, he let out a laugh that seemed to set Felicity more on edge.

“I can see from the disapproving look on your face that some introductions are in order,” Bryan said. “These are my wives.”

“All of them?” I asked, unable to help myself. They were all around our age or younger.

“I am very blessed,” he said with false modesty. He gestured around the table in a circle, naming each girl as he went. “This is Annabelle, Syriah, Leah, Tara, Beatrice, and Victoria. Say hello girls.”

“Hello,” they replied dutifully in unison like some kind of sideshow attraction.

“Isn’t it against the law to have more than one wife?” I asked. “No offense.”

“I am glad you asked.” Bryan smiled. “It is against man’s law but not God’s law. In the Old Testament we see many instances of polygamy. Moses had two wives, at least. Abraham had three known wives. Then there is the case of King Solomon who had seven hundred wives and three hundred concubines, and he was considered one of the wisest men to have ever walked the face of the earth!”

“How many wives does one man need?” Felicity fumed.

“I would say the perfect number is seven.” He winked at her. “It’s a holy number.”

“Seriously though,” I interjected. “Why do you need all these wives?”

“It is a responsibility and a privilege. I am blessed by God almighty who said we may take as many wives as we can comfortably maintain. Verily he tells us to go forth and be fruitful and multiply.”

“Amen,” said Leah, leaning over and kissing him on the mouth. She couldn’t be older than fifteen.

He could be her grandfather, I thought, grossed out by the sight. I did my best to hide my feelings.

“It’s time for the toast of the feast,” Bryan said, standing up.

I could see now that we were surrounded by devotees on all sides, watching our every move. Chefs stood by the fires with meats that looked like skewered rabbits and vegetables, waiting for the order. Another group of helpers moved from table to table filling glasses. Bryan already had a large, ornate bottle of his own red wine open. He poured a generous helping into the chalice in front of him and held it up.

“Brothers and sisters,” he began in a loud, booming voice that echoed out across the valley beyond the banquet area. “Tonight we join together to celebrate our great good fortune in being gathered as one family in the final days of our Lord and Savior. Praise God! Hallelujah!”

“Hallelujah!” A deafening chorus of hundreds joined in raising their glasses.

“As we come together in this special time of Harvest, let us not forget those blessed souls we have lost, those that have gone before us into the arms of the Lord.” Bryan bowed his head. “We will see them again in the promised land soon enough.”

A wave of amens crashed over us again.

“May the blood of the Lamb cleanse us of our sins and bring us peace.” He put the chalice to his lips and tipped it back, taking a strong gulp of wine before passing it to us.

“No thanks,” Felicity said, pushing it away.

“It’s important,” he pleaded in a soothing voice. “It’s part of our customs. Harvest lasts from sundown through the rise of the full moon. It begins with a drink of the blood of the Lamb, symbolizing the sacrifice that Jesus Christ made for us on the cross which washed away our sins. You see? You have to drink.”

“Fine,” she relented. “I’ll drink if it will shut you up already. To Jesus.” She tilted her head back and took a big swig. She set the cup back down on the table. “There. You happy?”

“I am happy for you,” he corrected. “You don’t know this since you are new but when you finish drinking you are to pass the cup to the person on your right. Then they drink. We repeat this until the offering is gone.”

“If you say so,” she said saucily. “I just hope we eat soon because I am not good at handling my liquor. I haven’t had a drink since rehab.”

She passed the cup to me and I took a sip. It was red wine but it tasted overly sweet, as if someone had added sugar to hide something else.

Don’t be paranoid, I told myself. You saw him drink out of it. If they wanted to kill you they could have taken you out a million different ways by now. All they’d have to do is march you to the tree line and gun you down, not secretly poison you.

I took a full swig and passed it to my right, to Syriah. She took a good sip and passed it on.

I could smell the meat had been put on the fires. It smelled good. Within ten minutes the cup had gone around several times and the bottle was empty. We were all laughing and smiling. I couldn’t feel my face. Although I wasn’t used to drinking, I knew this wasn’t from being drunk alone. I was right. There was some kind of drug in the wine. I felt happiness bursting in my chest and flowing through every part of me. Whatever it was, it felt good. I had no fear anymore—not of death or zombies or cult members holding us hostage. Feelings of love and peace and happiness washed over me again and again. Anything seemed possible. For a minute I thought I might be able to fly.

Pretty soon everything seemed to be running together. Food was brought to the table and we ate, but I don’t know what it was. Then the world began to spin and spin. People got up and danced and took off their clothing. I stood up and began searching for Benji. The last thing I recall was turning to see Felicity staring at one of the bio-luminescent lights on the trees and laughing over and over.

The next morning I woke up in an empty bedroom with a dull headache. The white of the walls seemed to be seeping into me and making me nauseous. I climbed out of bed and the whole room seemed to spin. The first thing I noticed was that I was naked. The next thing I noticed was that my normal clothing was left in a pile next to the bed.

Did I take off my clothes last night in front of everyone? I wondered, but I sure hoped not. What if Felicity had seen me naked? That would be super embarrassing!

I quickly put on my clothing then searched the pocket and found that the pills I had snatched from the bathroom at Jackson’s place were long gone. I had forgotten to mention them to Felicity so I couldn’t say anything. For a minute I wondered if that was what they fed us the night before, but then I realized they had made Felicity seem really calm. Whatever was in the wine we drank had the opposite effect. For all I knew it was ecstasy and angel dust.

Panic came over me as I realized I didn’t have my sword. The last place I recalled having it was at the dinner feast where I had set it on the table. Frantically I searched around the room. Relief washed over me as I found it propped against the wall in the corner. I checked the blade to make sure it was still clean then slid it over my shoulder and walked out.

In the living room I found a glass of water and two aspirin with a note telling me to meet up with them for breakfast when I felt better. I popped the sour white pills into my mouth and gulped down the liquid like a thirsty dog. My stomach felt like a gurgling pit of acid.

I threw open the door and stepped outside. The cool air felt good but the sun seemed to be burning a hole through my head. I began to hope the aspirin would kick in fast.

Jonah approached me with a kind smile. “How are you feeling today, brother?”

“I’m all right,” I said, trying to belie the pounding headache that was setting in.

“You sure seemed to be having fun last night,” he said with a smile.

“Funny,” I replied. “I can’t remember much of it.”

“That’s how it is when the spirit of the Lord takes over you.”

“Or when the drugs in the wine kick in,” I said. He laughed as if I was kidding but I just stared at him.

“All right then. I’ve been waiting for you. It’s my honor to take you on a tour of the grounds, after breakfast that is.”

“I’m gonna skip breakfast if you don’t mind,” I said as the nausea returned. “Just some bottled water would be nice.”

“Done.”

“Where is Benji?”

“I don’t know about your friend, Benji,” Jonah said. “He spent the night with the other kids. They have their own cabin across the way. Children tend to keep different hours than adults and we’ve found it’s best for all if they are kept separate.”

“And Felicity?”

“She got up about an hour ago. She went to see Bryan and I believe she is now on a tour with Darren.”

“Great,” I said with a fake smile. “That is just perfect.”

“I am glad you are pleased,” Jonah said with a genuine smile. It was obvious he really believed in all this religious stuff and was happy to be one of Bryan’s minions. “Shall we go then?”

“Lead the way,” I replied with a flourish of my hands.

The tour actually turned out to be pretty cool, against all odds. They were a highly skilled, self sufficient group of people who knew how to build, how to trap and hunt and fish and live off the land. They understood science and medicine. They were creative and smart and generally kind, if only just a little creepy. Everywhere we went they sang the praises of their messiah and wished us a happy Harvest.

The aspirin kicked in soon enough and my headache began to fade as my body returned to normal. I drank two large bottles of water Jonah provided for me and ate a stick of rabbit jerky he’d carefully wrapped in a strip of tan cloth for the tour. To his credit, Jonah never once gave in to my taunts or teasing or sarcastic remarks. Against my better judgment I began to like him. It was hard not to like the guy. He was just too nice!

He showed me a water purifying station they had set up and talked about their failed attempts to create a small power plant.

“We just don’t have enough fuel to power it. We’d need coal or gasoline or something strong, and in the end it wouldn’t be worth it for what we could generate and store. For now, we’ve found other ways around the problem.”

“Like bioluminescence?”

“Exactly,” he replied. “Or as we like to call it — God’s electricity.”

A group of kids across the way ran screaming into the woods. I thought I caught sight of Benji from behind, disappearing off in the high brush.

“Too bad you can’t harness the energy of all those kids,” I said. “You’d have more than enough to power the whole of California.”

“That’s the truth.”

I looked up and saw Felicity off in the distance with Darren, talking.

“What’s over there?” I pointed in their direction.

“The pits,” he said. “I’m not sure you’re ready to see them.”

“Nonsense. I’ve made leaps and bounds since this morning. I’m practically converted to your way of life.” I smiled.

He looked pensive but relented, probably realizing that I wouldn’t give in without a fight. “Try to keep an open mind,” he cautioned as he led the way.

Darren looked up and saw us coming. He had a frown on his face as he talked to Felicity. She had her back to us so I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Jonah smiled and waved to them and Darren waved back.

When we got close to the spot where they were standing, I began to smell a faint scent of death and decay. Then I heard the low moaning. Instantly my hand went to my sword in defense. Jonah calmly put his hand on my shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he said soothingly. “We are safe.”

We reached them and I looked past Felicity to see what she was staring down at. There was a natural ravine set into the side of the hill that had been dug out and covered over with metal bars. Inside were upwards of a hundred zombies milling about. Undead men, women, and children shuffled back and forth moaning and groaning. Occasionally one would lift its head, sniff the air, then snap with its rotten teeth in our direction.

“What the hell is that?” I was starting to lose my cool.

“Those are people,” Jonah replied. “Just like you or me, only they are suffering.”

“Those are zombies,” I countered. “They are dead, infected people.”

“Yes. Exactly.”

“So why are you keeping them penned up like that?”

“I knew he wouldn’t understand,” Darren said to Felicity.

“I’m not sure I do either,” Felicity replied, turning and taking me by the hand. “Why don’t you explain to us both again?”

Darren looked angrily at me. I tried my best to fight back the smile blossoming on my face.

“Okay then,” he said, regaining his composure. “We believe that the living dead are people just like the rest of us who have committed terrible sins and are now paying the price for their transgressions.”

“That’s pretty cold, man,” I said, but he stopped me.

“Let me finish. This is going to take a really long time if you keep interrupting every time you don’t understand something rather than just saving your questions for the end. Got it?”

“I’m good,” I said, puffing up my chest and pulling Felicity slightly closer to me.

“We have nothing but the greatest compassion for them. That’s why we care for them.”

“By keeping them penned up like animals?”

“Are you going to let me tell this story or not?”

I shook my head and Felicity squeezed my hand.

“Go on,” I said through clenched teeth.

“We don’t believe in killing people unless we have to, for self-defense,” he said. “These poor souls aren’t hurting anyone in there. We believe they are the dead that are referred to in the final book of the Bible, Revelations. We believe that when Christ returns to walk the earth he will be able to heal them, just as he did with the lepers of Galilee.”

“He shall raise them up just as he did with poor Lazarus,” Jonah said, “who had been dead for four days and returned to life as Christ commanded.”

“That’s right,” Darren said. “So until then we do our best to care for them and keep them out of harm’s way.” He stopped and stared at me, crossing his arms and waiting for me to say something harsh.

“What if they get out--” Felicity asked.

“It’s never happened,” Darren said before she could finish her sentence, shaking his head in disapproval. “Not once in all the time we’ve kept them here.”

“We are blessed with some very talented brothers and sisters,” Jonah said with a pleasant smile. “We like to believe the Lord is watching out for us.”

“What about the children?” I asked.

“What about them?” Darren cocked his eyebrow in surprise.

“They seem to run free all the time. It’s like Lord of the Flies out here. You know the kinds of trouble young kids can get into unsupervised. What if they were to fall in?”

“Like I said,” Darren repeated. “It’s never happened. Our kids may be young and free spirited, but they are smart enough to know when something is dangerous and avoid it.” He turned and shot me a challenging stare.

“What?” I asked defensively.

“I’m waiting for some insensitive comment. You seem to get such a kick out of spitting on our faith.”

“Sorry. I never considered keeping them penned up like this. I’ve spent the majority of my time since the outbreak either killing them or running from them. I never saw them in this light before. I couldn’t afford to be compassionate. I was fighting for my life and the lives of the people I cared about. This is just blowing my mind.”

“I guess I have had more time to adjust to it,” Darren said, softening at my confession. “I come up here every day.”

“Every day?” Felicity looked at him.

“Without fail.”

“Wow,” I replied. “Why are you so committed to them?”

“You see the woman with the ponytail?” He pointed to a zombie in dirty, sack like clothes not unlike the ones we’d worn the night before.

“Yeah.”

“That’s my wife, Nicole.”

Felicity leaned in and stared hard.

“Do you mean Nicole Boschard?”

“I do.” Darren fought back tears. His overreaction was starting to make a lot more sense. “We were married right after I got out of high school. We were trying to start a family when the outbreak happened. I can remember how afraid she used to be watching the news reports. It wasn’t until she accepted Jesus into her heart that she came to know peace. It doesn’t seem fair that she ended up here.”

“The Lord works in mysterious ways, brother,” Jonah said, putting his hand on Darren’s shoulder. Darren shook him off. “Let’s not relive this again now in front of our guests. Come away and let them talk among themselves while you regain your composure.”

Darren looked like he might punch a hole through Jonah’s face for a minute, but in the end he relented and they walked off a distance.

“That was . . .”

“Awkward.” Felicity finished my sentence.

“These people are crazy. Keeping zombies caged up like this and all the God talk. I can’t wait to get out of here.”

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself last night,” she said, looking up at me with a smile.

“I don’t know how to say this, so I am just going to come right out and ask.” My voice shook. “I don’t remember anything from last night. I am pretty sure we were drugged.”

“Me too. I’d say it was ecstasy or GHB from what I remember of my very short club days. So what’s your question?”

“I woke up with no clothes,” I said. “Did I get naked in front of everyone?”

She laughed at me. “Don’t worry. Almost everyone was naked. I didn’t see too much.” She gave me a wink.

“Wow. This is embarrassing.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s the least of our worries.”

“What is it now?”

“You mean aside from being held captive on a creepy religious compound?”

“Right,” I said.

She stopped laughing and got serious. “Bryan asked me to join his harem.” She looked down at her hands.

“When? Last night after he drugged us out?”

“No. He was a perfect host last night, aside from slipping us drugs. I think he was trying to be on his best behavior.”

“So when did he ask you to join his tribe of child brides then?” I noticed that my fists had clenched up in anger.

“This morning at breakfast. He asked if he could speak to me. I thought he was going to talk about Benji, but the next thing I knew he was telling me how beautiful I was, how God had a special plan for me. He said that God told him I should be his seventh sacred vessel or something like that.”

“I ought to cut his lousy head off,” I said as an ugly jolt of hatred surged through me. “Who does he think he is?!”

“He thinks he’s the Messiah!” She laughed a little at my overreaction. “Calm down, Xander. It’s not like I said yes.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him I was flattered.” She sighed, taking both my hands and twisting back and forth. Her cheeks flushed. “But that I didn’t feel in my heart that I belonged here. I told him I had feelings for someone else.”

“Yeah? Who’s that?” I was starting to lose all control. Usually I could just tell myself to calm down and things went back to normal. Ever since I had met this girl my emotions were all over the map. Now she was going to tell me that she was in love with her junior high crush Darren again and I was going to blow my top.

That’s why he gave her the tour this morning, I thought. They are sneaking away to confess their love for each other! He probably even wanted to get his wife’s blessing to take a new girlfriend. These people are sick and twisted!

Before I could get any more worked up, the unimaginable happened—Felicity leaned over and gently kissed me on the lips. Her lips were so soft and I could feel the slightest hint of her warm breath as she leaned in and pressed them to mine. For a moment it felt like the ground dropped out from under my feet. We were floating together in a bubble of light, far away from the cares of this messed up world. There was no Bryan Crowe, no zombies, only pure happiness and bliss that went on forever.

She pulled back first and stared nervously at me with her sea green eyes.

“Does that answer your question?” Her voice had a slight tremble in it.

It blew my mind that a celebrity like Felicity Jane could be worried in any way that I would reject her. In that moment she was totally vulnerable.

“It answers a lot of my questions about life,” I said with an impish grin.

She punched me playfully in the shoulder and bit her lip. I laughed. She took me by the hand again and we walked down to Jonah and Darren. I felt more confident than I can ever remember feeling in my life. Darren, on the other hand, looked sick to his stomach. His face looked pale and he avoided making eye contact the rest of the way back to camp. Jonah was just as oblivious as he had always been; blissfully unaware that anything had changed when, as far as I was concerned, everything in the whole world had just changed back up on that hill.

Chapter Twenty One

Bryan and Benji were waiting for us when we got back. They looked almost like a father and his son talking about the birds and the bees on a camping trip. Bryan rubbed Benji’s head, messing up his hair, and they both laughed. Smiles lit up both their faces when they saw us coming in.

“There they are,” Bryan said. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Great,” I said, meaning it for the first time I could remember.

“Fantastic . . . and you?” Bryan eyed Felicity with an unspoken intensity that made her squirm.

She gripped my hand tight. “I’m fine,” she said as pleasantly as she could manage.

“So,” he sounded like a used car salesman getting ready to wrap up a sale, “you’ve seen our lands, come to know our people and our way of life . . . what do you think?”

“It’s really amazing,” I said. “I admire the way you’ve managed to put all this together and keep everyone content.”

An unexpected smile flashed across his face, while Felicity turned and gawked at me in shock.

“That’s wonderful to hear.” He burst with glee. “The others will be so pleased to know you’re staying with us. You’re going to love it here. I can get you set up in your own dwelling by the end of the festival and then we just have to find you a job.”

I held up my hand to stop him. “That’s not necessary. We’re not staying. I need to get to my brother and let him know I’m okay. I appreciate your hospitality and ask for your blessing to leave.”

Bryan stared at us with a smile frozen on his face. He held his silence as if he was thinking hard—right up to the cusp of the exchange being truly awkward. “Does he speak for you as well?” He turned his full attention to Felicity, who seemed to almost wither under his glare.

“Yes. I’m not staying here. I’m with Xander.”

Suddenly, Darren turned and stormed off toward the road. I followed him with my eyes but the rest of the group just ignored him.

“Of course,” Bryan said, the fake note of sympathy returning to his voice. “I understand. I give you both my blessing. As of last night you may consider yourselves honorary members of our church. Please feel free to return any time you like and visit.”

This is too easy, I thought. There has to be a catch. It’s almost like he’s trying to get us to leave but I can’t figure out why.

“Okay then,” I said. “Now if we can just have our vehicle back, we’ll be on our way.”

“Jonah,” Bryan said. “Would you please bring their car around?”

Jonah wordlessly jumped to obey his command, running off toward the tree line. We all sat there for a while in awkward silence trying not to look at each other.

“What have you been up to?” I said to Benji to try to lighten the mood.

“I’ve been having the most amazing time.”

“That’s great,” I replied, feeling glad that Bryan had kept his word about not hurting children, other than the ones he illegally married.

“I’ve been playing in the woods and made all sorts of new friends. It’s wonderful here.”

Bryan smirked at his words, cocking his head toward us in an I told you so look.

“I’m glad you’ve been having fun,” I said.

“I’ve been learning a lot too.”

“Like what?” Felicity asked.

“Did you know that my family is alive and well right now in heaven? It’s true. I’m going to get to see them all again when Jesus comes back to lead the armies of the righteous against the children of the damned.”

It was like something from a horror movie come to life. They’d used the kids against us to turn Benji’s head and fill it full of religious nonsense. They were manipulating him with the death of his family. I glared at Bryan, who returned my burning gaze without shame or remorse. How could they do this to children? How could they fill him with fairy tales about the death of his family, then use that hope to make him do what they wanted?

That’s the real sin, I thought. Giving Benji false hope to use him against us as a weapon.

Bryan seemed so resolute in his faith. That’s what made it all work. I realized as he held my stare for an uncanny length of time that his real power was that he didn’t just say these things to his followers, he truly believed them. In his mind not only did God speak to him but he guided him to this place and kept him and his followers safe from the end of the world.

“Grab your stuff, Benji,” I said. “We’re going.”

Bryan Crowe didn’t offer a word.

“No. I’m staying here.”

My head spun around in shock and anger. “Are you kidding me right now?”

“I like it here. There are plenty of other kids my age and we get to play together, and best of all the zombies can’t hurt me anymore.”

“These people are strangers. How do you know they will protect you?”

“You were a stranger once too,” he protested. “And you took care of me.”

“That’s right,” I practically shouted. “I did. I’ve watched out for you since those kids picked on you at Vandenberg and I still am looking out for you. It’s my job to keep you safe.”

“This is where I belong now. It’s safe for me here. At last I don’t have to worry.”

“You said we were family now,” Felicity said softly, kneeling down to his level and brushing the hair out of his eyes. “You sure you don’t want to stay with your family?”

“All of these people are one big family too,” Benji said, getting a little overexcited. “Just like we are. Xander has to go to find his brother, but you could stay here with me. Maybe when Xander is done fighting he could come back and live here with us.”

“That sounds like a wonderful plan,” Bryan interjected.

“No,” Felicity said, looking up and into Bryan’s eyes. “I can’t stay here.”

“Why not?” Benji was practically pleading with her.

“You’re just going to have to take my word on it, little man,” Felicity said, kissing him on the head. “It’s not safe for me or Xander here anymore.”

“Enough,” Bryan said in a firm tone. “The child has decided to stay of his own free will. You must respect his decision.”

I turned to look at Felicity and she shrugged.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” I asked Benji, and he nodded that it was. “Okay then. I guess this is where we part ways.”

I walked over to Bryan. He puffed out his chest as I approached and several of his guards readied their weapons just in case I started a fight.

“Please take good care of him.”

“You have my word,” he replied. “His soul is in my care now.”

“I will be back to check on him. If anything is out of place, you’ll have to answer to me.”

“There is no need for threats here,” Bryan simpered. “Particularly on this holy day. I’ve already told you that you are welcome to visit whenever you like.” He looked over to Felicity and she scowled at him in contempt. “Both of you.”

“You can count on it,” I said.

Jonah pulled up in our Lexus and stopped, getting out. He signaled to Bryan, who turned back to us.

“A full tank of gas as promised,” he said. “I give you my blessing and wish you peace and love in the Lord’s name as you head on your way. Amen.”

The entire congregation behind us sang out a matching chorus of amens that practically shook the leaves from the trees. I couldn’t believe we were really going to leave Benji behind, that this was actually happening. There was nothing I could do about it. I climbed into the Lexus and shut the door. Felicity kissed Benji goodbye one last time then joined me.

We pulled out slowly onto the road heading out of town. Felicity made a quick sweep of the vehicle to check for our belongings. They were all there, including the bear she had given Benji named Rasputin. She held it in her lap as we drove and didn’t say anything. A tear escaped her eye and she quickly wiped it away. I pretended not to notice as I was dealing with my own feelings as well.

The tents on the side of the road were abandoned now. The roads were virtually empty of people as we made our way out of town.

I turned to Felicity. “Don’t you think it’s weird that Darren ran off like that?”

“I thought you didn’t like him,” she said, not looking at me.

“I can’t honestly say that I do.”

“Maybe it was just too painful for him to say goodbye. Or maybe Bryan wouldn’t let him come. Maybe after he heard about Bryan trying to convince me to be his sacred seventh bride he was afraid he might flip out on him . . . or on you. For all we know, he could be locked up in cult jail right now somewhere back there.”

“That’s true,” I said taking her words in. “Did we do the right thing back there, leaving Benji behind?”

“I don’t know.” She sighed. “He said it’s what he wanted but he’s just a kid. He doesn’t understand how dangerous those people can be. It’s like he’s blinded by their sense of community.”

“He lost his entire family right before his eyes. I can understand the appeal of wanting to believe they are in heaven and that he is going to see them again one day, of wanting a loving, supportive family that repeats that message over and over again. That’s pretty irresistible stuff.”

“But why do they want him?” she asked. “Why go to such effort for just one kid?”

“I don’t know. I guess it’s just what cults do. They recruit people and convert them. It’s their only function really if you think about it. Spread the message.”

“Like a virus.”

We drove for a while longer in silence until we reached the end of the winding canyons that led to a straight stretch back to the 101 Freeway. I was just getting ready to punch it when, without warning, a man came running out onto the highway in front of us, waving his arms. I hit the brakes and the Lexus came to a halt, skidding past and nearly clipping him. A few inches to the left and he would have been tagged by the tail end of the SUV.

“What the hell was that?” Felicity screamed.

“I don’t know,” I said, then amended my statement. “A man waving his arms. He looked normal, you know, as in alive.”

Felicity looked in her side mirror.

“It’s him. It’s Darren.”

“Jesus.” I gasped. “He scared the hell out of me. Why did he do that?”

She was out of the car before I was finished talking. She ran up to him and shoved him hard in the chest. I unbuckled my seat belt, threw open the door, and hurried over to join them.

“What was that for?” She looked angry as she shoved him again. “You trying to get us killed? Huh?! Or are you just trying to kill yourself by taking the coward’s way out?”

“I had to stop you,” he panted, scared and out of breath. “I couldn’t let you leave.”

“Why’s that?” My blade was unsheathed in my hand, reflecting the fading sun light. I hadn’t noticed taking it out. Must have been force of habit.

“Your friend, Benji.”

“What about him?” Felicity demanded. If she still had feelings for this guy they were fading fast.

“They are going to sacrifice him. That’s why they wanted him to stay.”

“Start explaining fast,” I threatened, my hand gripping my sword harder.

“The Harvest festival,” he said, gulping down air with his hands on his knees and a terrified look on his face.

“We know,” Felicity said. “We were both drugged then baptized last night, remember?”

“But they left Benji alone because he’s just a kid,” I said.

“Wrong,” Darren finally straightened up as he spoke. “It’s because he’s an outsider, a stranger no one will miss. Do you remember those zombie pits I showed you this morning?”

“Where you wife is.” Felicity shook her head.

“What about them?” I asked.

“Bryan doesn’t believe in killing zombies. He says they are the damned but that we should have mercy on them.”

“You kinda covered all this earlier,” I said impatiently. “Get to the part where they want to hurt our friend before I cut you in half for almost running us off the road.” I took a step toward him and he held up his hand to fend me off.

“Hold on. My wife wasn’t just attacked by a zombie at our house on Z-day and rounded up. She was sacrificed during a Harvest celebration to them. An offering is selected and placed in the pits for them to feast on.”

“That’s horrible.” Felicity gasped, covering her mouth with her hands.

“Bryan says it’s God’s will and that when Christ comes back he will redeem them. The others believe it helps keep us safe from zombie attacks, but I know what it’s really about.”

“What’s that?” I loosened my grip on my weapon. He was obviously in a great deal of emotional pain thinking about his wife as he spoke.

“Control,” he said. “Keeping us in line. You see, the whole process is supposed to be a lottery. All our names go into a jar and he selects. God guides him to the sinner who must be cleansed, or that’s what he told us. We all know it’s not true.”

“That’s why he wanted us to stay,” Felicity said. “We’re sinners in their eyes.”

“Precisely,” Darren said. “Nobody is attached to you. No one is going to miss you. They’ll just assume you’re paying for your earthly transgressions. That way Bryan gets to keep his facade up and no one steps out of line. He does this four times a year and almost every time it’s been an outsider. The last time, he kept a couple of hikers he found and locked them in his house for three weeks.”

“Who was his first victim?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

“Town sheriff,” Darren said.

“Figures. Get him out of the way. So why didn’t he choose me? I’m obviously the sinner in this group. Half of those people would probably cheer to see me get eaten. Why pick a kid?”

“Less of a fight, I suppose.” Darren shrugged. “It’s not the first time this has happened. They make him feel special and welcome, like he belongs, then once you are out of the way, they give him the bad news. By then it’s too late. They are probably telling him right now. From what I’ve seen they don’t like to wait.”

“I told him I was coming back,” I said. “How did he plan on explaining Benji’s transformation?”

“He wouldn’t have to,” Darren said. “He’d just make up a story that Benji had gone off in search of you and you’d never be the wiser. Like I said, he’s thought of everything.”

“What time is the Harvest sacrifice?” Felicity asked in a panic. “They can’t kill him right away can they? We’ve got to go back and save him!”

“When the full moon reaches its peak,” Darren said. “Like I said, they’ve probably already begun preparing him. There is a purification ritual for the offering that involves prayer and a sedative. They want him as docile as possible when the time comes.”

“If they give him anything like what they slipped us last night he won’t even know what’s happening,” I said.

“Then we have to go now!” Felicity’s voice cracked in desperation. “Get in. You’re coming with us.”

Darren didn’t hesitate. We all ran back to the Lexus and swung it around, heading back into town.

“You’re going to have to forgive me for asking this,” I began, “but why are you helping us again?”

“I will never forget the look in my wife’s eyes,” Darren said, lost in thought. “She wasn’t afraid anymore. It’s like she wasn’t even there. She was already one of them. Every day I go down to the pits to see her, hoping for a sign of life in those dead eyes. Something, anything, that tells me she remembers me. I keep hoping that he is right, that she is with the Lord and that he can bring her back on Judgment Day, but I know now that’s just a bedtime story they tell the small children. She’s not coming back, not to her old life, not to the world of sin. I can’t let that happen to another person. I can’t bear that weight on my conscience.”

“Why did he choose your wife?” I wasn’t trying to be insensitive, but I wasn’t sure I understood. I wanted to know everything I could before I faced him again.

“To keep me under control. I asked too many questions, challenged him. You see, I didn’t think it was right that he had all those young brides. My wife didn’t either. She got me riled up and I began to enjoy putting him on the spot in front of the others. I think I embarrassed him over it one too many times.”

“And here I figured he didn’t care what anyone thought,” I said sarcastically.

“After her Harvest I stopped asking questions. I’ve blindly obeyed him until you came back into my life. I thought he was the Messiah, sent to save us all, but now I can see I was just a fool who wanted something to believe in.”

Felicity kindly patted him on the arm and he hung his head.

I raced back as fast as I could without flipping the SUV in the narrow canyon curves. By the time I came around the corner, I could see a large crowd had gathered.

Darren was right, I thought.

Bryan wasn’t wasting any time at all. We’d been gone less than thirty minutes and his diabolical plan was already well under way.

I drove the SUV right up and through the large crowd. People moved out of our way like drugged sheep as we approached the inner circle where Crowe was. I wondered if they were still feeling the effects of last night’s revelry or if they had been freshly dosed again.

It makes sense, I thought. It’s not normal to kill a child. The only way he can get them to go along with it is to keep them loaded on the blood of the Lamb, whatever that concoction is. That way no one else’s conscience gets in the way. Too bad he hadn’t given a double dose to Darren. Maybe he was planning on drugging him too. Maybe that’s why he ran away.

“The cleansing ritual has already begun,” Darren said, pointing to a small figure at Crowe’s side.

Sure enough it was Benji, dressed in white robes, swaying back and forth. I slammed the car in park and jumped out with my sword ready to taste blood. Instantly a ring of armed guards surrounded Bryan. He didn’t seem the least bit concerned.

So that’s why they sent us out on a tour of the promised land earlier, I thought. They were getting us out of the way while they prepared the sacrificial ritual.

They could have slipped Benji something before we got back so he’d be ready. Bryan knew we wouldn’t stay. He knew that one way or another I would leave. He’d been playing us since the moment we arrived, knowing he could pull Benji away from us. He was truly evil down to the core.

“What are you doing here?” Bryan glanced up and saw Darren slinking out of the car. “Ah, I see. Judas has brought you back to spread discord like a serpent in the garden.”

“Let him go,” I shouted, “or so help me I will cut your head off where you stand and throw your corpse to the zombies.”

“You wouldn’t make it three steps in my direction.” He laughed. “You are in my world now. Mind your manners or I will make things more difficult for you than you can imagine.”

“Benji! Benji get over here right now,” Felicity called out to him, but he didn’t move. I could see his eyes were large and nearly solid black. It was no use. They had already administered the sedative. He was so drugged out he didn’t even know what was happening.

“It’s too late for your friend,” Bryan said. “He’s already been cleansed and had his soul sent to God above. He was a very brave little boy. He will be missed, but we will see him again when the Lord returns. Amen.”

The chorus of each loud, echoing amen was almost deafening. Were they mad? They were willing to kill an innocent kid to appease some false prophet? I wheeled around to see that many in the crowd had the same drugged look on their faces that Benji had. They weren’t crazy, or not entirely. They were high.

“What did you give him?” I asked, fearing that he might be poisoned beyond saving.

“He drank from the blood of the Lamb,” Bryan said. “His soul is now clean as the fresh white snow and at peace. He is ready for the Lord to receive him. When the moon reaches the peak of the sky, he will enter into the kingdom of heaven and take his place beside God at the throne.”

“The hell he will,” Felicity said, fighting her way through them then holding Benji. She looked frantic.

“You promised to take care of him,” I shouted. “You lied to us in front of all these people just so you could do your sick ritual!”

“I know it appears that way, but you are wrong. It’s been decided,” Bryan boomed. “Just as Abraham was told by God to sacrifice his only son, just as God himself gave up his only child to save the sinful world, so too now must we offer up this child to protect ourselves from the children of the damned. It is out of my hands. There is no other way but his way. God’s will be done.”

“We’re not going to let you take our friend and throw him into a pit of flesh eating zombies, pal.”

“I don’t see how you can stop me,” he said in a smaller voice, so only the immediate circle could hear. “You are outnumbered in every way imaginable and we have the might of the one true God on our side.”

“You will pay for this. If it is the last thing I do.”

“If you are suggesting violence, again I assure you it will be the last thing that you do. Know that I am ready to die for my beliefs. I have nothing to hide from my God. Can you say that?”

“Nothing to hide?” I roared. “Except the murder of innocent people and your harem of child brides you mean?”

“This is pointless. Arguing with the damned about God’s sacred laws is like pouring clean water into a dirty cup and expecting it to remain pure. You are obviously sent of the devil to disrupt a sacred ritual during a holy celebration. Either you leave immediately and never return or I will be forced to take matters into my own hands.”

“It’s against spiritual law to spill blood on this day,” Darren shouted, stepping up to Bryan. “You said it yourself. Only they who are worthy to be received into the kingdom of God shall have their blood spilled on this sacred day.”

“What’s the policy on freeing the sacrifice and letting him leave with the people who love him?” Felicity hugged Benji to her.

“Once a sacrifice has been selected the ritual must proceed,” Darren said.

“There,” Bryan interrupted. “From the mouths of apostates come truths even he can’t deny.”

“However,” Darren continued, “A volunteer may come forward to take their place. I didn’t learn about that until after you took my wife from me. If I had known, I would be in that pit right now instead of her.”

“She was chosen by God,” Bryan hissed. “You should be so lucky.”

“Then I volunteer,” Felicity shouted.

Darren, Crowe, and I all spun around to her at the same time. In fact, she had the whole crowds’ full attention.

“There has never been a volunteer before,” Bryan mumbled, shocked by her words. “Do you fully understand what you are committing to, young lady?”

“I do. I will not just stand by while you kill him. He’s my family now, whether he likes it or not.”

“Fine. Release him and take her to the cleansing room to be prepared.”

The guards immediately seized her.

“No!” I shouted, pushing my way forward.

“As for you,” Bryan said, “you are to take him and leave at once. The devil and his minions are not welcome here. This is your final warning, or so help me God I will strike you down and make it another first during this sacred day.”

“Darren,” I shouted. “Do something!”

Darren looked sick to his stomach as he watched Felicity being pulled away. He seemed crippled with fear and unable to move. My mind began to race, trying to think of a way to save her. Every approach I considered seemed futile. Bryan Crowe was right. We were outnumbered. There was only one way to win her back. I would have to take her place.

I knew I could take on zombies in hand-to-hand combat, but not if I was drugged out. Maybe if I tried hard enough I could overcome the poison, or manage to spit it out. Either way, I had to do something. I couldn’t just let them take Felicity away and kill her. I opened my mouth to speak but the words came out of Darren’s lips instead of mine.

“I volunteer,” he said. “I will take her place in the pit.”

Bryan groaned. This was turning into much more of a hassle than he had imagined.

I was almost close enough to him now to make a move, but I knew his devoted followers would gladly take the impact of my blade in order to lay down their lives for their savior.

“No,” Felicity said. “I can’t let you.”

“Are you sure?” Bryan asked, looking almost bored by now. “You won’t be able to change your mind when she is gone, you know. Think about what you are doing, Darren.”

“I should have done it long ago. I belong in the pit with my wife.”

“Let her go,” Bryan said, practically rolling his eyes.

Felicity ran forward and hugged Darren. “You are so brave. So amazingly, wonderfully, brave and stupid.”

“It’s the right thing to do,” Darren said. “I knew what he was planning the minute you pulled into town. I should have said something before. I’m not brave. I’m a coward.”

She silenced him with a long kiss that hushed the crowd. A twinge of jealousy shot through me at the sight, but I pushed it back.

The guy is sacrificing his life for her, I thought, for all of us. The least he deserves is a goodbye kiss from his first love.

Darren pulled back and smiled.

“I will never forget you,” she said, staring into his eyes.

“I never did forget you. I love you. I always have and I always will.”

“I love you too.” A fresh round of tears burst out of her eyes. She hugged him tightly as he turned to me.

“Take good care of her,” he said. “I want you all to have a long, healthy life filled with happiness and joy. I’m paying the ultimate price for it.”

“I will,” I said, my mouth going dry at his words. “I promise.”

“Time to go now.” He pulled away from Felicity. “Don’t worry. I won’t feel a thing. I won’t even know it happened.”

Two guards led Darren off through the crowd to wherever Bryan did his purification ritual. I turned and glared at him.

“Well?” He glared back. “You got what you wanted. What are you waiting for?”

“Nothing,” I spat.

Felicity grabbed Benji and led him to the car. I got behind the wheel and slowly began to back up and out of the crowd. They parted for us, leaving a wide circle to flip the car around. The last thing I saw as I looked back was Bryan’s shark-like eyes glaring at us in utter contempt as we pulled away.

Felicity rode in the back with Benji, who looked very ill. He was sweating out the toxins of whatever they had given him. Even though it was warm in the car, he violently shivered every few seconds from head to toe.

“It’s okay now,” she cooed. “You are safe. Everything is going to be okay.”

I pulled off the dirt road and back onto the highway out of town. I slammed my foot down to the floor and the car rapidly accelerated. Felicity didn’t say a thing. If anyone decided to jump out in front of our car now, they were getting run over. One way or another I was getting the hell out of this town for good.

Chapter Twenty Two

The drive back to the 101 Freeway seemed far bumpier than the ride in. A cloud of black smoke rose off in the distance in the direction we were heading, and I hoped it wouldn’t be something that was gonna slow us down. I wanted to get to the base as soon as I could and have Benji looked at by medics. He seemed to be coming around some as we drove on, but I couldn’t be sure how much they’d given him or how it was affecting his circulation.

Felicity cradled his head in her lap and silently cried. I wasn’t about to try to comfort her after what had just happened. What could I say? I just felt lucky to have escaped with my friends and my life. That unexpected confession and kiss we shared up on the ridge was still floating around the edge of my consciousness, but it was slightly tainted now by everything else that had happened.

Benji let out a moan and writhed around. Felicity looked up at me with concern.

“Hang in there, buddy,” I said. “We’ll be there soon.”

We connected onto the 101 and headed south without incident. As we drove through the remains of Ventura, I couldn’t help but think how much it looked like a Hollywood movie set for the end of the world. Like the kind you might see on a back lot tour of Universal Studios—only there were real dead bodies everywhere. Smashed cars littered the road. There were so many I had to slow down to maneuver through them. At one point I had to push a car out of the way with my front bumper.

Benji sat up. “What’s happening?” He looked groggy, but otherwise okay.

“We’re passing through what’s left of Ventura,” I said. “Just pushing some scrap metal out of the road to get through. How you feeling?”

“My head hurts.” He moaned. “And I am really thirsty.”

“That sounds about right. We’ve got plenty of water. Go ahead and crack open a bottle.”

Felicity was already on it. She reached back behind the seat and brought out a couple of water bottles, unscrewing the lid of one and handing it to him. Benji gulped it down as fast as he could and moved on to a second bottle.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Felicity asked.

“I’m not sure. It was all like a dream.”

“Try to think,” I urged him on. “Did they give you something?”

“That’s just it. I don’t remember taking anything. One minute I was watching you drive off, and the next thing I knew everyone was gathering around Bryan and me and crying and praying. I started to feel kinda funny, like my head wasn’t really attached to my body. My heart felt full of love, like it could burst out of my chest, you know? For a moment I thought maybe I had caught the holy spirit they are always talking about.”

“They must have slipped it to you before we left,” I butted in.

“Go on,” Felicity cooed. “What happened then?”

“I can only remember parts. I was in a big white room. They kept giving me some kind of sour grape juice to drink while I was changing into these.” He gestured to his homemade sacrificial outfit.

“How much did you drink, buddy?” I needed to know he wasn’t going to fall over and die on us. Even though he was talking, he still looked pretty sick.

“Not much,” he said. “It tasted funny. They kept telling me to drink but I’d only take small sips.”

“What else did they tell you?”

“They said I was going to a place where there was no more pain or suffering. I remember that because they said my family would be waiting for me there. One of the girls was singing some hymn and crying, but it didn’t seem weird. Her tears were glistening on her face like she was an angel. That’s the last thing I remember, other than waking up here. What happened?”

“They were going to kill you,” Felicity said. “They wanted to sacrifice you to the zombies for some religious ceremony. They were trying to get us out of the way so we wouldn’t interfere.”

That seemed to sober him up a bit. He sat up and stared at her.

“What happened? How did I escape?”

“She saved your life,” I said. “Felicity offered to take your place. She was ready to die for you, but in the end they settled for one of their own instead.”

Benji turned and gaped at Felicity.

“Why?”

“Because,” she said. “We’re family now. I couldn’t let them hurt my little brother.”

“I am really glad we met you,” he said.

“Me too, kiddo.”

She kissed him on the forehead again. Benji looked past me out the front windshield. He pointed off in the distance.

“What is that?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Looks like some kind of fire.”

We came around the corner and the Pacific Ocean burst into view. The Ventura pier was completely on fire. I didn’t even know how that was possible. It was eerily beautiful in a post-apocalyptic way. We marveled at it in silent wonder.

Just past the pier we ran into a full flock of zombies ambling across the freeway in search of food. They looked like a herd of cows that had wandered from a field to block traffic, but in this case they most likely wandered onto the interstate to find and eat drivers in stalled cars.

“Lock the doors,” I yelled.

“They are locked,” Felicity hollered back.

“Good.” I calmed down. “Then buckle up and hold on. We may have to hit a few to get past.”

“Be careful,” she cautioned.

I didn’t want to slow down but I knew from firsthand experience that speeding up could be disastrous. The zombies would not get out of the way. We were going to have to hit them to get through. The last thing we needed was to be stalled out in a zombie horde with no way to escape.

“What’s the plan here?” Felicity asked.

“Drive straight through,” I said, nudging the car forward.

Instantly they were on us. The zombies surrounded all sides of the car and began beating their fists against the windows. Either this batch of the dead were smarter than the rest or they were starting to learn to work together. The car rocked back and forth and Benji began to freak out.

“I don’t want to die!” he screamed at the top of his lungs.

“We’re not going to die out here,” I said, giving the car some gas and running down a couple of flesh hungry monsters in the process. “Just relax.”

The words were barely out of my mouth when a big man in a tattered blue Mammoth Mountain hoodie punched through the window and grabbed Benji by the arm. We all screamed at the same time. There was shattered glass all over the backseat. I tried to turn around and hit the man but my seat belt kept me locked in place.

Now that would be an ironic way to die, I thought. Trapped in a car by a seat belt. I thought these things were supposed to save lives.

Felicity began beating the man in the head as he tried to pull his weight up and into the car to get a bite of either of them. I hit the seat belt release and swung around, punching the man square on the top of the head and driving him out of the car.

“Get us the hell out of here!” Felicity screamed.

I slid back down in the driver’s seat and hit the gas. We accelerated hard and ran over several zombies in a row. They made loud thumping sounds as their upper torsos slammed into the hood, in one case denting it. I could feel the tires going over the ones we’d hit, like large and gruesome speed bumps. Up ahead to the left there was a break in the horde. I turned the wheel and floored it that way. A woman’s arm hit the side of the windshield, causing it to crack into a brilliant spider web of broken glass.

We were free again. The road ahead was not obstructed. I looked in the rearview mirror, expecting to see a line of carnage we’d cut across the horde. Instead they had just reformed and began slowly lumbering after us.

“Is everyone okay?” I asked. “Anyone bit or injured?”

“We’re fine,” Felicity said in a shaky voice. “That was close.”

“What about you Benji?”

“I’m fine,” he said. “He grabbed me but he didn’t get a chance to bite me. Man, he smelled horrible. I can still smell it.”

“Good. I’m glad we’re all in one piece.”

“That was rough,” Felicity admitted.

“You look like you sobered up a bit,” I said to Benji.

“Yeah. I’m just hungry now.”

“Don’t worry. It looks like we’re almost in Oxnard now. We’ll stop up here in a bit and make some of that space-age grub that we brought with us from Jackson’s place. I’m personally looking forward to trying some exotic cuisine.”

“So close to the base?” Felicity seemed shocked by my plan.

“They’ll take everything once we get there,” Benji explained. “At Vandenberg the only thing they left me were my comics.”

“That’s right,” I said in my best old timers panhandler impression I could muster. “And I’ve been dreaming about them there fancy pancakes since yesterday.”

Felicity and Benji’s laughter was cut short by the sound of several hard thuds hitting the side of the car.

“What the hell was that?” Felicity managed to get the question out just as the answer came.

Several men dressed like rogue warriors from a Mad Max movie came running out onto the highway, pointing weapons at us and firing. They hit the side of the car again. The air was filled with the sound of metal pinging on metal and then the passenger side window shattered and sprayed me with glass. I shook my head to free the loose shards from my hair.

“Get down!” I hollered.

A man with a bright pink Mohawk, wearing dusty outdated military gear, ran out in front of the car. In his hands he carried a bow and arrow. He raised them up and took aim directly at me. There was no time to swerve and I worried I might flip the car. I slid down in my seat and punched the gas pedal hard. I could hear the man’s legs crack as the front of the Lexus slammed into him. He screamed in agony and flew over the top of the car, but I didn’t stop.

Steam poured up from the radiator. The temperature gauge began to rise. The check engine light went on. Worst of all, the fuel gauge began to fall. I didn’t know if we were really leaking gas or if we’d just damaged the sensor in some way. Either way, it looked like we were going to have to abandon the car sooner than I thought.

“Damn,” I yelled. “We’re not gonna make it. We were so close!” I punched the steering wheel in anger.

“Who are those people?” Felicity asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, feeling the panic rise up in me. “But I am guessing they’re not friendly.”

“What are we gonna do?” Benji asked.

“I’ve got to get us off the freeway. We’re leaking fuel and we need to find cover in case they track us.”

“Won’t the zombie horde take them out?” Felicity asked.

“We can’t count on that, but I sure hope so.”

I saw a place in the road where it came level with the city streets and I jumped the barrier, popping the back left tire in the process.

“Hold on,” I screamed as the car shot like a bullet over the succulent covered divider and onto the asphalt. Sparks flew out from the back of the Lexus like Fourth of July fireworks as the rim hit the ground.

“I thought you said we were leaking gas,” Felicity shouted over the sound of rushing wind coming through the smashed windows.

“I’m pretty sure we are,” I said, doing my best to keep the car under control as I rammed up and over another curb and into a mall parking lot.

“Oh my God,” Felicity wailed.

“What?”

“The car is on fire!”

I looked in the rearview mirror but couldn’t see it. My first thought was that we were going to explode, like when a car is hit in the movies. I slammed on the brakes and the car skidded to a stop, wrapping around the concrete base of a light fixture near the entrance to Macy’s. I turned around to find Felicity and Benji huddled together in the back, waiting for the explosion.

“Don’t just sit there,” I shouted. “Get out now!”

They yanked open the door on the side that wasn’t smashed into a pole and scurried out. I threw mine open, grabbed my katana, and bolted.

My head hurt and I was feeling slightly disoriented and dizzy. Something warm and sticky ran down my face. I reached up and discovered it stung when I touched the top of my head. I stared at my hand when I saw it was covered with blood.

You must have smashed your head into the windshield in the accident, I thought. It’s not going to kill you but whoever those people are might. Plus there could be zombies out here. You’ve got to stay calm and find cover. Whatever you do, you have to stay awake and not panic.

My little motivational pep talk was working. I motioned for Felicity and Benji to join me.

Felicity held her hands over her mouth when she saw me.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I lied. “It’s just a scratch. We’ve got to keep moving.”

“What about the car?” Benji asked. “All our supplies are in there.”

“The car is done. It’s just a matter of minutes before it goes up in flames, leading those people to us and probably another horde of zombies as well.”

“What are we supposed to do?” Felicity asked. “We can’t just go on foot.”

“For now, it’s our only option,” I argued. “We’re pretty close now to the base. I say we cut across the mall and head toward the coast. We can use it as a guide to make sure we stay on course. If we keep walking, we’ll reach Hueneme before sundown.”

“You want to go in there?” Felicity asked. “How do we know it’s not crawling with zombies?”

“We don’t. It’s just that out here in plain sight we’re sitting ducks for whoever those crazy maniacs are that attacked us.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Felicity asked, touching my face. “I’m not sure you’re supposed to move after an accident like that. You might have a concussion.”

“I think it’s okay as long as I don’t go to sleep right away.”

She leaned in and kissed me.

“Guys,” Benji said. “I think I see someone coming.”

I looked past Felicity to see a cluster of men in the distance walking on the highway. These weren’t zombies. They were hunters, coming to get us and have their revenge for their fallen comrade, no doubt.

“Let’s move.” I drew my sword.

Benji practically sprinted past me and Felicity followed him.

There was tenderness in my right ankle as well. I didn’t notice it until I began the walk up the mostly empty parking lot toward the front entrance.

Please let the doors be open, I thought. If they were operated by electricity, or locked up and we had to go the long way round, we were goners for sure.

Benji reached the front first and waited for me. A pane of glass had been removed cleanly from the store window, letting us freely step in. I poked my head inside, half expecting to get it chomped by a hungry zombie, but the store was empty of people as far as I could see.

“Stick together.” I turned to Benji. “Whatever happens, I don’t want you running off unless I say so. Got it?”

“I got it, boss man.”

We climbed in, sliding past a rack of dresses as I glanced back toward the abandoned Lexus. The cluster of hunters was getting closer. They were definitely coming for us.

Chapter Twenty Three

We made our way through the department store, walking up a frozen escalator and out into the main part of the mall, without spotting a single zombie. As far as I could tell the place hadn’t been infested with the dead. There were none of the telltale signs--no blood, no human remains strewn about, no smell of rotting death and decay. It seemed totally impossible, but the mall was clean. The stores were all open, but shrouded in darkness.

Above us a clear panel skylight allowed rays of the sun to illuminate our path. Birds flapped around over our heads, going back and forth between stores on the second level. My stomach growled as we marched past the food court toward an exit on the other side of the mall, passing a Wetzel’s Pretzel.

That’s just what I needed to see, I thought. I’m freaking starving. I’d have killed a hundred zombies for a pretzel right then and there and stacked the bodies into neat piles for our not so friendly new friends.

“Can’t we stop and check to see if there is anything edible?” Benji was as hungry as I was. Maybe more since he’d just come down from drinking the blood of the Lamb.

“There’s no electricity,” I said. “Which means the food’s all spoiled anyway. Besides, if we did find anything we’d have to prepare it. We’ve got hunters on our trail. We don’t have time to stop and cook.”

“The smell would lead them right to us,” Felicity added in a soft voice.

“She’s right,” I said. “Our best hope is to head to the coast like I said and hope we lose them along the way. For now we’ve got to at least stay ahead of them.”

“We can’t go forever without eating,” Benji pouted.

What’s wrong with this kid, I thought? We’re being hunted down like wild animals and he is crying about missing his juice box at snack time?

Benji was usually pretty easy going. I chalked it up to the trauma of the accident and being grabbed by that big zombie. That would be enough to freak anyone out. Still, I hoped he would get it together and not slow us down. Everyone needed to stay focused if we were going to make it out alive and together.

“We’ll find food along the way,” I said.

“What if we don’t?”

“We will. Worst case scenario, we eat at the base. Now stop arguing and hurry up.”

Benji scowled at me. I had become the mean parent. I guess someone had to play the role but that didn’t mean I had to be happy about it.

“Come on,” I said. “I don’t want to argue about this all day.”

I heard a high pitch whistle hum through the air to my left side.

“Xander?” Felicity’s voice sounded off, like she was fighting back tears. I turned in surprise to see an arrow sticking out of her right arm.

“What the hell?”

I walked over and looked at it. It had pierced all the way through the skin under the bone and out the other side. Bright red drops of blood dripped from the barbed tip. I heard another whistle zing right past me before I could comprehend what had happened to her. The second arrow skidded off the shiny stone floor next to me, clattering across the tiles. I looked off in the direction the weapon had come from to see one of the hunters stringing up a third arrow. He smiled at us with black teeth.

“What do we do?” Felicity looked at me with big pleading eyes.

“Run,” I yelled, drawing my sword and holding it out in front of me. Benji and Felicity turned and bolted for the sliding doors at the end of the mall.

The third arrow whirred directly toward my head. I brought my blade up as I ducked and knocked it into a planter between the Orange Julius and Hot Dog on a Stick.

The bowman crouched down to reload just as his buddies came tearing in from the darkness of the department store with their guns drawn.

Arrows are one thing, I thought, but there is no way I’m gonna be able to dodge a bullet.

I turned and ran toward the exit as fast as I could. The sound of gun shots rang out like loud thunder. I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. My lungs burned as I pumped my legs up and down as fast as they would take me until I reached the others.

Benji and Felicity were trying desperately to pry open the heavy glass doors, but with no luck. I joined in on Benji’s side, managing to get them open about an inch. Felicity let out a shrill cry of pain and let go, clutching her wounded arm.

I looked back toward our enemies. They were advancing with their weapons drawn. We were trapped! They fired again and the bullets hit the glass to the left of us. Felicity quivered in fear and slumped down to the floor.

“Are you hit?” I asked, but she didn’t answer. “I said, are you hit?” She shook her head no, unable to speak. She was quivering from head to toe.

She’s probably going into shock, I thought, from the wound the arrow made. Hell, it’s still sticking out of her!

They were less than a hundred feet away now. At this range, their aim was sure to improve.

“We’re going to die in here,” Benji cried. “Do something!”

I turned back to the doors and began to pull with everything I had in me. Benji joined me and the door began to slowly roll back. I could feel all the muscles in my arms and chest burning.

Don’t stop, I told myself. They are depending on you. All of our lives count on it. Pull harder!

I gave out a cry and yanked the doors open a bit more. My arms felt like stretched rubber left out in the hot sun. The muscles were giving out and I was losing my grip.

Another shot rang out and hit the glass mere inches from my head. I am not going to die like this. I can’t! Not after everything we have been through. Not without saying goodbye to Moto.

I stepped between the doors, propping my legs against one side with my back against the other. The doors came open, but the pain in my back and legs was almost unbearable.

“Go,” I yelled in a hoarse voice. “Go NOW!”

Felicity crawled through and Benji followed her.

I turned to see them standing on the sidewalk staring at me.

“Come on,” Benji yelled, trying to pull me through with both hands.

I gave the doors one last push and fell through. A chorus of gunfire erupted from inside the mall as the hunters screamed and wailed at our escape. Several of the shots made it out through the small crack before the doors closed and fully shielded us.

Miraculously, we weren’t hit. My whole body ached and I panted like a wounded animal as I stood back up on trembling, unsteady legs. The hunters pounded on the glass but didn’t try to pull the doors open.

“That’s odd,” I said. “Why aren’t they following us?”

Benji frantically tugged at my arm. I turned around to see the reason why we’d been left alone. A small crowd of about a hundred zombies had begun to wander toward us from across the parking lot. The familiar sound of their unearthly moans and horrible stench reached me at the same time. I fought back my desire to vomit as a breeze sent a wave of decomposing stench over us.

“This is bad,” Felicity said. “We’re trapped. What do we do?”

“Get behind me,” I said, holding up my blade. “We’re going to cut a path to freedom.”

“That’s insane,” Benji cried.

“We’ll never make it,” Felicity added.

“We’ve got no other choice,” I replied, letting out a war cry and charging at the ones closest to us. With a flash of my blade I took off a fat zombie’s head, kicking his rotting body over. It felt like stepping in putty, but I didn’t slow down. Without missing a beat, I brought the sword back across my body to the right with all the force I could manage and took off another zombie’s head with a clean sweep. The rest of the zombie horde didn’t seem to notice my bloodthirsty rampage. They just stepped over their fallen friends and kept coming at us like the mindless killing machines they were.

Swinging in a wild circle, I sliced my way through another, then punched a thin zombie out of my way before freeing my blade from the last victims chest. Dark coagulated blood oozed from the tip of my sword like an oily film of dead pulp. I shook it off and drove the weapon back through the neck of a screeching woman who lunged for me, nearly knocking me over. There were more of them than I had realized. They were reaching me too fast and I was taking too long to kill them. Benji and Felicity were right. This wasn’t going to work. There was no way I was going to be able to fight them all off.

“Xander look out,” Felicity cried as a thickly built male zombie snapped at me teeth first like a rabid dog.

I leaned back just out of his bite radius and felt the horrible chill of his cold breath on my face. He looked like he had been a body builder before being turned, and I was dismayed to discover that he still had the strength of one as he gripped me by the throat and began to squeeze the life out of me, raising me completely off the ground with my feet kicking at the air. I beat my left fist helplessly into his chest to no avail as stars popped in my field of vision.

Felicity screamed at the top of her lungs. I prayed the rest of the horde hadn’t already moved past me and gotten to them. My right arm flailed wildly with my sword still in hand, but I wasn’t able to make a dent in the monster even by hacking chunks of flesh from his back. He pulled me forward toward his open mouth, preparing to tear off the front of my face.

In a last ditch effort I jerked my right arm upward, lodging the sword into his head. I felt his grip loosen but he didn’t relent. He was still making every effort to eat me alive. With all the strength I had left in my already sore muscles, I forced the end of the sword handle down until the blade slowly sliced up and through his brain, removing half of his head and exposing rotten gray matter and more oily black blood in the process. He let me go and fell over with an unsatisfying grunt. I fell to one knee, gingerly touching my neck and gulping in air as fast as I could. I was dizzy but I forced myself back to my feet to continue to fight.

“Come on!” I screamed. “Is that all you’ve got?” Adrenaline pumped through me as I stood back up. I was ready to die fighting but I was going to take down every last one of these creatures before I did.

“Xander, look,” Felicity said as she pointed to the middle of the horde.

A flash of light drew my vision off to the right and I turned to see the strangest thing I’d ever witnessed in my whole life. The zombies turned back on a man who was walking among them. He calmly swung two objects that seemed to be made entirely out of reflected light in a blur around his body. The horde seemed so captivated by him, they had forgotten all about us.

His face was painted like an Indian warrior and he had several crows feathers tucked into his hair. His expression was a mask of calm resolve. He wore a thin layer of chainmail over his upper torso and head and protective metal armor from the waist down to his metallic boots. Light reflected off his mirror polished armor as well as whatever he was using for weapons, giving him the impression that he was glowing almost from head to toe.

I thought of the pictures Moto had once shown me of Shaolin warrior monks.

How is he doing that? I wondered to myself. It’s like he’s somehow able to communicate with them.

The zombies would turn to attack him then stumble back, looking confused and disoriented. Whoever he was, he calmly moved through them like he was taking a stroll through the park on a lazy Sunday afternoon. He might as well have been walking on water as far as I was concerned. He was headed right for us but I didn’t feel any fear. Instead, an indescribable calm began to settle over me at the sight of him, like for the first time in forever everything was going to be all right.

“On your right,” Benji called out.

I turned to look at him, confused by everything that was happening as I felt a sharp pain shoot through my right side. Something cold clamped down onto my skin. Glancing down I saw a small zombie boy in a blue and yellow striped shirt had latched his dirty mouth onto my stomach. With a sharp strike from my elbow I dislodged him, then swung around and took his head clean off. I watched the expression go blank on his kid zombie face as his lifeless head rolled to a stop at the curb and his small corpse fell over flat.

My hand shook as I touched the wound and saw bright red blood forming. I’d been bitten! I heard Felicity yelling something at me but I couldn’t make out what it was. There was a loud ringing in my ears and I could feel my heart beating hard in my chest. I started to feel woozy. My legs wobbled beneath me as they gave way. The last thing I remembered was the ground rushing up to meet me and then seeing a big burst of light.

***

When I opened my eyes again, I was lying on my back looking up at the inside of a canvass tent with a hole that went straight up into the sky. The brown skinned man with the bird feathers in his hair and black paint on his face worked over a fire nearby, boiling water.

After rolling my head to the side, I found my sword lying next to his two huge shiny knives. My reflection was clearly visible in them. I could tell I was in deep trouble with a single glance. My skin was already turning a yellowish green to match the bile rising up from my stomach, and my forehead was beaded with feverish sweat as my body tried to fight off the killer infection. I touched my side where I had been bitten and winced with pain.

“Awake to the dream of reality,” the man said with a smile.

“Who are you?”

“I’m called many things by many different people. It all depends on how they see me or what they need from me.”

“I don’t need anything from you.” I tried to sit up but fell over in agony.

“We all need something from each other. Life is by its very nature interdependent. You can call me Simon if you like. You’ve more than earned the right.

“Where am I?”

“Paradise City.”

“I thought we were in Oxnard.”

“That’s what it used to be called,” he explained. “Before things fell apart. There isn’t much that remains as it once used to be.” He had a cryptic way of talking, as if everything he said was a riddle or Zen koan waiting to be unraveled. My head throbbed and I tried not to think about it.

“Who were those people hunting us?” I was already starting to feel feverish.

“Cannibals. They would have eaten you all if they could have caught you. Turned your organs into soup and your flesh into strips of jerky.”

“Just like zombies,” I said, attempting an ironic smile.

“Worse. Zombies don’t have free will, while the cannibals know exactly what they are doing and just don’t care. There aren’t many people left out here. Almost everybody is a zombie. Cannibals track passing traffic on the freeway to trap fresh victims. I saw your car hit that pole in the parking lot from my little hill up here and knew you were in big trouble, so I headed down. I figured if you had any sense at all you’d cut through the mall and head west.”

Despite my state I took his words as the compliment they were intended to be. It felt good to know I’d been right, even if it had cost me my life. None of that mattered as long as the others were safe.

Panic shot through me as I realized I didn’t know what had become of them. What if the zombies had eaten them? I couldn’t go to my grave without knowing, and judging from the way I felt I knew I didn’t have long until I changed.

“Where are my friends?” I asked, confused. I tried to sit up but didn’t have the strength. It felt like a boulder had been dropped on my chest.

“They are outside, waiting,” he said. “You were very brave. You saved their lives.”

“I was very stupid. I’m paying the price for it now.” The realization that I was going to become one of those flesh eating monsters wasn’t fully kicking in. It was just more than I could handle at the moment.

“I don’t think so,” he countered. “Your brother will be very proud of you.”

“How do you know my brother?” I lifted my head, straining to look at him.

“Moto is a friend. That’s more than I can say for the rest of his tribe. He will be pleased to learn his little brother has become a fierce warrior. He’s been looking for you since news reached him about Vandenberg. He left me a walkie to contact him if you came this way. He said you would make it. That you were strong and would find your way to the base. Turns out he was right.”

“It’s too late,” I said. “I’ve been bitten.”

“Don’t worry,” Simon said. “He will be here soon. He was very excited to hear you were still alive.”

“I’m dying.” I fought to stay awake. “By the time he gets here he’ll more than likely have to chop off my head.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. Things are not always as they appear in this world. Nor are they otherwise.”

“I saw you,” I said, ignoring his brain twister. “You were walking right through a crowd of zombies but they moved out of your way. It was a miracle, like parting water with your bare hands. How did you do that?”

“It’s a long story,” he said with a pleasant smile that made me feel calm and at ease. “The short answer is by controlling my breathing. I’ve spent years learning how to lower my heart rate through meditation. It helps me to move calmly among them without drawing attention to myself. Usually I don’t have to raise my weapons at all. Today required I move with greater speed than normal, hence the light display. Forgive me if it seemed vain. It was not without purpose, I assure you.”

“I thought zombies were attracted to movement,” I said.

“If that is true, then why don’t they attack each other?”

“I don’t know. I always assumed they came after us because we smelled alive, like food.”

“They are driven by hunger. Like all predators, they use their senses to search out victims. Most people panic when they see them, causing their heart rates to skyrocket and their skin to sweat. Just like a dog can smell fear, so too can the undead sense our repulsion of them. Add to that the fact that most people scream or wave their arms and run around like chickens with their heads cut off, and it’s no wonder they zero in on us as if they had heat seeking technology.”

“So you’re saying if I stood perfectly still in the middle of a zombie horde I wouldn’t have been bitten?”

I thought about Joel and Tom’s story of hiding under the dead soldiers as the zombies passed by them.

“I can’t say that for sure,” he admitted. “What I can tell you is that I have been walking with them in a trance-like state on many occasions and have not been attacked.”

“How do you remain calm when you know they can turn on you at any moment and rip you to shreds? How is that possible?”

“You have to learn to change the way you see the world. When you view them with compassion, your fear is transformed into sympathy. These were people once, just like you and me. They had hopes and dreams, families, loved ones. Just like you and me they wanted more happiness and less suffering in their lives. They had plans for the future. Now they are eternally damned to wander the earth with a terrible hunger that cannot be fulfilled, reviled as monsters. It’s heartbreaking in every way imaginable.”

“I’m glad you are so sympathetic,” I said. “Considering I will shortly be one of them. But I still think you should cut my head off the minute I change. I don’t want to be responsible for killing anyone.”

“You’re going to be just fine.” He opened his hand and revealed two blue pills. “Your friend Felicity told me to give you these. She said she took them from your pocket in Ojai. She told me to tell you not to be mad at her.”

So she stole the pills back from me! I wasn’t mad at her. A pang of sadness shot through me knowing that I would never get to kiss her again, that the moment we shared up on the hill was the best we would ever have together.

I raised my head and he placed them in my mouth. He took a bottle of water from the ground and placed it to my lips. It felt cool and refreshing. I gulped down as much as I could.

“How is she?” I asked. “How is her arm?”

“I managed to take the arrow out and clean the wound,” he told me. “She’s going to be just fine. The shaft went almost clean through. She is very lucky it only hit her arm.”

The pain in my body was growing. It spread across my entire chest, radiating out from the wound in my side and even ran down my legs. I panted steadily to relieve some of the agony, trying to breathe it away.

“I’m going to need you to listen to me,” Simon said. “An antidote is on its way, but for now we’re going to want to slow down the spread of the virus. The pills will help calm you but I want you to work on your breathing with me. Got it?”

“Yes,” I managed. The pain was growing exponentially now. I could feel it in my toes and finger tips.

“Remember what I told you about controlling my heart rate with meditation?”

I nodded in reply, too sick to answer. My throat felt dry like hot sand at the beach.

“We’re going to slow yours down now too. I want you to close your eyes but concentrate on the sound of my voice.”

I closed my eyes without argument.

“That’s good. Now I want you to focus on your breath as it moves in and out of your body. Don’t try to control it. Just become aware of it. When thoughts arise, resist the temptation to follow them. Instead, gently push them aside and return your concentration to the breath.”

I did as he said and immediately began to relax. The pain was still there, but I wasn’t fighting against it now so its effect on me didn’t seem as overwhelming.

“Think of your mind as a vast blue sky without end and your thoughts like white, fluffy clouds. They don’t come from anywhere and they don’t go anywhere. When the causes and conditions are right, clouds appear. Don’t follow the clouds but return to the calm, peaceful blue of your mind.”

He kept talking in a soothing voice that lured me deeper into a state of total relaxation, but I stopped focusing on the meaning of what he was saying. A calm rose in me, overriding the pain that was consuming my entire body. I surrendered to it completely and let it take me where it wanted me to go. I felt my spirit mix with the blue of my mind, like water poured into water as everything I knew faded away into emptiness.

Chapter Twenty Four

For a while I wandered, dead and disembodied, through a collage of memories from my childhood. I saw Mrs. Sanders, my kind third grade teacher, watering flowers in her garden. She stopped to wave as I went by. She looked the same as she did when I was a kid. The fact that she had been dead over a decade gave me further conviction that I had passed away.

So this is heaven, I thought. Strange. I expected something else, like clouds or angels playing harps or Morgan Freeman in a white suit telling me he was proud of me. Instead I was drifting past a river of soothing memories filled with people I had once known and loved who had passed before me. More than anything I wanted to stop and talk to them, to find out what they knew, not just about this afterlife but about what had happened in the place that I had come from. What I wanted didn’t really seem to matter.

The river slowly pulled me onward, past my best childhood friend Doug’s mom Cindy, who had died of leukemia, and Sally, the girl I asked to prom who later died in a car accident while texting, and Jim, my brother’s friend who had been killed in action in Afghanistan. I saw the Parker twins off in the distance, chasing after fallen soldiers I’d known at the base. Joel ignored me but Tom turned from over a hundred feet away and smiled. He waved then darted off.

What about your mother? I thought to myself. Where is she?

No sooner did I think it than her smiling face appeared.

“Oh son,” she said, her voice like ringing crystal wind chimes. “I am so proud of you. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Mom,” I managed before she melted away. “I miss you so much.”

The whole world became a blur of shifting blue shapes: hexagons and trapezoids and rectangles formed and crashed into one another in a dizzying array of fractal patterns, like a kaleidoscope. My mind tried desperately to attach itself to these forms, but it disconnected as the colors came together and crashed apart like waves in a turbulent storm. I could hear voices gathered around me but I couldn’t make out the words they were saying. Every now and then a sentence would get through.

“You’re going to feel a pinch and then the burning will stop,” someone said as a sharp pain shot through me followed by hard pressure. Almost immediately I felt a soothing sensation like being bathed in cold ice water. I began to shiver all over.

“Try to relax,” Simon said, his words transforming into a living jelly that wriggled across my skin and made me laugh. Warmth returned to my bodiless form like a ray of sunlight penetrating my heart. I felt like I was falling through a vast and endless blue sky, but I wasn’t afraid. Nothing mattered anymore.

Then the ground came rushing up toward me and I landed in a soft foam of sand. A ripple ran off from where I touched down, in every direction as far as the eye could see. I was in a desert and my body was normal again.

“Where am I?” The words came out of my skin like an exhaled breath.

“Nowhere,” the sky answered back.

“Everywhere,” the echo replied.

Round red bubbles began to form at my feet from out of the sand. I leaned over and picked one up. It looked like a shiny red pool table ball. I put it in my mouth and felt its smoothness on my tongue. It tasted like chlorine and bubble gum and Tuesday afternoons. I didn’t know how that was even possible.

“The world is nothing more than a child’s dream,” a voice said. It seemed to come from all around me at once, from the sky and the cactus and the bubbles popping at my feet.

“How do I get home?” I asked.

“Everywhere is possible if you desire it enough,” the voice sang, revealing a shimmering trail in the sand that seemed to lead off to the horizon. I put down the red bubble ball and began to follow the trail, feeling light and calm. “Every when is possible too.”

I walked for what seemed like days, coming across an old chair at one point, a singing grandfather clock, and a book with no words that spoke in riddles when you cracked it open. Each time I reached the ridge of a sand dune, I was back where I had started.

Days passed. When I was hungry, delicious food appeared. When I was thirsty, the sky parted and poured sweet juice into my open mouth. I never saw another soul. I just kept walking and talking to myself and the voice in the sky.

Finally, after what felt like months, the desert began to fade away behind me, sand whooshing past in fluffy white blurs, leaving clean white walls. I sat up and stared at my brother Moto dressed in his military gear. He was as real and solid as anything I had ever seen, smiling down at me with kind brown eyes.

“Welcome back, solider,” he said.

Chapter Twenty Five

“This is a dream,” I said. “It has to be. I’m dead.”

“No,” he said, nodding his head side-to-side but still smiling. “You’re not. Sorry to be the one to break the bad news to you. You’re going to be just fine.”

“I was bitten by a zombie.” I shook my head in disbelief. “You don’t come back from that. Do you?”

I reached down and pulled up my shirt, finding I had gauze taped to my ribs. I ripped it back, not expecting to be as painful as it was. It made me wince and close my eyes as I let out a gasp. When the pain subsided, I took a good look at the wound. A crescent shape bite mark the size of a small child’s mouth perforated the flesh of my abdomen just below my rib cage, but it had scabbed all the way over. To the casual observer it might have looked like I got tangled up in something, or was peppered with broken shards of glass in a fight.

“You see?” Moto pointed to the wound. “It’s almost healed already.”

Despite my mind arguing that it wasn’t possible, the evidence showed he was right. The injury was now nothing more than a tiny island chain of hardened blood ringed by puffy, pink flesh. It appeared to be no more life threatening than a cat scratch.

“In no time at all you’ll be as good as new,” Moto assured me. “Which is first-rate! I’ve got a lot to tell you. Gotta get you caught up to speed.”

“How is this possible?” I was still having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that I wasn’t one of the living dead.

“Apache radioed to us,” my brother told me. “We got there as fast as we could.”

“He said you’d been looking for me?”

“I sent choppers up to Vandenberg after I found out. There were no survivors. None of the deceased matched your description. I knew you’d make it out. I believed it in the pit of my stomach. It’s been all that’s kept me going since. The thought of seeing you again. You have no idea how happy I was to hear from Apache.”

I thought about the black helicopters that passed over us when we were on the road to New Lompoc. How different would things have been if Benji and I had stayed near the base?

“He told me that you had been asleep for about five minutes,” Moto continued. “We administered the antidote before moving you so we wouldn’t lose any time.”

“Did you just say antidote?” My head was spinning. “Does that mean that the outbreak was caused by a virus?”

“Yes. We know that now for sure. We even know who created it. It was one of our guys, not some terrorist attack like we originally suspected. What we don’t know is how it got out. We are still working on that.”

So much for Felicity’s fast food theory, I thought. Not that I would be having Arby’s any time in the near future, the way things were going.

“So there is a cure for it?”

“Yes and no,” he said, looking around the room nervously. He glanced up and over my head, holding his gaze on something for several seconds before returning them to me. “It’s complicated.”

I turned and saw he was looking at a camera with a red flashing light on top. I had been so out of it, I hadn’t seen that there were several cameras recording our conversation.

“If there is a cure then why are there still zombies?” I wasn’t trying to be difficult or ungrateful. I really wanted to understand. “Why can’t we just give a dose to everyone that’s been infected and end this whole nightmare?”

Moto sighed and rubbed his temples. “First of all, there wouldn’t be enough of the antidote to save everyone. It’s not easy to make. Many of the ingredients were hard to come by before Z-Day. Now they are virtually impossible to get.”

“Like what?”

“Spider venom for one,” Moto said. “One of the side effects of a bite from a brown recluse is that the tissue around the wound dies. Doctors have to cut the dead skin and tissue away from the wound, and a lot of times people end up needing plastic surgery to cover the nasty looking scar. The way in which the healthy cells go necrotic is similar to the way the zombie virus functions, in part. There are a lot of parallels. So we figured out how to isolate the chemical that does that and reverse engineer it as part of the antidote. The problem is that it requires plenty of actual spider venom—or an equally rare synthetic compound that takes weeks to yield small batches of under absolutely perfect lab conditions.”

“Let me get this straight,” I said, “you’re saying that I’m gonna be like Spiderman now?”

Benji is going to be so jealous, I thought.

“Will I have super human strength and be able to swing through the air and shoot webs to slow bad guys down?”

“Not that I’ve ever seen,” he said. “But you’ve always had a supernatural ability to annoy people. Looks like you’ve retained it. That should come in handy around the base. Really help you win new friends over.”

Moto grinned from ear to ear as he teased me. Things were getting back to normal in some small way. It felt good to have my brother back, even if he was reminding me of what a bossy know-it-all he usually was.

“And you’ve kept your killer sense of humor,” I fired back.

“That’s just one part of the recipe,” Moto finished his explanation. “There are a ton of very complicated steps that go into creating the cocktail. The vast majority of the ingredients are as dangerous to use as they are to locate or whip up.”

“I lost all track of time and space,” I said. “It’s weird, because I am sitting here talking to you but I don’t even feel like the same person that I was before. The truth is that if the walls melted right now and you sprouted butterfly wings and began singing opera, I wouldn’t be all that surprised.”

I half expected him to argue that I had been through a traumatic experience, but instead the smile slid off his face and his demeanor grew darkly serious.

“One of the other ingredients is Ibogaine,” he said. “It’s a powerful natural hallucinogenic derived from a root. It’s banned in the United States, or it used to be, but you can easily get it in Mexico, if you don’t get butchered by surviving cartel members or devoured by hordes of zombies with over a million corpses in them.”

“So it makes you trip out?” That would account for the wild visions and out of body experiences I had undergone.

“Shamans used to take it,” Moto said. “It’s about a hundred times more powerful than LSD or mushrooms. They were giving it to junkies the last I heard because the trip was so heavy it scared them off ever using drugs again, that’s if they lived through it. The dose you received was cleaner and more balanced than just eating the plant version, but it was also much stronger.”

“How long does it last?”

“Usually not more than a couple of days. We were starting to get worried about you.”

“How long have I been out?”

“Seven days.”

Seven days? Is he kidding? How could I be high and locked in a room for a whole week and not know about it?

“I’d like to argue with you but I kind of lost track of time where I was,” I said. “Am I still on it now?”

I turned my hand over in front of my face several times and waved it in the air. Moto laughed at me.

“No,” he said. “You’d know. You were pretty incoherent when you were juiced up.”

I looked around the room again at all the cameras. They’d been monitoring me like a lab rat. I knew it was a small price to pay for not being a mindless zombie, but it still made me uncomfortable. I didn’t want to sound ungrateful so I kept my thoughts to myself.

“Will I feel any side effects?”

“It’s possible,” he said. “A few people reported feeling mild aftershocks after being given the antidote—like flash backs, but nothing serious. Walls breathing, people melting, losing track of time, that kind of thing.”

“Oh,” I said. “So nothing too scary like people around me transforming into flesh eating demons that want to kill me . . . or delusions of grandeur.”

“No more than normal for you,” he said, raising his finger to his temple and making a cuckoo bird gesture. “You’ve always been a little Loony Tunes, if you know what I mean.”

“How did I get here?” I asked, ignoring his taunt.

“You were strapped down and transported in an armored Humvee. You were too close to consider air lifting. We only have one chopper and our fuel supplies are limited. Apache caught us up to speed on your condition and your friends filled in the blanks.”

“Apache?” I shook my head more. “He told his name was Simon.”

“Really?” Moto couldn’t hide his amusement. “We never could get him to tell us his name. Not even to me in private. We took to calling him The Apache because he lived in a teepee and talked like a crazy Indian. It’s like the guy speaks in riddles or something.”

I smiled as I remembered thinking the exact same thing. I’d almost forgotten along the way what it was like to have real family that I grew up with. It made the end of the world that much easier, knowing he was with me.

“It’s amazing what people will open up and tell you when you are about to die,” I said sarcastically.

“I know what you mean,” he said. “Believe it or not I’ve been where you are right now.”

“What?”

My mind reeled. My brother had been bitten by a zombie? He’d had to go through all of this alone? It was more than my brain could comprehend.

“I’ll tell you all about it later,” he said, “or at least as much as I am allowed to tell you. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re not alone.”

“Who is watching us?”

“I asked the general for permission to debrief you,” he said. “He’s been kind enough to give us some leeway considering the unusual circumstances around your discovery. He said only a Macnamara would try to kill a horde of zombies with a toothpick carnival sword to defend his two pals, more or less. I’m paraphrasing. Basically, I think you impressed him.”

“So what aren’t you telling me?”

I knew my brother’s ‘poker tells’ from growing up with him. He was definitely keeping something from me, and it was big.

“Let’s just start with what I can tell you,” he said. “You are not allowed to tell anyone about being bitten by a zombie or about receiving an antidote. That’s the big one. It’s not as hard as it sounds though. No one in the outside world would believe you and no one here has the clearance to ask about it.”

“What about the civilians on base?”

“Good question.” He patted me on the shoulder. “It brings me to my next debriefing point. There are no civilians at Port Hueneme. If civilians were allowed, I would have brought you here from the start. The only non-military personal here are doctors and the wives of enlisted men. This is an advanced military base, the last one on the west coast. If you decide to remain here, you will need to enlist. Otherwise, you will be shipped to a controlled civilian population area, most likely the clean zone out near Las Vegas.”

“I’m not old enough to enlist. I’m only sixteen.”

“Age is no longer a consideration for those who wish to serve their country,” he explained, sounding like a recruiting commercial. “America needs all the able-bodied trained soldiers it can get to fight this war.”

“I don’t want to be separated from you again. Will I get to stay here?”

“The general has assured me that if you are so inclined, I will be allowed to personally oversee your training. You’re already temporarily assigned to my unit, just in case.”

“I’m in,” I said without hesitation.

Moto smiled, but there was sadness in his eyes. “Glad to hear it, soldier. I assured them that you would react this way. It’s gonna make things a whole lot easier for a lot of jumpy people. Now the first thing we got to do is get you changed out of those hospital scrubs and into a proper uniform. After that, we’re gonna shave off those curly locks of yours.” He ran his fingers through my hair and messed it up. “If you need a moment to say goodbye to your Justin Beiber fever hairdo, I’ll understand.”

“What did you guys do with Benji?”

“You’ll be happy to know that your little friend gladly enlisted the minute we got him back to camp and gave him a hot meal and a shower. He’s been assigned a non-combat job working in the canteen. He’s eager to see you, so he’ll be glad to know you’re up and moving around.”

“He was there,” I said. “He saw me get bit. What am I supposed to tell him?”

“It’s not a problem,” Moto said. “Benji is a soldier now. He’s been debriefed, just like you. If the subject comes up, all you have to say is that the incident is classified and you’re not allowed to talk about it.”

“Oh,” I said lamely. It was going to take a bit to get used to this new way of life as a soldier.

“Aren’t you forgetting about somebody?” Moto wore that knowing grin that drove me crazy when we were kids. It was the same look he gave me when Darla, the girl who lived across the way from us back home, brought me a Valentine’s card one year.

“Felicity Jane,” I said. It all seemed like a dream that I had been involved with a celebrity I’d met along the way. Then again, flesh eating zombies had taken over the world, so everything seemed kinda like a dream.

“Don’t be shy,” Moto said. “She’s a great girl.”

“Is she still here?”

“She is. They tried to send her away to a clean zone when she refused to enlist, but she said she wasn’t leaving until she saw you. Apparently you made quite an impression on her.”

“What am I supposed to tell her?”

“Tell her the truth. Tell her you are not allowed to talk about it and all that matters is that you are here now, alive and well. She’ll understand.”

“Are they going to make her leave?”

“Under normal circumstances they would for sure,” he said. “As I said, this is an active military base. Strictly speaking there are no civilians here, aside from doctors and research assistants. I think we both know she’s no ordinary girl.”

“So you’re saying that they are looking the other way and letting her stay because she was a celebrity?”

“I’m not saying that,” he said, gesturing to the cameras again to remind me we were being watched.

“Then what are you saying?”

I could feel myself bristling at the suggestion that they were giving her special treatment because of who she was. I didn’t like the thought of people treating her like a trained monkey that was there to amuse them. She was a real person, and she deserved to be treated with dignity and respect. I could feel the blood pounding in my ears as my desire to protect her at all costs began to override my logic and reason. I didn’t even know what I was getting upset about.

“I’m saying that the higher-ups have decided for the time being that she is good for the troops’ morale,” he said. “You should be grateful. If she was just some girl you’d met on the road she’d be in the desert right now, probably working on a farm.”

“When can I see her?”

“Just as soon as we’ve put you through the enlistment process and sworn you in. In addition to your enrollment application, there is some extra paperwork they are going to want you to sign as well, mostly going over what we’ve talked about here and how you can’t repeat any of it without their permission.”

“What are we waiting for?” I began looking for the exit to the padded white room. I wanted to see Felicity as fast as I could. Moto stopped me and gave me a bear hug that lifted me clear off my feet. I could feel a pinch in my side where the wound was, but I didn’t complain.

“Glad to have you back, little brother.”

“Glad to be back in one piece.”

He gave me another big hug that nearly crushed the wind out of me, but I didn’t fight him. For the first time in a very long time, I felt like everything was finally going to be okay again.

Chapter Twenty Six

“So they’ve had a cure all this time and they don’t want anyone else to know about it?”

Felicity couldn’t stop rubbing my freshly shaved head. It felt good at first, but after about ten minutes it was starting to get on my nerves. She hadn’t stopped touching me since she caught sight of me crossing the base with Moto, on the way to get a batch of immunization shots. She’d been talking to a group of spellbound soldiers and stopped mid-sentence, jumping up and racing to throw herself into my arms. I had to practically pry her off the front of me, and when I did she showered me with kisses. Not that I minded, to be honest. I just didn’t expect her affection to last this long. I’d never saved a girl’s life before by trying to sacrifice myself. I didn’t know how long the effect lasted.

“Keep your voice down,” I whispered, looking around to make sure we weren’t being watched more than usual. “They warned me that I’m not allowed to tell anyone, even you.”

“But I was there,” she protested. “How did they expect to hide that from me?”

“I’m just letting you know what they said. They made me sign a stack of paperwork saying I wouldn’t talk about it. You’d have thought that there were camera units waiting outside to interview me or something. It was weird. Then the general congratulated me personally and gave me a medal of valor.”

I absentmindedly ran my fingers over the small medal pinned to the chest of my clean new uniform.

“What are they going to do? Arrest you?” She turned and wrapped her arms around me, putting her head on my shoulder.

“They could,” I said, nodding at some passing marines who couldn’t take their eyes off Felicity. “Technically speaking, they own me now. They can do whatever they want to me if I break the rules.”

“Moto would never allow it.” She shook her head.

We were sitting out near the mechanical generators, staring at the electric fence in the distance. Felicity had offered to give me a tour of the base after I got my shots and Moto had thought it was a good idea. He’d dashed off in a hurry, then caught up with us a few minutes later and gave me back my katana.

“Now that you are a soldier you can have this back,” he said. “We’ll get you a gun later as well but for now just make sure you don’t lose this again.”

The blade was shiny and clean. I could tell by its pristine condition that he’d spent time sharpening and oiling it while I was locked down in the loony bin. I turned the blade over in my hands.

After that, we’d gone to see Benji in the canteen. He’d practically jumped over the counter to greet us, giving me a big hug then standing back and saluting me when his superior officer chastised him.

“Look what I found,” he said in an excited, breathless voice as he held up a new comic book. “It’s the Justice League.”

“Glad to see nothing’s changed,” I teased him.

He didn’t try to ask me about the incident with Simon the Apache at the mall, and I was glad not to have to lie to him. Felicity on the other hand kept bringing it up until I cracked. One look in her sea foam eyes and I knew there was nothing I could keep from her. For the first time in my life I was in love.

“Moto doesn’t have as much power as you think,” I said.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that he’s not going to be able to keep them from shipping you off to Vegas when the general gets tired of you distracting his men with all your charms.”

“I’m not distracting them,” she protested.

“Really?” I pointed off in the distance where a bunch of soldiers that had been sitting and watching us quickly turned and pretended to be working again. “Are you sure about that?”

“I can help out around here too, you know,” she pouted. “If that’s how it’s going to be then I will enlist like you did. Is that what you want?”

“No. Honestly I don’t. There is no guarantee that they’d let you stay here at this base even if you did join up. You’d be completely at their mercy. In all likelihood, they’d send you off to the clean zone to supervise civilians and we’d be right back where we started.”

“I don’t want to leave you,” she purred, leaning over and planting a kiss on my cheek that I could feel through my whole body. In the distance I heard one of the men whistle.

“There is another way,” I said sheepishly, the words turning to sand in my mouth.

“What is it?”

“We could get married,” I offered, unable to look at her. “If you were my wife then they would have to let you stay with me here. They wouldn’t be able to separate us.”

I turned and faced her. She looked like she was fighting back tears.

Cat’s out of the bag, I thought. No going back now.

“Listen,” I said, “I know we are both young but the world has changed. People used to get married at our age back when life was shorter, younger even. I can’t imagine losing you again. I don’t want to be separated. It’s the only way.”

My heart beat hard in my chest. I hadn’t felt this afraid taking on a zombie horde. It felt like an eternity without words. I wished I had died for real as I waited for her response. For a moment I thought the embarrassment of her impending rejection might just do the trick and finish me off.

“Are you serious?”

I looked her dead in the eyes. I couldn’t read her reaction. Her gaze was intense and unblinking as it met mine.

“Yes,” I said. “I am. I don’t know what it is about you, but you’ve been under my skin from the minute you threatened to kill me with a shotgun. What can I say? I love you, Felicity Jane. Will you marry me?”

I didn’t have to wait long for her reply this time. She threw her arms around my neck again and began crying on me. She squeezed me tight and then pulled back and kissed my neck over and over.

“So is that a yes?”

“Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!”

I felt a wave of relief wash over me. Felicity pulled back and I kissed her hard on the mouth. It was amazing. I couldn’t wait to be able to tell Moto. The base had a working chapel. We’d have the ceremony there with a small group of my brother’s friends, the general perhaps, and Benji, of course. Felicity could get a job on the base and we’d see each other at night after I was done with my training and rounds. Things weren’t so bad after all. Everything was finally going to be okay.

I leaned in and kissed her again, feeling that amazing sensation of time standing still as our lips touched for a thrilling few seconds. Loud air sirens wailed and pulled us from our perfect moment. They echoed off every side of the base. Standing up, we could see what looked like a huge dust cloud in the distance heading straight our way. After a moment it became clear that there were thousands of people out in the distance moving toward the base at a slow, steady pace.

“Is that what I think it is?” There was a note of wonder and awe in her voice as she spoke.

“Yep,” I said matter-of-factly. “It’s a massive zombie horde. The biggest I’ve ever seen.”

“What do we do now?”

“Now,” I said, reaching out and taking her hand in mine so that our fingers laced together, “we fight.” I held my blade in my free hand and watched in awe as the first wave of the dead crashed through the electric fence and began slowly pressing forward in our direction.

-The End-

Zombie Attack: Curse of the Living
by Devan Sagliani

Laughing Crow Media copyright © 2014

All Rights Reserved.

Cover art by Christian Bentulan

This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author and publisher.

Chapter One

The last thing I remember was Felicity gripping my hand tight as a wild horde, the size of several thousand mobs put together, came charging through the electric fence at Port Hueneme – charging straight toward us! The sparse seconds before this, when Felicity had agreed to marry me, had been the happiest moments of my life.  Now we were about to be overrun by the living dead. Overrun and eaten alive.

Happiness is a fleeting thing in this new world, I reminded myself. You've got to enjoy every second of it; you never know how long it will last.

The air raid sirens wailed piercingly over our heads as brave soldiers charged forward; weapons in hand, ready to take on the enemy. The sound of automatic gunfire reached our ears in the form of tiny pops, like the rattle of a snare drum, as the wind pushed it in our direction, bringing with it the rank smell of decomposing flesh. I could hear the high-pitched screams of a soldier, over all the rest of the yelling, as he fell victim to one of the gruesome monsters heading our way. The muscles in my stomach tightened as I recalled the fear and dread that filled my mind immediately after being bitten by a zombie.

That was only a week ago, I thought. It felt more like a lifetime away. I'd been sure I wasn't ever going to be coming back. I certainly didn't think I'd get to see my brother, Moto, again, or Felicity's beautiful face and mesmerizing eyes. I had slipped into a psychedelic nightmare that left me feeling like I was floating out of my body in an endlessly surreal landscape – and I had no way of knowing it was the effect of an antidote they'd given me.

If there is an antidote to a Zombie bite, then there is an end to this terrible world, I thought. There is a way to fix things. All it will take is time, and the efforts of soldiers willing to fight to restore things to the way they used to be.

It was a distant dream and one I might not live to see at that point, given the wave of rotting corpses coming to rip my new fiancé and me to shreds.

A fleet of Jeeps rushed past us at high speed, straight to the center of the conflict. I could make out several high-ranking officers in the back of each vehicle as they sped head first into chaos. They turned at the very last minute, and began barking orders at the soldiers from a distance of over a hundred feet away. I started to make my move forward again, but Felicity squeezed my hand tightly to hold me back.

“What?”

“Just wait a minute,” she pleaded.

I could feel a ball of energy building up inside my chest, like a wild animal waiting to claw its way out. Every fiber of my being wanted to charge into the battle, swinging my sword and taking down as many of the undead as I could. It was only her gentle touch that held me at bay.

“Something is happening,” Felicity said. “Look!”

She raised her free hand and pointed toward the conflict. She was right. The Jeeps were now heading back in our direction. The soldiers were turning and running at us. Felicity gulped. I was frozen in place as they advanced on us.

What is going on? Why are we giving up so easily?

I felt the ripple of the ground first, as the dust and rocks at our feet began to shimmer. A millisecond later the air seemed to punch through me, knocking us both off our feet. Felicity landed on top of my chest. My head bounced hard off the ground, as the back of my skull slammed against the earth. There was an earsplitting explosion that caused the world to lurch, leaving me completely disoriented. The flash of light reached us last, a giant fireball blooming skyward toward the heavens, followed by a wall of sound like low thunder undulating across the military base.

The air grew hot as bits of earth and rotting flesh rained down on us. A resounding ring stung my ears. I gagged on the nauseating mist of death hanging in the air, gasping desperately for a breath of fresh air. Felicity leaned over me, screaming at the top of her lungs, but it sounded like she was whispering. My head throbbed as I moved, a tight pain pulling at my temples. I turned in the direction of the battle, but everything in the distance was fuzzy. The more I tried to bring it into focus, the sharper the pain grew in my head. Felicity turned my face to hers once more. There were two of her for some reason. I couldn't hold the image clearly. She was smiling, but silent tears rolled down her face and onto mine as she kissed me over and over again. I reached up to wipe her tears from my face, but at the same time I felt something wet running down my lips and drooling out of my nose. I held my hand up to see the bright red blood. There was so much of it. Cold panic shot through me. I tried to stand up too quickly and the world bent around me, savagely twisting like a melting painting by Salvador Dali. It took everything in me not to fall back down again. The pain in my head was excruciating and completely overwhelming. Each step felt like a sledgehammer ringing out a loud blow on white-hot sheet metal in my mind. My heart fluttered in my chest like a trapped sparrow as my breath left me. I was falling head first, slipping away into unconsciousness, and I couldn't stop it. The world began to grow dark, and once more I was pulled under into the heavy weight of oblivion as I felt my limbs connect with the ground. I plummeted deeper into the darkness until there was nothing left at all.

Chapter Two

I woke with a start from my sleep. Felicity twitched, but didn't get up. She was used to my night terrors. They no longer freaked her out. I wasn't the only person, post apocalypse, who had trouble with bad dreams. Far from it. Some nights, the crying and screaming coming from different parts of camp were like the cackle calls of crows in a graveyard at dawn. You learned to adapt to new circumstances quickly, or you simply didn't survive. What once seemed unimaginable was now fairly commonplace. The bottom line was, you either got with the program or you got eaten. There was no other way.

A little part of your mind stayed alert, even when you were sleeping – just in case. Eventually you figured out the difference between the cries of a disturbed dream versus the shrill shriek of real danger. It took Felicity less than three months to sleep through nearly everything the camp threw at us, including me.

I turned and watched her sleep. She looked so happy, so beautiful, so at peace in her dream world.

If only that were the truth in our new lives, I thought with a smirk.

Things hadn't really gone according to plan since finding Moto in Hueneme. I remembered how scared I was to ask Felicity to marry me, how absolutely terrified I'd been that she'd laugh in my face. I hadn't been that afraid of the undead. Then after she’d agreed, after we'd kissed and time had stopped, something far more impossible had happened – the largest zombie horde I'd ever seen had breached the walls of the military base. I hadn't been thinking clearly at the time. Maybe it was her kiss, filling me up, making me feel invincible. Who knows? I'd jumped up ready to rush into action, but she'd held me back.

Turns out my new boss, General Conrad, was much more prepared after what had happened at Vandenberg. Just inside the walls, no less than a hundred feet onto the base, he'd had men dig deep trenches and load them with explosives rigged to go off by remote control. By the time the first wave of zoms had knocked down the electric fences, his finger was already on the trigger. Standard protocol for an invasion meant sending in troops to fight, but the General could see what we couldn't see from the ground – the horde spanned an enormous distance and was made up of thousands of the hungry dead. The General got on the radio and called back the troops, knowing he had only moments to secure the base or be overrun. There was no time for a warning. It was act fast or let us all die. He flipped the switch the second the soldiers had cleared the minimal safety distance, knocking most of them off their feet, including me. A terrible rain of decaying, infected body parts hung in the air like a cloud before falling back to earth and covering us all. In the chaos we were momentarily blinded and left helpless, but his plan had worked. What we couldn't see was the huge trench the explosions had ripped open that now swallowed up the rest of the flood of the unholy spawn as they tried to advance.

According to Felicity, the second wave of soldiers was there almost immediately with flamethrowers. They advanced on the pit, burning everything in their path to charred ashes. Once the initial danger was contained, a small group of soldiers broke ranks and began picking up the wounded and carrying us back to the medical stations. The force of the explosion had knocked me off my feet and left me with a mild concussion. While I was sure I was going to die, it turns out all I really needed was some rest. Felicity stayed by my side the entire time, refusing to leave. The last thing I wanted after being bitten and surviving was another stay in the infirmary, no matter how short. By the time I came to my senses, Moto was standing over me with tears in his eyes.

“What's going on?” I asked, disoriented.

“That's two close calls, little brother,” Moto said, rubbing my freshly shaved head like he was trying to get a genie to pop out of my nose.

I tried to sit up and push him away, but my head felt like a chapel bell being rung at high noon on a Sunday.

“Easy there,” Moto said. “The medic says you have a mild concussion. You're going to be down for a few more days.”

“What about the horde?”

“It's all under control,” Moto assured me.

“How?”

“The explosives were designed to cut a deep trench around the base, like a moat,” Moto explained. “Zoms that weren't blown to pieces were then incinerated by the next wave of fighters. We had teams scour the grounds for crawlers as well. Any infected biomaterial was thrown into the fire pit and burned. Everything has been taken care of. You're safe. We all are. You can relax and take some time to heal now.”

“Good,” Felicity mumbled. “Send them back to hell where they belong.”

I couldn't help but think how many of them were just like me, or Moto. We'd both been bitten and brought back. Was there a point when it was too late? Was there a point where you stopped being you? A point when you couldn't come back again? The thought sent a shiver down my spine.

“We're reporting zero casualties,” Moto said, ignoring Felicity's comment. “We have you to thank for that in no small part.”

“What?” I felt queasy as I sat up. How could I have been part of the solution when I just got here? How could I have helped at all? As far as I knew, I'd been locked up as soon I had arrived on the base, hallucinating for days on end, then knocked out again. I'd spent more time lying in the sick bay than I had standing on my feet. “How is that possible?”

“We learned a lot about how the horde operates from what you told us,” Moto said, “and also from Benji. General Conrad took that into account when he designed our defenses. He began digging the day you arrived. Everything went according to plan. The front gate is heavily fortified, and you'd need a pick ax and mountain climbing gear to get across the burning chasm.”

“And a whole lot of zombie repellent,” said a voice behind him as Benji shoved his way in. It felt good to see his smiling face. I couldn't figure out what it was about him, but he seemed different now, older somehow, more mature in spite of his youth. He wasn't the same comic-book-loving kid he'd been just a few weeks ago. He'd found his place in the world when they let him enlist. He was a soldier now, and it really suited him.

“You and I both know that doesn't exist,” I said with a grin.

“That's why I am working on it,” Benji replied.

“Good luck with that, kid,” I playfully teased him. “Sounds impossible if you ask me.”

“Oh I don't know,” Benji shrugged. “I once saw a guy walk through an entire parking lot of biters just to save my best friend, and all he used was a couple of mirrors. I'd say there is still a lot we don't know about them.”

“He's right,” Felicity rejoined. “We've still got a lot to learn.”

“Well, then I guess it's a good thing we went back for him,” I joked.

Benji had come close to being sacrificed by a freaky cult in Ojai, to a pit of zombies as part of a religious ceremony. They'd brainwashed him into staying, then drugged him the minute we left. Felicity and I had barely made it back in time to save him. We'd risked our lives to get him back. It was worth it. I'd do it again in a heartbeat. There was never a question about saving him. Still, I felt an amazing sense of pride as I realized what we had done, what it meant. Things had been happening so fast, I hadn't had time to think about my actions. From the minute we left Vandenberg until the minute I woke up in Hueneme it seemed like I'd been in react mode. First it was neo-Nazis and bikers, then rock stars and child celebrities, then cult members and cannibals. All the while, there were zombies right up until I'd been bitten. It's hard to process things when nothing ever slows down.

“Thanks again, man,” Benji said sincerely.

“If I'm gonna live, then why are you ready to cry me a river?” I turned on Moto who was caught off guard by my unexpected shift in conversation.

“What are you talking about?”

“You look like you've been cutting onions in the mess hall all afternoon,” I taunted.

“It's dusty out there,” he said defensively. I fought back a laugh. It felt good to be able to give him a hard time again. It felt good to be with my brother. “Plus there are zom particles in the air, that can't be any good for us to be breathing, and…”

“I told him,” Felicity interrupted at last. “They know we're getting married.”

“What are the odds of my little brother getting married before me?” Moto laughed, wiping the corners of his eyes. “Not even time for a proper bachelor party.”

“Good,” Felicity chimed in. “The last thing I want is a bunch of girls fawning over my man the night before we get married. I never understood the whole last night of freedom ritual.”

Benji and Moto exchanged looks, uncertain of what to say, as the room fell into an awkward silence. I'd never seen Felicity act jealous, but then again there was never a reason before today. We weren't really together back then, and aside from the underage wives of Bryan Crowe, there hadn't been anyone else to flirt with. Call me crazy, but I find it hard to see the attractive qualities of a woman holding an automatic weapon ready to cut you in half the minute her revered spiritual leader gives her the word. Then again, Felicity Jane had pointed a shotgun at me the first time we met.

I knew it was up to me to break the tension, so I tried a joke.

“Who needs a bachelor party when you've got medical grade pain killers?”

They all laughed as the tension melted away at last.

It felt good to have something to celebrate. It seemed for once that the tide was turning. For the first time since the whole zombie nightmare began, it seemed like we had something to look forward to – a real future.

We were married a week later at the chapel on the base. It was a small group, and a short ceremony. Moto and the General were there, along with Benji. There was a gaggle of recruits, all fans of Felicity, that made their way into the back of the church during the vows, but I couldn't be mad at them. The joy I felt inside was like nothing I could ever explain in words. It didn't matter that outside those walls, out beyond the trenches, there were still over a thousand undead monsters who wanted nothing more than to sink their teeth into us and drink every last drop of our blood. We were inside, we were safe, and I was in love.

A guy named Tom, who everyone called Badger, gave us his instant camera as a gift, with what may very well have been the last pack of film on earth for all we knew. Benji did the honors, snapping a shot of our first kiss as a married couple.

It's crazy to think that was just six months ago, I thought.

Felicity began to snore. I looked past her to the nightstand in the trailer we were living in, and caught a glimpse of the photo from our wedding day.

If only our happiness could have lasted just a bit longer, I thought.

So much had changed after that. General Conrad had died of a heart attack in his sleep shortly after our wedding, and despite the fact that Moto was on the short list of people who would take over at Hueneme, he'd grown increasingly paranoid about his safety – and ours.

Slowly, I crept out of bed and pulled a t-shirt on. I tiptoed across the bedroom floor of the mobile home and out into the living room, sliding the flimsy retractable door shut as I went. I peeked through the blinds. The sun was just coming up on the horizon. I could see signs of life in the camp as the day began. I was only half an hour early from the time I usually got up.

Civilian Defense Coordinator. That was my new job. Instead of fighting zombies head-on, or working on a plan to mass produce enough antidote to end the nightmare once and for all, we'd been shipped off to the middle of nowhere in a clean camp to help with survivors. It felt more like a punishment than anything else.

I've never felt this kind of resentment toward my brother, I thought. Not even when he arrived at our house and stole some of my father’s attention away from me.

Back then, I would have just been happy to see something lift the veil of sadness that had descended over our house since my mother’s death from cancer. In fact, the day we officially adopted Moto, the day he became Patrick Macnamara, was one of the best of my whole life. It was the day we became a family again. It wasn't until later that I realized how much he changed the family dynamic.

“You're a married man now,” Moto had said. “This is the best thing for you two. You've got to think about what she needs as well. Living in a combat zone isn't healthy for a relationship.”

I wanted to shout in his face, tell him he hadn't had a girlfriend since he was in tenth grade and he didn't know what he was talking about, but he wasn't just my brother anymore. He was my superior officer now, and I had to take it. I bit my tongue, but a slippery green demon of bitterness twisted in my stomach like a poisonous eel.

That's how we'd come to be in Freedom Town, a colony established between Edwards Air Force Base and Barstow. We'd been shipped out by rail to the unified military base in the middle of the desert extremes, then after a short two weeks of training, we were placed in charge of things in a community of survivors. Sure, Freedom Town had its own leaders, its own structure of social power, but when push came to shove they deferred completely to the military. It was wartime, after all. We could all be attacked at any moment by zombies or bikers or any number of rogue forces at work. The people looked to us as authorities. I often had the final say on how to handle matters.

We are the last remnants of true military might, I thought. And just maybe, the only hope this country has of ever being put back together again.

It felt weird to be in charge. Some of my men, my soldiers, were older than I was by several years. Not one of them challenged me. I had a few things going for me. First off, I was in charge of martial arts training and they'd seen me in action. Second, I was the brother of Patrick Macnamara, and people knew who he was. Last, but far from least, I was married to an actual celebrity. People may not have known who I was, but they sure knew exactly who Felicity Jane was. They lined up to stare at her. Eyes went to the ground and loud voices became a field mouse’s whisper the minute she entered a room, as if everyone had just been talking about her. I was sure it had earned me more than my fair share of admiration, at least in the first few weeks, before it began to sour into jealousy and backbiting.

Felicity may have been a celebrity, but she wasn't the only one in the camp. As luck would have it, Jamie Friendly was also a resident. He ran the makeshift school in Freedom Town, which oversaw the gaggle of young kids and rowdy teens. As the days began to pass and I settled into a routine of long days overseeing the camp, Felicity grew more pensive and withdrawn. When I suggested she take a job to pass her time, she had jumped at the idea.

“That's perfect,” Felicity practically shouted. “I've been thinking about teaching.”

“Teaching?” I shook my head dismissively. “You sure you want to expose yourself to those kids? They're not too far off from zombies, some of them anyway. You have no idea the headaches they've been causing around here since we showed up.”

“All the more reason,” Felicity said with a tilt of her head. Resolve and satisfaction were glimmering in her eyes as the idea of teaching took root. The last thing I wanted was to be away from her all day and have her with one of her own kind, a Hollywood insider. I told myself I didn't want her falling back into old patterns and bad habits by reliving the glory days, but something darker nagged at me from the pit of my stomach, something ugly and unrelenting. The truth was, I was terrified of losing her to him.

She never belonged with you and you know it, a voice deep down inside loudly whispered. She will realize that the minute she spends time with him. He's the kind of guy she should have married, not a kid with a sword.

The words in my head sent cold chills down my spine, worse than the apprehension about a zombie horde. I had to stop her, to keep her away from him, but I didn't know how without giving away my insecurity. I knew I was already too late, but I made one last feeble attempt.

“You think you've got what it takes to teach kids? Seriously?”

“So you don't? Is that it?!”

Fire burned in her eyes as she glowered at me. I felt like a deer frozen in the harsh headlight of an oncoming train.

“Of course not,” I quickly said, hoping to fend off another fight. “I just...”

“Good,” she interrupted. “Then it's settled. I'll let Jamie know you said so.”

Great, I thought. I've sent her running into his arms. Perfect.

Jamie Friendly had become famous from one of those singing competitions on reality television. He'd crooned his way through Killing Me Softly and all the girls had lost their minds. He was the favorite, guaranteed to win, but then at the last moment his ratings took a dip as his voice cracked during a long, high note and with that he came tumbling back to earth.

What was that story about the guy who flew too close to the sun? I wondered, unable to remember much more of the myth than the Led Zeppelin Zoso poster.

Jamie had then gone on to do a few endorsements for lame duck products, cashing in on his fame. Just when it looked like his fifteen minutes were up, he was cast in a previously canceled sitcom that had been picked up and put on Netflix. The show became a cult classic and even though he never became a top-tier celebrity or a bona fide A-lister, his newly revived popularity (along with a high-powered agent) had gotten him a few well-placed cameos in hit summer movies. He was always in the supermarket tabloids, being linked to one newly single actress or model after another.

How am I not supposed to think of about that every time she goes off to work with him?

I couldn't tell if Felicity was picking up on my vibes at first. If she noticed my apprehension at her mingling with the world she came from, she never showed it. Maybe she was just too excited at the thought of doing something new. She was a welcome addition as far as the camp was concerned. After her first week, parents began stopping us as we moved around the camp together in my few off hours to congratulate her and insist she continue. Felicity had taught at the school ever since. She was a natural. The kids loved her from the start, unlike their responses to me. She seemed to bloom after discovering a way to reinvent herself from child celebrity on a pedestal to a productive member of the colony.

Just as I suspected, she grew closer and closer to Jamie, and it put a distance between us, a coldness I tried to swallow down. Several times a week, I would drop by the school unannounced to check up on her in the hopes of catching them being inappropriate in some way. It never happened mind you, but she got the idea I was up to something pretty fast. Felicity isn't a dummy. She knew that, for some reason, I didn't trust her completely and eventually she stopped trying to convince me things were okay between us.

Funny, I thought, looking at her as she slept, Moto thought sending us out here would be good for our marriage. I think it's the exact opposite. If we had stayed on the base, far away from Jamie Friendly, none of this would ever have happened.

My train of thought was interrupted just then by a bloodcurdling scream. This one wasn't a bad dream – it was real. To underscore the seriousness of the situation Felicity Jane shot up in bed, wide awake and ready for battle.

“Which direction did it come from?” Felicity was yelling. Her eyes were wide with fear and adrenaline.

“It came from near the south entrance from what I can te...,” I started.

“The schoolhouse,” she said in a panic, cutting me off. She was out of bed and running out the door seconds later, still dressed in her nightgown. I grabbed my sword and raced after her as fast as my feet could carry me.

Chapter Three

My eyes are playing tricks on me, I thought. They have to be!

There was a semicircle of people standing around the front of the schoolhouse not saying anything. In the middle was one of my soldiers, Andrew. He was now a fully turned zombie. His face was smeared with bright red, fresh blood. He had something small in his hands, something delicate looking, a fresh kill! It didn't make any sense at first.

What is that thing? I thought. And why is everyone just standing around?

It felt like I was still dreaming. There was a sense of shock and terror as we listened to him slurping away on his meal. I saw lace. I saw flowery print. I saw soft, auburn hair with a silk bow.

He killed a kid, I thought. No! He killed a little girl.

The thing that used to be Andrew held her in his arms and chewed at her steaming guts as if she was a freshly baked cherry pie. No one moved. No one spoke. They all just stared on in horror.

The realization brought me back around like a splash of cold water to the face. We were all in danger. Were there others in the camp? Were we under attack? This was a disaster in every sense of the word, and it happened on my watch! I needed to control the situation fast. I bounded out in front of the crowd and held my hands up.

“Everyone needs to step back,” I commanded.

“Susan?” Felicity spoke in a broken voice just above a whisper. A single tear rolled down her face.

I turned my head for a split second, and saw zombie Andrew lift his head and growl at me like a mad dog. There was foam dripping out of a hole in his lip that he'd bitten through in a hurry to gulp down his hot meal. Before I could react, Felicity jumped toward me. I turned back to shield her from what I assumed was an attack, but she pushed me off of her as anger gleamed in her determined eyes. I heard the whoosh of my sword, as it was unsheathed from its case on my back by someone else. I fell off balance, and caught myself with one hand before I hit the ground. I turned back in time to see Felicity bringing my katana down in a sweeping motion across the monsters drooling face. She let out a soul-wrenching howl as she cut him down. His head fell open and he went limp and lifeless, the young girl in his arms rolling forward like a bag of spilled apples.

She's gone mad! She'll get herself bitten!

Panic shot through me. My soldiers were on us in seconds, weapons hot and ready for action. Felicity turned back to me, chest heaving, sweat dripping down her eyes. She stared at me with a mixture of anguish and fear. She held my stare like an accusation, blood dripping off my blade. She walked back to me and held the sword out. I took it gently, the tips of our fingers lingering for just a moment like a secret code letting me know we were going to be all right.

But we still need to talk, my eyes said. Once this is over.

“What the hell have you done?!!!”

Gavin, one of the Freedom Town Camp Council members ambled forward on his cane.

“You're supposed to protect us, not let the monsters in!”

Gavin was always looking to stir things up, then take advantage of the ensuing chaos. He was a master at it. In his previous life, before Z Day, he'd been a Senator for a short while before a scandal involving his secretary had left him disgraced and unable to carry on as the Family Value’s candidate.  The way he carried himself, you'd never have known. Everything from the way he held his head to the tone of his voice suggested that Gavin was beyond reproach, as if he'd never stooped so low as to even tell a little white lie, much less sullied his reputation with worldly pitfalls.

He's like one of those television preachers they used to have, I thought. The kind that spoke in tongues and cast judgment on others before begging for money. The kind usually banished to the obscure cable channels back in the day.

Ever since I had been put in charge, I'd found myself locking horns with him. I felt the anger boiling inside me like a bubbling cauldron of hot acid. It was wrong that he was using the death of a small child to advance his own pursuit of power. I opened my mouth to give him a piece of my mind, but was buried under a barrage of scared and angry voices all talking at once…like a verbal avalanche of word vomit.

“That's Harmony Johnson. He killed little Harmony.”

“How did he get in here in the first place?”

“What are you doing to keep us safe?”

“What aren't you telling us?”

“Enough!” I shouted at the top of my lungs. The camp went silent. I noticed Felicity stiffen out of the corner of my eye. My throat stung from yelling so hard.

“First things first,” I said, putting on my official voice. “Soldiers, I want a full perimeter sweep now. Check all access points. I want a full report on how he got in. Go NOW!”

“Yes sir,” they said in unison. The soldiers moved off quickly, many of them looking happy to have an excuse to leave and be doing something productive instead of sitting around arguing. Every last one of them was a trained warrior with little patience for council meetings and politicking. They were right at home in the heat of battle, but their eyes went glassy dealing with the daily grind of camp interactions, especially when things devolved into pointless bickering.

“Now,” I said, turning back to folded arms and wild-eyed stares. “I need everyone to stay calm while we work on getting to the bottom of things. In the meantime, I want you all to go secure your homes. We'll meet back in ten minutes right here. Hopefully by then, we'll know exactly how this happened.”

I looked around, but no one moved at first. I realized they were waiting for me to tell them they could leave.

“Okay then, let's go,” I said, my voice softening.

With that they turned and shuffled away, their voices a murmuring chorus of anxiety and frustration. I turned to see Felicity hugging Harmony's sister, Janice. Jamie was there too, talking calmly to them. Felicity turned and hugged Jamie. I felt like the wind had been punched out of me. I saw red. I felt like I couldn't breathe anymore. I turned and stormed off back to our trailer. Halfway there she caught up with me.

“Wait,” Felicity said, grabbing my hand. “Wait for me, Xander!”

I turned and pulled free from her.

“Let go,” I said, feeling utterly betrayed.

“Why are you acting like this? Is this because I touched your sword without asking? I'll clean it. I promise.”

I couldn't let her know how jealous I was of Jamie. It would only make things worse, hearing her deny what I'd just witnessed with my own eyes. I was already having the worst morning of my life. I couldn't handle any more.

“I'm in charge.” I said, glaring at her. I turned and walked back into the musky trailer. Flies were now lazily zigzagging back and forth inside, having made their way into the cool shade when I ran out and forgot to close the door.

“So what?” Felicity charged in and got right in my face. “You wanted to be the one to kill your buddy Andrew? Is that it? You wanted to be the big hero?”

“That's not it at all,” I yelled back. “I don't care that you did it. I'm glad you did. It needed to be done.”

I took a rag and began cleaning the blade, anything to not look at her, to keep my hands busy. Felicity just stared at me, the anger seeping out of her. She looked confused.

She'd thought she bruised my ego by killing a man instead of letting me do it? She thought that's what this was all about? The hurt goes way deeper than that! Why can't she see the truth?

“Talk to me, Xander,” she said, sitting on the bed. “I'm sorry I yelled. What's going on?”

“This is a nightmare,” I replied, shifting gears. “I'm supposed to keep these people safe. Andrew was supposed to be protecting them, and instead he killed a little girl. What am I doing wrong?”

“It's not your fault,” Felicity cooed. “He was probably bitten outside, made his way home in denial, then turned after he passed the gates. If he concealed his wound, there would be no way to know he was infected until he did what he did this morning.”

“How could he?” I looked at her as I spoke. “How could he purposely do something like that, knowing he was hurting the people he loved the most?”

“I'm sure he just wasn't thinking,” said Felicity, still holding my accusing glare. “Most likely he didn't want to hurt anyone. He just didn't want to die alone. He wanted to go home after a long night and go to sleep and wake up and have it all be a bad dream.”

We stared at each other for a moment, and then she took me in her arms and gave me a hug. I felt like I could stay in that moment with her forever. I flirted with the idea of quitting my post right then and there, of taking Felicity away somewhere and living on our own. The idea brought a smile to my face and I felt the tension leave me, even though I knew it was just a fantasy. A loud knock on the door brought me back to reality.

“Come in,” I said. Justin, the head of my guard, walked in and saluted as I stood up and faced him. “What's your report?”

“The grounds are secure, sir,” Justin barked.

“How did Andrew get inside after he was infected?”

“The guard at the gate said Andrew worked the night shift,” Justin explained. “He came in at daybreak, limping. Claimed he'd twisted his ankle. There were no visible marks, sir.”

I looked over at Felicity, and she nodded. Once again, she'd been right.

“Head back over to the schoolhouse and let everyone know that I am on my way,” I said. When he hesitated I added, “That's an order.” He saluted, and left without delay.

I turned back to Felicity.

“Looks like you called it,” I said, a feeling of heaviness settling back over me that went bone deep. “Well, better get this over with. We have a funeral to plan. It's going to be a long day and a longer night.”

“I know what you're going to do, but you can't.” Felicity stared at me with fear in her eyes. “You're going to volunteer to take the night shift. It's not safe, Xander.”

“That's exactly why I need to be out there,” I said. “How can I ask any of my men to go out there now if I'm not willing to?”

“These people need you,” Felicity roared. “They need you here and alive. I need you. You're a married man now, in case you forgot.”

“I'm not the one with the memory problem,” I spat back. “I'm sure I'd be doing you a favor if I went out there tonight and didn't come back. Then you two could just be together and no one would say anything.”

The words were out before I could stop them. The look on Felicity's face told me she was caught off guard. It was the last thing she had expected.

“What are you talking about?”

“I see how you are with him,” I said, my guts twisting in knots as the words bubbled out like gas coming up out of a tar pit.

“Who?”

“Jamie Friendly,” I sputtered. It felt good to get it out, even if there couldn't have been a worse time “That's what you want, isn't it? You don't have to pretend anymore.”

The look of surprise slipped off Felicity's face as she doubled over in genuine laughter.

“That's what this is all about? You think Jamie and me…? Oh Xander. Give me a little more credit.”

She was mocking me to my face. I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. I turned and marched out. She called after me, but I didn't stop. I couldn't. My head was swimming at the exchange we'd just had. It was more than I could handle. My feet seemed to move on their own, finding the path between trailers and tents, back to the front of the schoolhouse. A huge crowd had formed. The whole camp was there, including Gavin and the Council. Andrew’s corpse had been removed, and a blanket had been used to cover up Harmony's tiny, defiled body.

“Okay, listen up,” I yelled, pulling all eyes on me. “We've been able to ascertain how an infected colonist was able to get back into camp after being infected outside. Many of you knew and loved Andrew, just like I did. He was a good man and a good soldier, but he let his guard down and he got bitten. At some point last night Andrew made a terrible choice, the kind of awful decision many of us might have made under the same circumstances. Andrew decided to conceal his infection and return to camp.”

A wave of murmurs and gasps washed over the crowd. There were even some denials.

You're losing them, I thought. You need to keep on top of the story or things will spin out of control.

“We inspected his body and found confirmation that he'd been attacked during his guard shift last night,” I continued. “When asked why he was limping, Andrew lied and said he'd only sprained his ankle. He deceived us all. I'm sure he just wanted to be home one last time. Perhaps he was in a state of denial about his condition, about the unbearable future awaiting him, what that bite meant. Andrew was a good man. He would never have wanted to harm anyone, particularly a child.”

I looked at Felicity. She was fighting back tears. She didn't look upset at me anymore, just emotional from the day. I wondered what had changed since our argument. My eyes wandered over to Jamie Friendly. He was staring at Felicity with concern, but she wouldn't acknowledge him. An icy wall came down inside me, and I turned my attention back to the crowd.

“Andrew signed on to serve and to protect others. The monster that took Harmony away from us bore little resemblance to the man we'd all come to know and will truly miss. I want to assure you that we are as safe as we can possibly be under the circumstances of the new world we are living in. That being said, let this incident be a reminder of just what kind of danger we are facing.”

I looked around at the sad and tired faces looking in my direction. The last thing these people needed was another reminder, and I knew it.

“We must remain vigilant in our efforts to safeguard this camp from the dangers of the outside world,” I continued, turning and looking pointedly at several teens at the edges of the crowd who looked listless. “There will be a funeral service for Andrew and Harmony at the Church at one o'clock. Anyone who'd like to volunteer to help can stay behind.”

When I finished talking, the crowd broke up. Most of them walked away, while a small knot of friends and family surrounded Harmony's body and began moving her. Jamie Friendly walked over and stuck out his hand to me.

Has she talked to him already? I wondered.

I was shaking his hand before I knew what I was doing, and it made me sick to my stomach. More than anything I wanted to kick his feet out from underneath him and knock the wind out of his chest. The thought of it made me smirk, and I squeezed his hand tighter.

That would take him down a few notches, I thought.

“I'd like to help you,” Jamie said with a kind smile. “It's been a hard day for everyone.”

I hate the fact that the guy is always smiling at me, I thought, as a black cloud rolled over my mood. And would it kill him to put a shirt on when he's not working? What kind of arrogant idiot is always trying to show off his muscles? Big deal, pal. So you're in shape. So what?

I abruptly pulled my hand free.

“Fine,” I said gruffly. “We're going to need some help digging graves. You can put those muscles of yours to good work.”

“I'm glad to help in any way I can,” Jamie said, perking up a bit. He'd obviously mistaken my sarcasm for a compliment.

“Why don't you head on over to the church then,” I suggested, losing my patience with him. “Let them know I sent you over on orders and make them give you a shovel.”

“You got it,” he said in a pleasant voice. “Thanks.”

Thanks for what? I wondered.

The service was a somber affair. Neither the soldiers nor the townsfolk wanted to say anything nice about Andrew after what he had done. All his good deeds were washed away with the gruesome image of him feasting on a child, one of the most adored in the colony. She was supposed to be a pioneer, blazing a trail toward a new generation of survivors while keeping the best our civilization had to offer. Instead, she was now just another corpse. For a moment, it made me sad and the words got stuck in my throat. Then I thought about Andrew.

All his hopes and dreams were shattered too. To make matters worse he was also now the target of rage and scorn from every last man, woman, and child at Freedom Town. No one ever again would think about the way he used to smile and crack a joke to lighten the mood. No one would remember his easy ways again, how he always seemed to have an ear to listen to your problems when you really wanted to get them out, yet he never tried to offer you any unwanted advice. You'd have to drag a suggestion out of him. He wasn't there to try to push his own agenda. You always just felt better after unloading your worries on him, even though he didn't have a single answer to your problems. No one would remember how hard working and committed he was, how he always offered to pitch in just when you needed a hand the most, which is what got him killed in the first place after volunteering for the night shift.

I'm the only one who had anything good to say about him, I thought. My words will be the last to mark his time in this living hell.

Harmony, on the other hand, got an outpouring of love befitting one of the most beloved children in the colony. The Freedom Town pastor, Craig Benson, was on hand to read quotes from the Bible. Felicity and Jamie both spoke, as her teachers, telling her father and sister what a great student Harmony had been, how full of promise. Harmony's sister, Janice, didn't cry. I thought that was strange. She just had a faraway look in her eyes, as if she was locked in a bad dream and was waiting to wake up from it. Her father, Stanley 'the Stone' Johnson, was unable to muster her stoicism and restraint. The man earned his nickname for being built like a pile of boulders. If there was physical labor to be done around the camp, he was involved in some way. It was disturbing to see this great heap of a man openly weep, tears streaming down his face and pleading sounds escaping his quivering lips.

When the services were over and the tiny, makeshift casket had been lowered into the ground, most of the people who came just milled about comforting one another. I needed a moment alone to think. A lot had happened in a short period of time. I always felt better when I was exercising. Working a routine cleared my mind faster than anything else. So I lit out and went behind the barn, katana in hand. I was going to warm up with some Tai Chi and move on to sword practice, but I never made it that far. Instead, I ran smack into Felicity in the arms of Jamie again, this time hidden away from prying eyes. A raw current of anger shot through me, freezing me in my tracks. Felicity pulled back and they held hands, staring into each other’s eyes.

“Thank you,” she said gently, the tenderness in her voice working my nerves to a high-pitched scream.

“For what?” Jamie asked. “It sounds like all I brought you was trouble.”

“For everything you've given me,” Felicity said earnestly. “I never would have made it through those first few weeks without you.”

So it's been going on since the start, I thought. How many people know about it? Have they all known since the start? She's been making a fool of me, and everyone has been playing along!

“That's about enough of that,” I said in a steady voice, advancing on them. They both turned to me with shock and fear in their eyes. Felicity quickly pulled her hands free, a guilty look crossing her face.

“Xander! It's not what you...,” Jamie began.

“Save it,” I cut him off. “We're going to handle this like men from here on out. Men don't sneak around like cowards. They face each other head-on.”

“You're making a big mistake,” Felicity warned me.

“I took on a zombie army before,” I laughed. “I think I can handle your little boyfriend here.”

Jamie held his hands up to me, palms out.

“I'm not sure what you think is happening,” Jamie said, “but nothing is going on between your wife and me. We're just friends, man. We work together.”

I stepped forward and swung at his head with my fist. Jamie narrowly ducked under the swing. I heard Felicity scream.

“XANDER, NO!”

The anger is making you sloppy, I thought. Pull it together.

I pushed into Jamie with my right shoulder, setting him off balance. I could see his face close up, the fear and confusion hardening into hate.

Good, I thought darkly. Let's do this thing for real. It's no fun if you don't fight back.

Jamie balled up his fist and swung. I stepped past him, and he lurched forward. I brought my elbow down into his arm. He teetered off balance, pitching forward. I used my free hand to rabbit punch the back of his head, sending him face down into the dirt. He came up coughing with a mouthful of sand. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes. A rush of dark pride washed through me, as I saw him lying helpless on the ground. The fight was already over, and it had barely started. I'd easily conquered him.

“Don't hurt him!” Felicity yelled, running forward to help Jamie.

The feeling of false pride began to flag and I felt a stitch of humiliation again, mixed with embarrassment at what I'd done. I didn't understand why it bothered me in the moment. I knew I was totally right to do what I'd done. Surely no one would question that!

“It's okay,” Jamie said, pushing himself up into a sitting position. He looked up at me as he spit out a handful of dust. “You win, tough guy. Hope that makes you feel better.” Jamie got up and walked off with his head held high. Felicity turned an evil glare on me. Without a word, she walked off in the opposite direction.

Winning has never felt so hollow and empty, I thought as I watched her walk away.

Chapter Four

I sat in our trailer oiling my blade for hours, replaying it all in my head.

I did the right thing, I thought. I stood up for my marriage and myself. So why do I feel so terrible?

The sun began to set, and Felicity still hadn't returned. I wasn't worried about her safety, far from it. Aside from the highly unusual events of that morning, the colony was probably the safest place I'd lived since the Z Day. The perimeters had drop boxes: metal cages hewn into the earth that you could jump into and swing shut behind you if you were being chased by a zom. They came with ration kits, water, and flares for signaling the others.

It's hard to say how many lives those drop boxes saved in the first few months before the three-stage entry was installed at the edges of the colony. The very first night Felicity and I arrived in Freedom Town there had been a scare – three adult biters had made it in past the barbed wire, in search of fresh meat near the south entrance. An alarm sounded and there was screaming and pandemonium, with people darting back and forth trying to figure out what to do. Many of the colony's women picked up small children and ran for the drop boxes, locking themselves in. The light from the flares drew in the undead, and the men made short work of them. The women refused to come out until the encampment was searched and cleared. The row of flares gave off a beautiful arc of raw pink color as they blended with the low-level morning fog. By the next morning, the camp was dead quiet again as the doors were swung open. The coast was clear. Not a single infected soul remained. The women emerged still clutching their children close to them.

We had such high hopes back then, I thought. This was going to be the start of a new life for us. We were so close then, so happy. What went wrong?

The next day at a colony-wide meeting we came up with the idea of creating battle stations: two story structures that could be quickly scaled by able-bodied humans, filled with arms and supplies. Zombies lack the coordination needed to climb. I'd heard stories about them making it up stairs, but they couldn't scale a fence. Instead, they gathered around walls and fences and used the force of their bodies to knock them over. Each battle station avoided that problem by digging a twenty-foot moat around the base, with swinging ropes hanging over the sides for living people to ferry themselves to safety. It would take a massive horde the size of several towns worth of people to fill the moat and allow the rest of the biters to gather at the base. As far as I knew, I was the only one who had ever seen hordes that size working together. I didn't bring it up during the meeting.

If that happens, I remember thinking, we are all done for. The only thing left to do will be to take out as many of them as we can. Only the people locked in the drop boxes will survive, and then only until their rations run out. At that point they'll become snack boxes for the hungry dead, sort of like Lunchables.

The original sketches resembled tree houses more than anything else, but the final product turned out to be much more like the flat frame of a suburban model house. Tanner, an amiable construction worker in his late twenties with a grizzly beard and a perma-grin, had been placed in charge of assembling them. He drew up a series of plans that spaced the stations evenly near the colony's boundary. That way they served not only the purpose of being a refuge to escape an attack, and a fully equipped battle station that allowed a person to survive up to three days with rations while raining down death, but also became a lookout for hordes or any other nefarious activities that seemed to flourish unbidden beyond the gates of our alluring settlement.

Tanner was a regular worker bee. A skilled taskmaster with an easy disposition, he whistled a merry tune while pitching in on every aspect of production. He could be seen in his colorful rainbow tie-dye, offering assistance and encouragement to all the volunteers. While many of Freedom Town’s patchwork quilt of residents were often dour and sullen, Tanner was rarely less than cheerful. At first I thought perhaps he had managed to escape tragedy before arriving in camp, but Felicity blew that theory out of the water one night after dinner.

“He lost everything,” Felicity said in between bites of jack rabbit stew. “He was doing construction in Nevada when it happened. He was the foreman of a huge crew that was building tract homes in some enormous new suburb outside Paradise Valley. He got a call before the phone lines went down, jumped right in his truck, and took off for his home in Sacramento. His sister and her husband had just had their first child. They were visiting him, and so were his parents. He came home to a gruesome site. His wife, his two sons, his entire family... all dead.”

“What!” I recoiled in horror as an unbidden shiver danced icily down my spine, making the hair on my arms stand straight up.

“The whole house was covered in blood and guts,” Felicity continued. “His parents had already turned. He had to put them down. Then he put a bullet in the heads of his wife and kids, you know, just to be sure.”

“That is…horrible,” I stammered. “I can't even imagine. As much as I miss them, there are days I am glad that my parents were both gone before all of this insanity started up. I'm not sure I would be able to kill them myself.”

“I know what you mean,” Felicity agreed, turning toward me in bed. “Xander, you have to promise me if I am ever bitten that you will make sure I'm not coming back, that you will be that strong.”

“I don't even want to think about it,” I gasped.

“But that's the point,” she argued. “Whether you want to think about it or not, it might happen one day. That's what makes things so screwed up. I need to know you won't let me hurt other people, that you won't let me suffer.”

“I am not going to let anything happen to y…,” I countered, but she cut me off mid-sentence.

“I know you don't want anything to happen, but you can't control everything,” she insisted. “That's why I need your word.”

“If you are ever bitten by a zombie I will not stop until you have been turned back to normal,” I swore. “Just like I was. Or did you forget that there is a working cure out there?”

“But what if…,” she started in again, but I cut her off this time.

“No buts,” I said fiercely. “I'm not losing you, Felicity Jane Macnamara. Ever. You got that?”

She smiled and kissed me.

“Yes sir,” she cooed. We made out like the newlyweds we were, but I couldn't get the image of what Tanner went through out of my head. I'd see him around camp and wonder what terrible thoughts he harbored behind that passive smile.

Every survivor here has their own unique tale of how they’d made it this far, I reminded myself. Every one of them has seen or done terrible things to have made it this far. There are no exceptions. This we all have in common.

I had really wanted to talk to Felicity before I went out for the night on patrol. We'd never fought like this before. I wasn't sure what to expect.

Your marriage is over for sure, I thought. For all you know, she is with him right now. They're probably planning how they're going to tell you without provoking another incident.

I shook my head violently to clear my thoughts.

“Get focused,” I barked at myself. “You can't afford to be distracted, not tonight, not if you're going to survive.”

The mini pep talk worked for the moment, bringing me back to reality. I knew it was time to go. I got up and zipped up my jacket, heading out to the south gate at a brisk pace, hoping to avoid Felicity seeing me leave. I was worried she might try to follow me. I didn't want to have a fight in public. I was the highest-ranking soldier in Freedom Town. I couldn't allow anything to undermine my authority. The last thing I needed was the civilian population of the colony gossiping about me having trouble in my own marriage.

Too late for that, the little voice in the back of my head chided. Word is bound to have gotten around that I had attacked Jamie Friendly. Would they know why? Did everyone already know?

“That's worry enough for tomorrow,” I reminded myself as I passed out of Freedom Town and saluted the guard on duty.

“Stay safe,” he shouted down to me. “Watch your back.”

“You too,” I said, locking eyes with him. There was something else in his eyes. Was it about the fight, or what Andrew had done? Or was it something else altogether?

“Let's hope it's a quiet night,” I yelled back to him. “Keep your eyes peeled and don't fall asleep.”

He nodded, then looked away. I turned and walked head first and confident into the dark of night. Outside the walls of the sanctuary things took a sharp turn for the worse almost immediately. A movie set designer working on an apocalypse film could barely have dreamed up things so amazing and awful.

Spielberg couldn't have planned a better end of the world, I thought.

I zipped up my military jacket, covering most of my neck, but I still felt cold – like some kind of creeping dread was settling into my legs and turning them into frozen concrete.

Funny, I thought. Barstow is a desert, which makes you think it would be hot all the time. Instead, it's been mostly freezing ever since we got here. Unbearably hot at points true, but always in the middle of the day, then biting cold at night.

Thinking about the pun I'd just made caused me to let out a dry chuckle. Biting. Good one. The thought of my crawler dream with Sam made me involuntarily shiver, and then check my legs. They looked to be in perfect working order.

Keep it together man, I thought.

I knew better than anyone that all it took was a single moment of not being totally present, not being totally mindful, and you were a goner. That's what had happened to Andrew. That's why I was out doing night patrols, instead of working out my fight with Felicity and spending the night cuddled up with her someplace safe.

That may never happen again, I thought with sadness. Who would I be without her? What would be left to fight for?

I made a full pass along the south-facing wall of Freedom Town, then came back up along the westward facing fences and trenches. For the most part it was uneventful. There was nothing west of us for miles and miles, other than the base in Mojave. I could make out the thin lights at the edge of the desert horizon, but they seemed a million miles away. When trouble came they would be too far away to rely on. We'd be on our own and they'd be nothing more than backup if we were pinned down by a siege.

It's like they planned it this way, I thought, kicking over some loose rocks with the toe of my boot. It's like they wanted us to draw the heavy fire so they could swoop in fresh and prepared, and be our saviors when the time came.

Only it never happened. For the most part Freedom Town was an undiscovered oasis, a desert paradise in the middle of nowhere, like a mirage. We hadn't gotten a single visitor from Lancaster, Palmdale, or California City since I had been put in charge. Victorville was to the south, and further down was the edge of the Los Angeles basin.

They might as well be wastelands, I thought. Black holes that no light or life escaped from.

If people did make it north they stuck to the roads and went right past us. Once a group of survivalists from Rancho Cucamonga accidentally made it up to the gates of Freedom Town in a dust colored station wagon loaded down with supplies under a tarp strapped to the top. The back looked like it was crammed full of gas and water. They'd been running from someone or something, but wouldn't tell us what. Areas outside military control were lawless badlands where anything could happen. Rule of law was a long-forgotten fantasy. Outside, it was kill or be killed. I'd seen it firsthand before making it to Hueneme.

We'd offered to take them in, but all they wanted were directions toward Barstow. The only woman with them, a dowdy-looking redhead with freckled skin and a big cauliflower nose, glanced longingly at our camp. She looked bone tired. She whispered something in her man's ear that led to him asking about overnight lodging. When it was explained that we'd have to search the vehicle and take a rations tax if they stayed with us, as well as submit to a code of conduct, the man threw his head back to the sky and let out a hearty, sardonic chuckle. He looked like an out of season, demented shopping mall Santa.

“Never mind,” he said, waving his people back to their barely functioning vehicle. “It ain't worth it. There are things out here worse than you can imagine, kid, but none as terrible as having to sit through being lectured about rules by a child in a uniform. We’ll take our chances outside.”

That's what you think, I muttered to myself. Obviously you've never met the cannibal scavengers of Paradise City!

Their car made some crazy noises, loose belts whining and hard knocks visibly shaking the vehicle’s frame, before sputtering off toward Barstow. I never saw them again.

The real trouble always seemed to come from the east, from the direction of Barstow and the Alpha camps that lay in between. Barstow was completely under the control of the Unity Gang. It was made up of bikers and gang bangers who'd joined forces after Z Day to rain down terror and mayhem on those of us who managed to survive. They controlled most of Northern California and all the way down to Santa Barbara, where they were cut off by a rival biker gang called Sons of the Golden Dawn. The Sons blocked them from spreading south by cutting off the narrow corridor by the ocean that led to Ventura and Los Angeles. Unity Gang then fanned out, taking everything they could get from out East all the way to Vegas, where they coupled with the biggest known biker gang in the world at that point – the Warriors. Warriors and Unity Gang were two sides of a terrible coin. They were cut from the same cloth in every way – ruthless and cunning, they lacked morals and knew no mercy, not even for their own kind. They both dealt in drugs, child trafficking, zombie fighting, moonshine, extortion, mayhem, and murder for sport. They immediately loved one another like long lost kin.

The Alphas, on the other hand, were a wandering tribe of nomads living in and around the Barstow desert area. Mostly scavengers, they survived by attacking weaker convoys and hijacking travelers on the road. They were often referred to as Desert Hillbillies.

They ought to call themselves The Crazies, I thought with a smirk. Every last one of them is a raging psychopath who will turn on you at the drop of a hat!

Alphas were about as unpredictable a group of people as you'd ever meet. They didn't have a single leader telling them what to do. Instead each tribe did as it saw fit, and they met at random intervals in different locations for Tribal Council meetings, where the leaders of each group of scavengers often drank and fought with one another to settle old grudges. A soldier back on base at Edwards had told me about it right after Felicity and I had arrived. He'd been taken hostage by them the first week he'd been here, after shipping out from a working base in Colorado. He'd managed to escape, but was so shaken by what he'd seen, he was unable to speak about it for weeks. Lying in the dark one night, he whispered to me about how they lived like wild animals and were just as hostile. He said he never knew what they might to do him or when it was going to happen. When I asked him why he thought he was still alive, he didn't hesitate to explain.

“They were planning on eating me,” he said with a loud gulp. “They would have too if they didn't catch that kid instead. It was terrible. I heard them take him out screaming and wailing, and I never saw him again. I escaped later that night when they were drunk. One of the Alphas had partially untied me when they planned on taking me out back and butchering me. I bit at the rope until my gums bled, and managed to pull free.”

“Sounds intense,” I whispered back.

“It was,” he assured me. “They had me in a tent of some sort, tied down to a stake in the ground. When I decided it was time to make my break, I bolted out through the flap ready to run, but my foot caught on a patch of slick and I tumbled forward face first into a wet pile of mess. I turned my head at the last minute and my cheek collided with something hard, almost knocking me out. I looked down at my hands and saw blood, and for a moment I thought I was already done for. Then I realized what it was. It was a chopping block of wood and steel with a butcher's cleaver in it. There was a head lying on top that used to belong to a small child. His unblinking eyes were staring dead into mine. They had carved him up like a Thanksgiving turkey right outside my tent, and left the unwanted parts out for the flies to lay maggots in.”

I didn't know what to say. I felt my stomach churn in the darkness, and for some reason I thought about poor little Sam. I could still see his sad eyes staring at me as I gave him the Snickers bar and sent him on his way to die. In my mind, those same eyes stared back at me from that slaughter block.

“I heard one of them laugh behind me, and I wheeled around in terror,” he continued. “Turns out they hadn't seen a thing. Unity Gang had joined them after the feast and they were too busy bartering with them to notice me. I heard them arguing over a price for my head, but I didn't stick around to hear what the bid was. I sprang up and ran straight out into the desert night. When my lungs burned and my legs felt like they were made out of heavy old tires filled with concrete, I remembered that head on the block. An animal fear ran through me and kept me moving. They say I was like a savage covered in dried blood when they found me and put me in quarantine. They thought for sure I had been bitten. I was unable to speak, I was panting and moaning, and I was soaked from the head down in human blood. To this day, my buddy Roger says he came within seconds of popping a cap in me.”

There were other similar stories you'd hear being passed around, but none quite as colorful or as jarring as that one. I hoped that I'd never cross paths with cannibal Alphas, especially after coming so close to being taken by their kind back in Paradise City.

I'd rather go down fighting than surrender and let them do that to me, I thought.

Above Freedom Town was a small highway called 58 that led to the city center of Barstow. Sometimes trouble came from that direction, but not often. There wasn't anything up there that interested us. There was an old strip mine operation that worked the land for precious metals, and back against the hill stood a huge, ominous white building that once belonged to one of the companies in the aerospace industry.

Below Freedom Town was Pearblossom Highway and civilization, or what was left of it. We were nestled to the west of Helendale and Silverlake, between highways 395 and 15, out in the middle of nowhere where no one would ever need to bother with us. There had been talk from the start about pushing into the well-manicured neighborhood to the east, especially with it's lake front properties and the cool breeze it would afford us to ward off the desert heat, but it had been ruled uninhabitable for now. While I never said anything when the others would daydream about it, I knew I didn't want to live there. I was glad we weren't being asked to reclaim it. One thing I'd learned was that moving into abandoned neighborhoods came with unexpected surprises. First of all, you'd have to clean it up and clear it of danger, and not just zombies. People kept all sorts of strange things they had no business collecting and left them just strewn around in suburbia. The more money they had, the more junk they acquired.

The other reason was that once you established something as yours, you had to defend it. That's when you became a target. The others might not understand it, but as far as I was concerned it was inevitable. Once we moved in and prettied everything up, it would only be a matter of time until the bikers came to get their piece of our freshly restored nirvana. Then we'd be just like the people of New Lompoc, making horrible decisions and turning on ourselves to protect our little scrap of land, the small piece of civilization we'd carved out for ourselves. I didn't fancy the idea of taking orders from another guy like John, or worse still – becoming him!

Out in the camps of Freedom Town we had a peace most settlers couldn't imagine, even if life was tainted by hard work and austerity. It was clean, honest, and unattached.

Attachment is the root of all evil, I reminded myself. Once you become attached and you can't bear to part with something, that's when they've got you. That's when people get hurt and lives are lost. That's what turns people into real monsters.

The only problem with our plan was the Alphas. They were just too damn unpredictable. You never knew what they really wanted, and having no leader, no central focus, just made them that much harder to deal with.

They're nothing but a bunch of sociopaths, I thought. No conscience, no morals, no feelings. They're worse than zombies in so many ways. Zombies are victims too. Alphas are Satan's lapdogs.

As I made the turn around the Northwestern part of the perimeter I heard some rustling in the low-lying scrub brush and stopped dead in my tracks, listening for anything. First, I scanned my immediate area from the boots out, then I began checking the weeds for signs of movement. The last thing I wanted was to mistake a crawler for a rabbit and get taken down. It happened more than people realized. Zombies didn't die just because you cut them in half or tore off their arms. People ran them over, people diced them up, but still the dead kept coming. A pair of teeth and a functioning brain stem were all they needed to keep going. Most people were so terrified of them, they didn't check to make sure they'd taken out the brain. That was the only way to kill them for real. That was the only known way to ensure they didn't come back. Most people didn't give a damn about making sure they were put down for good. That's why it was entirely possible that in a desolate, uninhabitable place like the edge of Freedom Town, I might find the tattered remains of some horrible nightmare trying to pull itself up my leg to take a bite out of me. I felt a surge of anger rush through me as I thought of Sam again.

You didn't have a choice, I thought, but it felt like a cop-out. Knowing now that there was a cure, that Sam might have been able to turn back into a little boy, only made my throbbing sense of guilt worse.

You promised him you'd come back for him one day, I thought. What if he is still up there in that neighborhood where you first found him, locked in a house waiting? What if he can still be saved?

A dry gust of wind came from the east carrying with it the hint of rattling cans and hushed voices, like the distant dull roar of the ocean. I turned and looked in the direction of the rail yard and drew out my sword, ready for action. If the Alphas were spoiling for a fight, they were in for a surprise. I was in the mood to go to war!

Chapter Five

My heart beat fast as I wound around the north perimeter of the Freedom Town fence. I kept my eyes peeled toward the top of the rail yard looking for signs of bikes or scavengers who could pick the metal clean from the lines. One too many spikes missing could cause a catastrophe that would not only cost us lives, but also cripple our town. Without supplies, we wouldn't last long out in these extreme conditions. Our little desert flower would wither and die faster than a bouquet of roses left in a hot car with the windows up on a blistering summer's day.

In an effort to bring back some sense of order and normalcy, the military had scavenged rail and set up connecting lines from the base to the northern entrance of Freedom Town. There was already a functioning line that led down toward Los Angeles from Edwards. It then rode the baseline of the mountains up and past Pasadena, then cut through the uninhabited areas behind Simi and Moorpark, and went straight out toward Ventura. Before it ever reached Paradise City, the conductor would bring it to a halt and one of the soldiers would connect them toward Hueneme. It was how Felicity and I had gotten out to Freedom Town in the first place, and how supplies were kept moving out to the desert even with us being cut off from major centers like Barstow and Victorville. According to what the General told me, the hope was that when the time came to reclaim the main streets of Barstow, a city famous for it's magnificent, crisscrossing railroad lines, we'd already have a running line ready to go.

“Z Day may have knocked us back a little,” General Helmer had confided to me one night, “but not to the Stone Age some people think. Maybe back to the Wild West. Gunslingers and steam engines. Thing is, we know how to create electricity, we know how to purify water, we know about medicine, we know so much. Did we get set back by all of this? Sure. No doubt about it. But we can rise again, much faster than our ancestors could. As long as men and women still possess that fire in their bellies to create a better future for themselves, the light of humanity will never burn out.”

It all sounded great, that high and noble fancy talk, but it also meant that we were bringing danger closer to us as well. It meant someone had to constantly patrol the area and protect the rail lines from Alphas, zoms, and above all else…bored kids. Just like any other town, Freedom had its own gang of delinquents who seemed to thrive on causing trouble. Those reprobates were my least favorite part of the job.

Who'd have thought I'd get so sick and tired of kids that were close to my own age? I remember when I used to sit up all night dreaming about being a normal kid again. Now it's all I can do to hide my resentment of these spoiled children who had no real responsibilities, and all the time in the world to cause trouble.

I spotted a flash of brown hair down by the tracks at the same time I heard a young girl giggle. Stepping forward away from the fence my foot caught loose dirt, slipping into a soft hole. Immediately I lost my balance and toppled forward. My sword clattered as I lurched forward, while I fought back the string of swear words forming on the tip of my tongue. My ankle screamed, but it wasn't broken. It was just a little sore from having my weight momentarily placed the wrong way on it. I heard the voices in the distance, still laughing and chattering, oblivious to my presence.

“Man, I hate those kids,” I mumbled to myself, rubbing my ankle and checking it for a sprain. I looked over to see a mangy piece of carpet by the side of the fence, along with a loose plywood board. “Those little jerks are going to get someone else killed.”

Freedom Town had its fair share of teens. When I was back on the base at Vandenberg, I had to find ways to keep myself occupied. All the kids did. In Freedom Town though, things were different. There was always something that needed to be done. Kids as small as seven or eight could help by holding equipment, fetching supplies, bringing food and water to workers, collecting scrap, or simply being one of the lookouts.

Most days they had school in the mornings, and homework to finish at night. As members of Freedom Town they also had chores to complete. Part of the charter described the need for radical self-reliance and sustainability. The plain version of this translated into a grueling list of daily chores and grunt work. All the unpleasant tasks like sanitation and food preparation and perimeter sweeps were split up between all the residents. The kids were not exempt – not even small children.

Despite all of this, the Freedom Town teens still found ways to screw around and cause trouble. They dug holes under the perimeter fence, then covered them up with old scraps of carpet and sprinkled dirt over the top. In addition to being a major security breach these “Charlie Tunnels,” as they called them, were also a safety hazard. One of the smaller kids sent to inspect the fence line for breaks fell into one and broke her foot. She had to be sent to Edwards for medical attention. A meeting was called consisting mostly of community elders, along with teens hanging their heads down the entire time, eyes glued to their own shoelaces…but the digging continued. They were like determined convicts intent on escaping our prison paradise. Locals began calling them the Brat Pack, and the name stuck. The kids soon used it as a badge of honor.

Alcohol is forbidden by law in Freedom Town. If zombies were to come – or worse yet, Alphas – people needed to have their wits about them. Despite knowing this, several of the older residents set up a still the first week after I arrived and had been put in charge. They'd pilfer apples from the canteen and turn them into hard cider. After a while, a process was refined through which they began to turn corn into potent moonshine. They kept the spoils of those tiny souvenir Coke bottles, which they'd cork themselves and stash away, often meeting in secret at a place they called McKeel's Saloon, which moved from tent to tent without warning. The members of this supposedly secret society called themselves White Dogs or Freedom Town Racers, all references to the early days of running illegal moonshine. I knew about it, hell everyone did, but I never said a word.

“People need to have their secrets,” Moto had once said to me when I was back on the base at Hueneme. He'd been facing a similar situation. One of his subordinates had been found with some illegal contraband, a bottle of Sailor Jerry rum. Moto had refused to turn him in or take it away. I didn't understand why at the time. Having contraband was a direct violation of military law. Moto could even get in trouble if people found out he knew about it and word got back to his general.

“People need to feel like they can still have a little bit of their old lives,” Moto continued. “You take that away from them, you don't know what they've got left.”

It didn't take long before the Brat Packerz figured out how to pilfer a few bottles and squirrel them away. They'd sneak off-site through the Charlies and head up to the rail station to drink, boast, smoke cigarettes, and play Truth or Dare. There was even an abandoned rail car they dubbed 'Look Out Mountain' where kids would mess around and make out.

Cans of spray paint had been shipped from Hueneme to Edwards, and eventually sent over to Freedom Town. There were stacks of every color of Krylon you could ever imagine, even gold and copper. The idea was that eventually Freedom Town residents would be enlisted to head over to Silver Lakes and Helendale, and go door to door through the beautiful suburban homes to scavenge for supplies and useful materials. The military was supposed to make one quick sweep of the area, then set us loose. We would then move through and pick the neighborhood apart, one house at a time. When we'd finished, we would then spray the sides of the house with color-coded symbols to indicate what we had found and that the residence had been cleared. The idea came from how government contractors handled the cleanup of ruined homes in New Orleans after hurricane Katrina.

Instead, the cans were just stacked in one of the supply outposts and covered with a tarp. It didn't take long for the Brat Packerz to stumble onto them. Soon there was nearly a third less spray paint cans, and the rail yard had come alive with vivid art. It appeared that one or more of the Brat Packerz were actually talented graffiti artists.

The old me would be impressed instead of wanting to find and punish them, I thought, as a heaviness seeped into me. Things had changed so much in such a short time. Would they always be like this now? Would I be crushed under the weight of angry strangers expecting me to perform the small miracle of erecting a functioning town in the middle of a dry lonely desert?

I reached the edge of the clearing and hid behind a patch of weeds and the rusted out body of an old abandoned Buick. I could see several teens laughing and filling in the blanks of a six-foot-tall mural that read, appropriately enough, Pack Rulez. The leader was sixteen-year-old Scott Kastanian, which wasn't shocking. He'd been a constant source of friction for me since I had taken over at Freedom Town. He was as big a fan of Felicity Jane as I had been before meeting and becoming involved with her, and this only seemed to worsen his hatred for me. He questioned everything I did, spread rumors about me in the camp, coughed loudly whenever I spoke at council, and generally got under my skin every chance he got. I was also fairly sure he'd been behind my nickname, Sour Grapes. It had started off by some of the kids calling me Alexander the Great, then over time it changed as each kid threw in their own take on it. Alexander the Great became Alexander the Grape, then Grape Ape, and finally just Sour Grapes.

Kids and their ridiculous nicknames, I fumed as I watched Scott laugh and tell stories while sipping from a Coke bottle. It was one of the hardest parts of being in charge, not being able to really be one of them anymore. I was now married, the old guy, the boss man, the jerk. I thought about Benji and wished he were here with me.

He'd set them straight for sure, I thought. I wouldn't mind having someone in my corner, someone to spread some good rumors about me, maybe talk about how I took on a zombie horde once and even outsmarted Nazi bikers.

Standing next to Scott was his best friend and partner in crime, Tyler Finch. There were also several young girls watching as they worked on filling in their artwork. The girls ranged in age between eleven-year-old Penelope Campbell to sixteen-year-old Janice Johnson. I was surprised to see her out in harms way after what had happened to her sister that same morning. She had on makeup she'd no doubt pilfered from other women in the camp, a tight clinging tube top, and a jeans miniskirt. She took a huge swig off a bottle of homemade hooch before lighting up a cigarette.

A flash of anger stirred within me, but I worked to contain it. They were sitting ducks out here, drawing attention to themselves, and to the rail yard. They were breaking all the rules and tempting fate. I didn't know which made me angrier. That's when I heard a small whisper in the back of my mind that froze me dead in my tracks.

You're only angry because they have something you want. They are young and free and able to make mistakes. You never got to be a kid, to break the rules, to test the limits. Maybe that's why you are failing at leading this town, failing at your marriage, and failing as a soldier.

“Hey,” I yelled, moving quickly from out of my hiding space. All eyes turned to me. Tyler's mouth fell open in complete surprise. It was clear they had not known I would be pulling the watch duty, and had not expected me to be there. Perhaps in the past Andrew had turned a blind eye to this kind of behavior, but he was no longer here.

Probably because he was so relaxed about the rules, I thought. Well, not me. I'm going to teach them a lesson, but first I'm going to screw with them a bit.

The girls were frozen in place, unable to get up or move, as I confidently strode forward to their ring leader. Scott just sneered at me in disgust, a rebellious glint in his eyes.

“Gorillas in the midst,” he called out in a singsong voice. I wanted to hit him so hard that he came off his feet, but I fought back the urge. Instead I walked up and took the can from Tyler's hand.

“Do you mind?” I asked. Tyler didn't say anything. I turned and looked back at Scott, who simply smiled, daring me to do something, egging me on to punish him in front of the rest of his gang. I turned and looked at the young girls. All but Janice looked down at their feet to avoid my gaze.

“Have you been drinking?” I asked, still holding the can up.

“So what if we have,” Scott demanded. “What are you gonna do about it, Sour Grapes?”

“Looks like you missed a spot,” I said, turning and shaking the can. I stepped forward toward the wall and began filling in a section of blue.

I glanced back to see Scott looking from me to the girls in utter confusion. Clearly I'd blown his mind and he didn't know how to react. It was exactly what I had been going for. I did my best to fight back a smile as I saw Janice gaze up at me with a look of admiration and infatuation. Scott saw it too and quickly began to seethe, balling his fists up impotently as his face grew red. It was no secret around camp that he was working hard to make Janice his official girlfriend and that she had done a fair job of holding out, despite being one of the Brat Packerz.

“You can't do that,” Scott protested, his face now turning puce with rage.

“Why not?” I smiled back at him, holding the can out, daring him to take it.

“Because you're the law,” Scott sputtered, his eyes wide with disbelief. “You can't make up rules, then just break them for no good reason!”

Janice giggled as she took another drag on her cigarette. I turned and winked playfully at her. I hate to admit it, but I was enjoying the attention, especially after the way things had ended with Felicity earlier.

“Do you have another cigarette?” I turned to Janice and started in her direction, but Scott puffed up his chest and stepped between us. Janice looked shocked by his openly aggressive move.

“You don't smoke!” Scott protested.

“I know,” I said casually, “but I was thinking about starting. You all make it look so fun.”

Tyler laughed loudly, then caught himself when Scott gave him a death stare.

“You can take a hit off mine if you like,” Janice said, locking her eyes on mine as she extended her hand. Scott looked green with jealousy, but couldn't think of what to say to stop me.

“Thanks,” I said, taking the cigarette from her hand. She let her fingers slide gently over mine as I took the smoldering stick from her petite hands. Her eyes never broke our stare and one of the other girls, Penelope, I think, let out a low whistle.

What are you doing? You are flirting with her in front of all these people. You are married to Felicity! The tiny voice inside me screamed over and over, sending waves of acidic guilt pulsing through me. For some reason, it only urged me on to walk the fine line between right and wrong. It felt good to do the wrong thing, to break the rules just a little. After all, what was the harm? I wasn't going to hook up with Janice or anyone else. I was just enjoying a little harmless flirting at Scott's expense.

At last the moment became too much and Janice blushed and looked down, the hint of a smile parting her pretty painted lips. I let out a dry laugh, dropping the cigarette to the ground and crushing it with my boot.

“Sorry,” I said. “Smoking is bad for you. Haven't you heard? It will kill you.”

Suddenly there was a low moan from behind all of us, breaking the spell. The first zombie appeared from behind Look Out Mountain, emerging in tattered rags from behind the rail cars. He was in his mid-thirties, wearing shredded business clothes. His hair was matted with dust and debris. His eyes were the glossy black of a predator. His mouth, caked with fresh blood, was open and hungry.

I pulled up my sword, ready for action, as Scott and Tyler retreated in fear behind me. If this was the jerk that had gotten Andrew, I didn't plan on giving him the satisfaction of taking more people down with him.

“Get back to the Charlies,” I yelled, not bothering to turn and address them. I didn't want to take my eyes off the biter in front of me.

“We can't!” Scott yelled, his voice now high and terrified. “We're cut off!”

I turned and saw the kids were now huddled together in fear. Off in the distance were several adult-sized zombies heading down toward us, blocking the path back to the walls of Freedom Town.

Where did they come from so quickly, I wondered? I should have seen them during my first sweep.

I twisted my sore ankle back and forth in an attempt to get it loosened up. I was working on a plan. If I took out the guy in front of me, it would buy us some time.

Maybe we can barricade ourselves into one of the inoperable cars, I thought.

A gut-wrenching scream, like something from a wounded animal, ripped through the night. I turned quickly to see the undead businessman howling like a coyote at the moon, most likely in anticipation of the feast he was about to receive. Several more zombies came at the sound of his wild cry, ghastly shadows slowly lumbering in waves out of the darkness. I heard crying behind me, and smelled the sudden sharp odor of urine. I turned to see Scott had wet his pants in fear.

“Don't worry,” I said confidently. “I will get you out of this. All of you.”

“I'm so sorry,” Janice said, looking up at me with her big eyes.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Not now. Just keep it together. Panic and fear will only get you killed. Stay close to me, and whatever you do don't let them bite you.”

I felt terrible about the situation we were all in. I had only intended on scaring them a little bit, maybe making them see me as cool. Instead, I had crossed the line. They didn't need more friends; they needed a leader to keep them safe from harm. It wasn't my job to be cool, to use other people to make myself feel better. It was my duty to keep them out of harm's way, and I had failed. I had blown it trying to get them to like me. I wasn't going to be cool to them ever, I realized, because I was the one in charge. They were kids, just like I had been before Z Day happened. They needed something to rebel against. They also needed rules and structure in their lives, especially if they were going to live long enough to realize what we were trying to do for them.

Way to go, hot shot, I chided myself. Worst leader of all time. Epic fail!

Now it looked like there was a pretty good chance we were all going to die horrible deaths at the cold biting mouths of monsters.

I'm not going to let that happen!

I yelled out a war cry at the top of my lungs and raced forward with my sword held high, reflecting the light of the full moon. The last thing I saw as I ran was a man smiling in the darkness.

Chapter Six

His hands held chains that extended out to the necks of the zombies, like pets he was taking out for a stroll. His clothes were dark and his face was covered in thick, dried mud. He was perfectly camouflaged to blend into the night. I saw now that the zombie that had howled so uncharacteristically was, in fact, being held back by this man. It was this restraint that had caused him to wail in anguish, nothing more.

It's a trap, I thought, even though I knew it was too late to do anything about it. My feet were moving faster than my mind. I was already committed and couldn't stop.

The man smiled a wicked grin full of yellow and brown teeth.

“Now!”

Two other men with large nets came out of the shadows on either side of him. They rushed toward me with a simple ease that belied the danger of a katana-wielding warrior coming to cut them down.

Alphas, I thought, as I saw the first net thrown up in the air directly in front of where I was running. They've brought their pet zombies to ensnare us.

Before I could change course, or even slow down, the nets were coming down on me hard, knocking me to the ground. They were so heavy they felt like they were woven out of iron chains. The force of my fall knocked my blade out of my hands. Once more it clattered to the ground, making me wince almost as much as the sensation of the heavy webbing pinning me down, vulnerable and helpless. I could see from my new vantage point that the mesh was made out of rope with cords of metal twine running through it. Even if I could reach my blade, cutting through would be impossible.

I cursed and brought my knees up in an attempt to stand and free myself, but it was no use. The Alphas were on the nets, pulling them tight and forcing me flat, my head turned up to the moonlit sky. The stranger chuckled to himself as he walked over the top of the nets toward me. He held a cane in his hands, but he didn't use it to help him walk. Even though I was rendered immobile, I still thrashed about like a dolphin unsuspectingly caught in a fisherman's haul. My fingers scrabbled for the tip of my katana handle, but it was just out of reach.

If I could just reach my blade, maybe I could fight back!

“You a big fist ems uh? Lotta smack tough.” The stranger spoke in a strange pidgin with a thick accent I couldn't quite make out. It sounded like something from another time, some backwoods homeschooled language made up of mostly invented words and phrases. His face screwed up in mock laughter at my plight. “Look ah one dem big pop pop man mah no lookee tuftyup now, is ya? Him ah swim outta gumby river, flip flop, flip flop.”

I heard a scuffle to my right, and turned my head toward the Brat Packerz still frozen in fear. The zombies between the kids and the fence were not on leashes. They steadily advanced on the huddled ball of terrified kids. Without warning, Tyler Finch broke free from the rest of his gang and bolted toward the biters. Penelope wailed out for him to stop, but he sprinted fast over the loose soil, like a wiry jackrabbit fleeing a pack of bloodthirsty predators.

Guess that's not too far off right now, a little voice in the back of my head reminded me.

No one spoke. We just watched in amazement as Tyler slipped between several full-grown adult zombies, ducking the arms of the first one and sidestepping the biting mouth of another. My heart skipped a beat as he dove headfirst through the legs of the last zombie, coming up quickly on the other side of the pack and bolting for the fence. Within seconds he had sprinted the distance and vanished into the Charlie tunnel.

“Good on em,” the stranger cackled at me. “Dada lucky chikaduck true.”

Bolstered by Tyler's brave escape, Penelope made a break after him. No one said a word as she ran headlong toward the pack of biters. I held my breath, fearing for the worst.

“Whoop,” the stranger barked. “Dem a gone nutta won. Flip flop! Pip pop!”

Penelope didn't have the speed, dexterity, or wits that her boyfriend possessed. Just as she came up to the front of the pack they fanned out ensuring she wouldn't be able to run through them with the grace of a gazelle that Tyler had displayed. Penelope backtracked slightly, then looped to the left of the monstrous killers, but her foot caught a patch of loose dirt and she went down. They were on her in seconds, biting and growling. Her high-pitched screams echoed through the night, like a wailing siren for the longest thirty seconds of my life, before abruptly coming to a halt. From my experience, that generally meant the zombies had chewed through her throat. My only hope now was that someone had heard the screams, that Tyler had been able to get help. Still it would take a while for my men to clear the gates and meet the threat head-on. I turned my face back to the stranger, and he seemed to be reading my thoughts.

“Less go now,” he sang out to his men. “Wrap up em li’l uns while I send papa fish go sleepabye.”

The stranger brought his cane up into the moonlight giving me my first clear look. From where I was pinned down I could see it was made of hardwood, carved into the shape of concentric skulls, one on top of the next. It had feathers and bones tied to it with leather straps. The top of the ornate walking stick held a large silver smiling skull piece with dark cracks running through it. I guessed it was more significant than practical, maybe denoting that he was an Alpha tribal chieftain. The stranger flipped the cane around in his hands, holding it like a baseball bat.

“No mo cry now flip flop. Sleepabye POP!”

He brought down the metal top of the cane onto my head in a sudden swing. I was powerless to do anything under the heavy web. I felt a burst of sharp pain, and something liquid trickling down my face, then everything went black.

When I came to, I was in the back of some kind of trailer with a canvas tarp covering it – tightly gagged and bound. I craned my head around to see Scott, Janice, and the rest of the Brat Packerz were all with me, all tied up as well. I could hear the sound of a loud motor, and just barely underneath that the whimpering of the scared kids.

How did they get so close to our camp with bikes, I wondered? They must have parked them nearby and then crept up on us. Otherwise we would have heard them for sure.

It didn't matter much now. I was a prisoner of probably the most feared group of savages and cannibals in all of California. It didn't take a genius to figure out this probably wasn't going to end well for any of us. I thought about Felicity as we rode on for what seemed like forever. Would Tyler tell her what had happened to us? Would she be upset now or relieved? Suddenly, a wave of sadness and desperation crashed over me. I hated the thought that I might not see her again, and that we had fought the last day we were together. I hated the thought that it would be her last memory of me, angry and jealous and fighting and mean.

I've got to get out of here, I thought. I've got to save these kids and get them home and make things right again with Felicity.

My mind was resolved that I would find a way, no matter what it took. Just as I came to this conclusion, I felt the trailer slow to a roll as the sound of the motors unyielding roar abruptly cut off. This was my chance. Any minute now they would take us out to their camping area, maybe straight to their butcher’s tent. I had to break free right away before their entire tribe surrounded us, because then it would be too late to escape. I thought about the gruesome stories I had heard, but forced the thought from my mind.

My thoughts raced: Be ready to fight. Remember your training. Remember what Moto taught you.

The cover of the tarp folded back, and I heard the sound of bikes off in the distance. I saw the stranger looking down at us with his foul smile.

“Wakey wakey now,” he cooed. “Rise em up and wrap up dem fo da big house.”

His two accomplices reached in and lifted me by my bound wrists and feet. As I came out of the trailer bed I saw lights in the distance. I was surprised to see that we weren't in the desert in an Alpha camp after all. We were in a parking lot in front of what looked like an old fashioned casino. In the distance bikers rode in small swarms, making circles around roaring fires and hooting and spitting liquor into the flames to make it roar even higher. I felt the cold asphalt on my skin and knew it was my only shot to get free.

Now!

I thrashed around, trying to use my bound hands underneath me to help swing my legs forward and knock over my captors with a sweep. I barely tapped the back of their legs and they laughed. The stranger leaned down with a black piece of plastic in his hand. It was almost to my legs when he flicked the switch sending a jolt of electricity arcing across its shiny metal face. I tried to pull away from the Taser, but couldn't. A second later, fire shot through me as I was zapped over and over, on my legs, my butt, and finally an extra long burst right in my gut. The first few shocks were pretty bad, but the last one knocked the breath clean out of me. I panted and gasped, but it felt like I couldn't move air down my throat into my lungs. The pain sang out as it vibrated through my electrocuted muscles. At last I got a gulp of air. My eyes watered, and I managed a shallow pant like a wounded animal.

I was rolled over on my side, and then a metal pole was tied to my already numb hands and feet. Then I was lifted up like a prize hog on display before a barbeque. For good measure, the stranger leaned over and zapped me once more, this time in the jugular. Helplessly, I thrashed about while white light obscured my vision and my teeth locked shut in blinding pain. The pain was as magnificent as it was terrible. It had its own architecture, like a city built of anguish and suffering, with unimaginable peaks of pure, shrill agony. I thought for sure I would die from what was happening to me and then, without warning, it simply ceased. My body went limp, my mind slipping away too, and I felt a slight trickle of blood leak from my nose. I was too far gone to even care.

I slipped in and out of consciousness for a while, picking up only pieces of what was happening. As I came to, I was loosely jerked back and forth while being carried toward 'da big house' at the end of the parking lot. I remember seeing a man with a long black beard spitting alcohol at a patch of burning tires. I remember seeing men on bikes zoom past us, one of them nearly falling over as he leaned in to spank me, his friends crowing with laughter. I remember seeing the bright insides of the big house, and the golden tiled ceiling, and girls painted up like dolls. I stared at one of them as we came to a stop, not understanding where I was or what was happening. Her face held no expression at all.

I wonder how she hides her feelings so well, I thought from somewhere far away inside. That is a useful trick.

“You can't bring him in here,” a high female voice shrilly shrieked. “It's against Mistress's rules.”

“Yes um can boo boo,” the stranger said with a chuckle. “Anjoo no gonna stop me down so move ah da wey now.”

“It's all right,” another woman's voice called out from across the room. “Let them pass. We'll sort this out after they've had a chance to get situated.”

The doll woman in front of me stepped to the side. I opened my mouth to speak, but the sounds that came out didn't make any sense. I was thinking clearly, but somehow my mouth wasn't responding right. Then I felt another hard blow to the back of my head and I sank down into darkness, my mind desperately holding on to the stabbing shards of throbbing pain as I tried to remain conscious.

When I woke up, I was tightly chained to a large four cornered poster bed with a fresh strip of towel tied in my mouth. The doll girl sat next to me on the bed. She put her finger to her lips, signaling for me not to make noise, then took the gag out of my mouth.

“Don't get me in trouble,” she pleaded. “Don't make me regret offering to look after you.”

I licked my dry lips and attempted to speak.

“Thank you,” I said in a raspy whisper. “Where am I?”

“You are nowhere now,” she said, a sad look crossing her face. “They call this place Hellfire. It was made after Z Day by outlaws and criminals, like their own mini version of Vegas without having to leave their backyard. It's in between Barstow and the Mojave, which makes it a perfect destination for Alphas to trade with Unity Gang and the Warriors.”

“I thought they only met at Alpha camps,” I said, my voice a hoarse whisper.

“Too many killings,” the doll girl said, shaking her head. “Bikers don't trust the tribes anymore. There were too many suspicious incidents out in the badlands. There is even talk of Alphas selling wanted Unity members to military spies.”

“Nonsense,” I said without thinking. She jerked her head to me and looked me up and down again, examining my uniform with her soft, petite hands.

“That's probably why they wanted you kept alive,” she said, the light of her new realization spreading across her face as she spoke. “You're one of them! I'll bet they think they can use you to barter.”

“Who does? The Alphas?”

“No,” she said softly, leaning in and looking around before whispering the rest of her reply. “Unity Gang.”

“They're here?” I thrashed anew at my bindings, but she put her finger to her lips.

“Please,” she said. “Don't get me in trouble with my Mistress.”

“Listen,” I said, stopping as I realized I still didn't know who she was. “What's your name?”

“Airi Tsuki,” she replied politely. “It's Japanese for sweet lover's moon. Mistress gave it to me.”

She seemed so docile, so pleasant, that it was hard to imagine how she had ended up in this place. It was almost as if she was a very convincing robot programmed to give pleasing responses.

“Listen Airi,” I continued, “I can't be here when the Unity Gang arrives. It's much worse being a military officer than you know. They're going to torture me to death, then probably feed me to the zombies.”

“I'm so sorry to hear that,” she said. “What can I do?”

“I need you to untie me first,” I said, holding out my hands.

“Sorry,” she said, looking genuinely concerned. “I can't do that. My Mistress would be very upset with me.”

“To hell with her feelings,” I shouted, calming down when I saw the look of fear in Airi's eyes. “Don't you understand? They're going to kill me!”

“I don't think so,” she said, sounding so old all of a sudden. “At least not at first anyway. After you were brought upstairs Mistress got really angry at the Alphas that brought you here. She said you were not to be damaged in any way or the bounty wouldn't be valid. She said you had to be in good enough condition for them to trade you as well, and that what happened between hand offs wasn't her problem, so long as you started out whole.”

“Trade me? Why on Earth would the Unity Gang want to trade me to somebody?”

My mind raced, wondering what kind of new network of nefarious connections could have grown like a virus in my absence from the coast. How far had Unity Gang come since hooking up with the Warriors? Were they now colluding with independent despots?

After Z Day not everyone went looking for help. Paramilitary communities made up of paranoid former soldiers, and some too crazy to be enlisted, sprang up in the middle of the chaos. These city nations refused to acknowledge the authority of the United States government and submit to military control. They were a thorny issue for us for sure. Attacking them would be bad for morale in just about every way, but sooner or later they'd have to be reclaimed, and depending on what had occurred inside their heavily guarded walls, judged for their transgressions. No general that I had met was even willing to discuss it. The unspoken policy seemed to be to simply ignore it for the time being, and let the next guy in line deal with it. There were plenty of other issues to take care of first. In the meantime these city nations operated with impunity, some with almost as much firepower as we had at our disposal. They made their own arrangements with outlaw bikers and gang members based on what was good for them, with no regard to military rule of law.

“She said a name,” Airi whispered, her eyes drifting up and to the left like she was trying to remember, “it's on the tip of my tongue.”

“A name? Good. That's good.” I leaned forward, but the restraints held me in place.

“I can't remember what it was.”

“Close your eyes,” I suggested. “Just let everything go blank in your mind. Let go.”

“Okay.”

“Now think about the first moment you saw me,” I coached her. “Can you see it in your mind?”

“Yes,” she said, sounding excited.

“Okay now let the scene just run in your mind,” I said. “What do you see?”

“I see the man hitting you on the head again.”

I felt a sting in the back of my skull at the words. I knew the dull headache I had was going to be with me for a while. After the blows I'd taken, I felt lucky not to have a concussion.”

“What next?”

“The men take you upstairs past my Mistress. She's mad. She's yelling in his face. Usually if Mistress is unhappy with someone they don't live long, at least around here. She looks really unhappy.”

“Please try to stay focused,” I urged her. “My life depends on it. The words. Think of the words. What is she saying?”

“ She's mad because Unity Gang is supposed to trade you for something they want but can't get, and if you're a brain-damaged vegetable they won't be able to do that. She yells that at him. Hey, this is amazing! I can't believe this is working. It's fun.”

Yeah, I thought, fighting back my anger at her indifferent attitude toward me being traded like livestock to people who clearly wished me harm. It's real fun. Let me know if you want to switch places.

“You said she mentioned a name. Think. What was the name you heard?”

“John,” she spat out without further hesitation.

“John? Are you sure about that?”

“Yes,” she said, smiling and opening her eyes wide. “I remember now. It was John from Lompoc. That's who Unity Gang is going to trade you to, but they never said what they would be getting.”

I felt a deep sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach at the words. So John wanted to get his revenge for what I'd done to Tank.

Hell, I thought, he probably blames me for what went down with Bruiser as well, but that's not my fault either. If anything, that's on the Parker twins.

John ran a paramilitary town, not unlike other new towns outside military control, up in Lompoc. On my trip from Vandenberg to Hueneme I'd been picked up by him and his men while they were doing patrol sweeps. John had taken me in, given me a hot shower and a plate of bacon, and lavished praise on me – all in an effort to try to get me to stay and fight for his cause. He and his friends had worked tirelessly to reclaim the city from Unity Gang and keep them at bay in a never-ending struggle that often boiled over, costing lives and resources. John was a charismatic leader, always quick with a speech for any occasion. He didn't appreciate me refusing to sign up to be his right hand man, and neither did his second-in-command – a muscle bound monster and self-confessed white supremacist named Tank. Using his gorgeous daughter, Tammy, to deliver a false message of hope, Tank had tricked me into a trap, then nearly strangled me to death. I'd managed to escape, along with Benji, but in the end John had abandoned his men to a zombie horde, losing Tank in the process while we'd slipped out of his grasp.

“Is that bad?” Airi prodded, looking freshly concerned by my reaction to giving me John’s name.

“Yeah,” I managed. “That's bad.”

The thought of going back to New Lompoc and being traded to John filled me with dread. If he wanted me bad enough to give something to his sworn enemies in exchange for me, then that meant he had plans for what he'd be doing with me once I arrived. Unity Gang was going to giftwrap me and leave me under the tree, if the Alphas didn't maim or kill me before the handoff.

“I'm sorry.”

“Airi, I know what I'm going to ask you is crazy,” I started, watching the expression on her face go from sad to distrustful, “but my life depends on it. I need you to untie me and let me go.”

“You don't understand,” she said, violently shaking her head from side to side. “I can't disobey. I'm the property of my Mistress.”

“What do you mean by property?”

“She owns me. I was sold by my father to her several years ago, and I've worked here ever since.”

“What do they make you do?” I felt a burning coal of anger rise up in me at the thought of this kind girl being exploited.

“Mostly entertain the guests,” she said. “I am here to fulfill any desire my Mistress may have of me. Tonight she's given me the duty of watching over you for our new visitors. She gave me explicit instructions not to untie you, as a matter of fact. She said you were very valuable and would be worth your weight in gold. But then I saw how you were choking on your gag and I wanted to help you breathe. Maybe I should put it back in now?”

Airi stood up and leaned toward me.

“Wait,” I pleaded, making the biggest puppy dog eyes I could up at her. It worked, because she then froze in place and sighed, clearly disappointed in herself. “Untie me and I will take you with me. I promise. I can get you someplace safe, not too far from here, someplace you can start over.”

“Why do I listen to you?” She said in a huff. “It doesn't matter if you are cute, you're still just a boy and soon you'll be gone like the rest of them. I must obey my Mistress or I will be whipped – or worse, sold to a pack of Alphas.”

“You can trust me,” I urged, pleading with my eyes.

Before she could answer there was a loud bang in the house from somewhere below us, and then the sound of a woman running and screaming.

“They're here,” Airi whispered. She froze like a statue, her lower lip trembling. I could hear some fresh commotion in the hallway, the sound of men yelling and crying out. It sounded like they were cursing a woman.

Maybe she's double-crossed them, I thought. Maybe the Mistress is going to try to sell me to a higher bidder. Hopefully they'll take each other out in all the fighting, like a Quentin Tarantino movie!

Someone tried the handle of the door, violently shaking it and pounding hard blows against the heavy wood, but Airi sat unflinching – her face etched in terror! She lunged across the small gap dividing us, and hastily stuffed the gag back into my mouth.

“No wait,” was all I managed to get out before she had it tied back around my head again. The door behind her began to splinter as someone using a long handled ax began to cut through it. Ariel screamed in fear as the sharp blade poked through. There was more screaming now as Alphas began running through the halls. Three loud gunshots boomed out from behind the door.

A small, gloved hand reached through the hole and unlocked the door, letting it swing open. I was ready for anything to step through that portal – zombies, Unity Gang members, Nazi's, – but I wasn't ready for what came next. A stunningly beautiful woman with long, strawberry blonde hair, tied in thick braids that swung around her as she moved, stepped into the room. She had an ax in one hand and a blunderbuss in the other. I recognized the strap around the front of her and knew before she turned around that she'd somehow managed to recover my katana.

Thank God for small miracles, I thought. I'd be so lost without it.

She was clad in a skintight suit made from hand-stitched sections of leather with armored pieces sewn in. The armor looked like it was made from lightweight metal strips painted matte black and set into double-sided fire hose. Her sleeves shimmered with a mist of flexible metal cording, something like chainmail, to prevent the biting teeth of the undead from finding purchase. She had thigh-high boots that bent with her curvy figure. They were covered with sharpened bolts and pins, facing out like porcupine quills. They were also dotted with patches of metal shards, made from what looked like shredded aluminum cans, making the idea of just accidentally bumping into her sound like an excruciatingly painful experience. Around her neck she wore a solid metal ring that attached to her front like a collar. A dark black mask concealed the top portion of her face with her piercing emerald eyes brilliantly sparkling through two slits.

“My name is Sonya,” she said, holding out her hand. “This is a rescue. Now get the hell up!”

Chapter Seven

“Well?” My green-eyed savior sounded impatient with me. “Don't just lie there. Get up and let's get moving!”

Can she not see that I'm tied up here? I felt like screaming…which gave me an idea. I yelled into my gag and rolled over, falling off the bed. Unable to right myself, I rolled toward her dangerous legs.

I may not be able to stand up, I thought, but I'm not going to give her any reason to leave me behind!

“Sweet heavens grant me patience,” she sputtered, realizing I was still unable to stand. In one movement she ripped the gag from my face and set to untying my bindings. Airi quivered in the corner, afraid to even look up at the woman warrior. Her dainty fingers trembled as she covered her eyes.

I gasped as the blood rushed back into my sore hands and feet. I tried to stand up, but my feet were asleep from loss of circulation, and I tumbled forward.

“We don't have much time,” she admonished me. “Any minute now word is going to reach the savages in the parking lot what we're up to, and then all hell is really going to break loose. Unity gang riders were already arriving. That's why I made my move to spring you early.”

She held her gloved hand out to me and I took it, fighting back tears as feeling flooded back into my extremities. I started toward the door.

“What are you doing?”

I turned to see her glaring at me in disbelief.

“Going out for a slice of pizza! What does it look like I'm doing? I'm making a break for it like you said.” I couldn't hold back the sarcasm in my voice.

“Listen cowboy,” she said, shifting her hips and crossing her arms. She was unbelievably beautiful, even with the derisive tone in her unflinching voice and her condescending glare fixed on me. “If you want to try to run through an entire pack of armed and dangerous Alphas, not to mention caterwauling courtesans trying to cat scratch your eyes out, be my guest. Hell, the Head Mistress will more than likely slice your throat open before you even reach the top of the stairs, that is if she ever comes to. I did hit her awfully hard.”

“You think you've got a better plan?” I could feel the anger bringing me back to life. I had a pounding headache from where I'd been hit. I just wanted to get out of Hellfire in one piece. The last thing I needed was a lecture. “Fine. Let's hear it.”

“Amateur,” she scoffed, pushing past me. I leaned away to avoid coming in contact with her insane metal pants. She walked to the window and carefully slid it open, being cautious not to give our escape route away.

“I'll take my blade back now,” I said. “I'm going to need it.”

She leaped to the ledge with the silent grace of a feline. She turned to me, her eyes shimmering as her curves came into stunning relief, a breathtaking silhouette against the soft, full moon.

“Not just yet,” she smiled. “I don't want you getting into any more trouble.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but before I could get a word out she had fallen out of sight. I rushed to the window placing both hands on the frame and leaning over to look down. It was a solid four-foot drop to the roof, which was dotted with humming air conditioning units that made a tremendous racket as they turned. Sonya smiled up at me from a three-point crouch.

“You coming or not?”

I looked back at Airi. Her big doll eyes were blank as they stared at me. Whatever had happened to her in this place had changed her forever. She was as pale as a ghost, and had a resigned expression on her powdered face.

This is her home now, I thought. It's all she knows. That's why she can't leave.

I couldn't take her with me, and even if I did she would just find her way back. Her “Mistress,” as she called her, was like a warped parent figure to her now. I turned away without a word, bracing myself and climbing up and out the window.

Don't draw attention to yourself, I chastened silently.

I lowered myself from the windowsill, trying not to land on my sore ankle. To my surprise, it worked. We raced to the edge of the roof and peered over. Just as she had predicted, it was total chaos outside. Bikers hooted and hollered back and forth, some running in circles and uselessly waving their arms. The more sober riders made a beeline for the front door, never bothering to look up. As they passed below, I couldn't help but think of my third grade trip to the zoo, how we sat above the fence line watching as a herd of wild monkeys flashed past us toward their trainer at feeding time.

“When I give you the word, I want you to jump down and roll forward,” Sonya instructed. “I will be right in front of you when you come back up to your feet. All you have to do is stay on my heels. Whatever happens, do not stop! Got it?”

My pride felt stung by the harshness of her words, worse than it ever had at a barbed taunt from a Brat Packer. Despite the fact that she'd found me bound and gagged, I was not a helpless victim. Far from it. I was a legend! People I'd never met had heard about me taking on a field of zombies for my friends, and making it out alive! Who was she to talk this way to me?

She raised her eyebrow at me as if to say, 'Are you going to answer?' It only made the fire smoldering inside of me burn brighter.

“I got it,” I spat, through gritted teeth.

“Good,” she answered, as she turned her head away from me. I could feel the blood flushing my cheeks as I silently fumed behind her back, my eyes fixed to my own katana.

I don't care how good-looking she is, I thought to myself. It doesn't give her the right to talk down to me.

Her feet shifted on the loose gravel, like she was grinding out a cigarette, as her body tensed. She raised her left arm as a signal to get ready to go. I felt a lump rising in my throat and did my best to swallow it back down. This was it. In mere seconds we'd be running for our very lives, trying to escape not one biker gang, but two! Any mistake at all would mean certain death.

You can do this, I told myself, gulping down a few quick breaths. Just clear your mind and do what she said. You'll be fine.

“Now,” she said in a fierce whisper, her arm slicing down like a guillotine.

I forced myself forward off the roof. It happened so fast I didn't have time to think about it. One moment I was standing up, jogging forward, my foot pushing off the railing, and the next I was floating in slow motion. The stream of angry bikers pouring into the Casino had slowed to a trickle. I had heard shouting at my back as I launched off the roof. That meant they were on to us. We'd have only moments to escape.

You can do this, I sternly reminded myself.

My legs came down in front of me, touching the hard asphalt. I willed them with all my might not to lock, urging them to bend slightly with my momentum, as I tumbled frontward into a somersault. I rolled forward, springing up to my feet.

It worked perfectly, I thought in triumph, just like she said it would.

A soft thud to my left caught my attention and I turned to see Sonya rising to her feet. She had my blade on her back and the blunderbuss tucked into the front of her pants.

I wish she would have brought the ax as well, I thought, but it would have definitely slowed us down.

“This way,” she yelled, turning and sprinting toward the far end of the parking lot past the bonfire. I didn't waste a second. It felt good to be outside, running in the cold. In less than a minute we were well clear of the entrance of the Casino. A new wave of shouting rang out in the distance just as we came across a row of motorcycles.

Sonya hopped on the first one, a big beast of a chopper with the keys still in it.

“Get on,” she commanded.

I slid behind her onto the seat without a word. There were angry voices now, coming from the direction of the bonfire. I had no doubts that one of them most likely belonged to the owner of the bike we were about to steal.

You're almost free, I thought, a thrill of excitement at our brazen escape pulsing through me like an electrical current.

I held on for dear life as she kicked-started the glossy black motorcycle. It came alive with a deafening roar that made my heart stop. Every eye in the parking lot turned as the sound of the bike blanketed them into shocked stupidity. This was our moment, that split second when you have the element of surprise on your side.

Sonya jerked the throttle hard, gunning the motorcycle forward in a violent lurch that pinned me against the back of the seat rest. We took off like a shot fired out of a cannon, ripping across the parking lot, as every biker in sight watched slack jawed with amazement. Sonya let out a loud whooping cry that echoed off into the night as we peeled out.

Show off, I thought.

She veered slightly to the left and brought us onto the highway, leaning into the turn with her body. My fingers dug into her sides as I did my best to cling to her. I knew we didn't have time to stop. We'd have just moments before the shock wore off and a pack of armed, wild bikers was hot on our tail.

There's still a chance we might not make it, I thought. If they overtake us on this road back to camp, no one will ever know what happened to me.

They were after us much faster than I expected. I could hear the rumble of their bikes as they came upon us. I turned to see several headlights moving back and forth in the dark. We hit a patch of fog and the lights danced like drunken jackals in the white mist. I heard a gunshot ring out behind us and I flinched, hugging myself tighter to Sonya while trying not to puncture my legs on her dangerous pants and boots. Several more shots rang out. I heard one of them whiz past my right ear, and I flinched.

We can't be far from Freedom Town now, I thought. We've got to make it. Hopefully by now, Tyler will have roused the troops and my men will have gone for backup to the base.

I hated to think about the other option, that they were too busy dealing with their current zombie mess to call for reinforcements. I couldn't live with the thought of bringing down a pack of wild bikers and Alphas on the unsuspecting residents of Freedom Town, on top of everything else that had happened tonight.

We shot through a small mountain pass that I knew was visible from Freedom Town, winding like a serpent past the walls of weather carved rocks. The sound of our engine echoed noisily against the walls. I heard it give a stutter like we were running low on gas and once again I felt my breath catch in my chest, along with a painful stitch at the thought of being caught.

“What's happening?” I shouted, but my voice was drowned out by the wind.

Behind us, I could hear the rumbling growing closer. There was a long howl of victory. I turned my head back to see that the first knot of riders had cleared the twisting mountain pass. They now had a direct line of sight on us. At this rate they would be able to gun us down in mere minutes.

Sonya shifted in her seat, shaking the bike slightly in the process. We were slowing down when we needed to be racing for our lives. I felt a nauseating sensation in my stomach as cold fear began to overwhelm me.

“Damn you!” Sonya cursed as she struggled with the fickle machine.

All at once the bike seemed to come back to life, loudly sputtering like a fat man clearing his throat after a big meal.

“Hold on now!”

Sonya leaned forward and I hugged into her body. I flinched in expectation, trying not to think about the fact that at any moment we could be cut down by a hail of bullets. She revved the throttle with her right hand, pulling her wrist down. Once more we shot forward, wind and bugs stinging my face. All I could hear was the rushing of the wind. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, like a kick drum on steroids.

Summoning all the courage I had left, I turned my head and looked back. The gang was still on us, but they were further back now, out of shooting range. I strained my eyes to look ahead. The lookout platforms of Freedom Town were clearly visible now.

If I can see them, I remembered, then they can see us too.

There were green blurs blocking the front of the camp. I forced my eyes wide open to take them in, feeling the cold winds harsh sting. My heart let out a cry of joy as I saw the rows of military vehicles guarding the main gate. I could hear the biker’s engines growing quieter as they dropped back at the sight. Sonya didn't let off the throttle one second. We barreled head first toward a firing line, and I'd never felt happier in my life.

“We're gonna make it,” I cried out, my words vanishing in the rushing wind.

The soldiers protecting the front of Freedom Town all trained their guns on us, triggers at the ready. I could see them waiting for the order to open fire on us.

They don't know we're not the enemy, I thought, a shock of realization dawning over me. They're getting ready to open fire.

I raised my arms over my head and began waving them back and forth, hoping it would help identify us as friendly. A booming voice came over a loudspeaker from one of the trucks.

“This is the Unified Armed Forces Alliance,” the sound reached us in ripples. “You are now entering restricted space. Stop or we'll be forced to engage.”

It's too late to stop, I thought darkly. How ironic is it that after everything I've been through in the last twenty-four hours, I'm going to die – not at the hands of bikers or cannibals – but by my own people in front of the town I was assigned to protect.

“This is your final warning,” the voice ominously droned.

Sonya turned the bike at the last second, skidding to a stop mere feet away from the barricade and nearly laying the machine down in the process. Soldiers rushed out immediately and surrounded us from all sides. Three armed men pinned Sonya to the ground while she did her best to cooperate. A pimply-faced kid with an AR-15 ran up and shoved the barrel of his gun almost into my open mouth.

“Get on the ground,” he shouted.

I raised my hands up defensively.

“Okay,” I said, frustrated. “It's okay, we're with you.”

“Do it now!” His finger twitched on the trigger and a bead of nervous sweat glistened on his pockmarked forehead.

“Listen, I'm the officer in charge of Freedom Town and…”

Another soldier leaped forward and slammed the side of my head with his rifle, connecting in nearly the same place the Alpha Chieftain had hit, sending ripples of pain through me as I fell to the hard ground, involuntarily wincing.

“What's wrong with you? Are you deaf, or just stupid?” I rocked back and forth holding my head, waiting for the howling pain to recede.

I saw a pair of shiny boots walking quickly up to me from behind the barricade. They belonged to a well-dressed officer with a stern demeanor who stopped directly in front of me. Placing his hands on his knees, he leaned down to address me.

“Xander Macnamara?”

“Yeah,” I said, looking up at his apathetic face.

“You are under arrest.”

Chapter Eight

What is happening, I wondered, in total shock. Arrest? What could I have possibly done to be under arrest? I'd just had the single worst night of my life since Z Day, and it didn't look like there was any end in sight to the nightmare.

“Arrest?” I shouted at him, spit flying from my bloody lip.

“Get him up and cuff him,” the officer barked. His men immediately pulled me to my feet and began placing shackles with chains in between them around my wrists and ankles.

“Are you insane? You can't arrest me,” I shouted in defiance. “I'm Xander Macnamara!”

The officer froze in his tracks.

That got his attention, I thought with a smirk. I was panting like a wild animal, ready to tear him apart the minute they let go of me. The officer turned and walked slowly back to me, a bemused grin on his face.

“Macnamara is it?” His voice was light and playful, but something was off. He looked around from his men to me, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“That's right pal,” I barked. “And when the dust settles you're going to be singing a very different tune. I promise you that. Now let me go!”

“Xander, my name is Officer Batista,” he said. “I will be taking over here after you are gone, which shouldn't be long now. The train's furnace is already being fired up, as we speak.”

“You are making a big mistake if you think you can just come in here and take credit for all my hard work, buddy.”

I fixed the meanest stare I had at my disposal in his direction, and to my chagrin, he chuckled.

“Hard work? You mean like assaulting a civilian, a school teacher no less,” he locked eyes with mine.

His mouth is still smiling, I realized, but his eyes are not. He looks like he'd love nothing more than to be locked in a room with me, no witnesses, my hands tied behind my back so he could take his time beating me. What the hell did I ever do to this guy?

“From the report I read earlier this morning, it sounds like a simple case of jealousy at work,” he continued. “You thought he was making a play for your former celebrity wife, and you lost control. It's understandable enough. Jealousy is a tricky emotion to master. Many lesser men have fallen under its green spell and committed terrible crimes, thinking they were totally justified.”

I could feel my heart thumping in my chest as he spoke. I had definitely been out of line, but did that mean I was being stripped of command and court-martialed? Why were the higher-ups taking such an interest?

“You were wrong, however, in your assumptions,” he stifled a laugh with the back of his hand. “More wrong than you know. As the ranking officer in Freedom Town you have a responsibility to help these people, not terrorize them. Your military rank and martial arts experience, not to mention rule of law, dictate that you use discretion handling civilian disputes, meting out punishments and using force only when absolutely necessary. After all, if the people can't trust their own officers to protect them, if they have to live in fear that an officer might fly into a jealous rage at any moment and attack them, what separates us from Alphas and other outlaws?”

I felt my cheeks burning with shame and anger as he took his time verbally running me down. He was right, but he didn't understand. I couldn't believe that Jamie ran to the authorities over our little brawl.

He's such a big guy, I thought. What happened between us was little more than a tussle. What a jerk!

“So Jamie Friendly rats me out over a disagreement we had, and now I'm being stripped of command and sent back to Hueneme? Is that it?”

The officer didn't blink as he fixed a malicious glare at me. He wasn't smiling anymore.

“He's got a couple of broken ribs, but he'll live,” the officer replied. “He didn't want to give his report, but in light of the circumstances, he knew there was no other choice.”

What is he talking about? My mind raced as a heavy feeling descended over me, settling into the pit of my stomach. Had something else happened after the Alphas captured us? Had the town been sacked as well? My thoughts turned to Felicity, and once again I felt my mouth go dry.

“What circumstances?”

“I'm glad you asked,” he said, patting me on the head dismissively. One of the soldiers near me chuckled. I shook my head back and forth in anger, causing pain to ring through my skull. I winced, but didn't take my eyes off him.

“You see, Mister Big Shot Macnamara, in the past twenty-four hours, an infected soldier has managed to pass security and violate the sanctity of your camp. My understanding is that he was a friend of yours? Andrew?”

“Now you just hold on a second there,” I protested. “Andrew was a good man! You hear me? He made a terrible mistake. That's all. Just a week ago, he was one of the most popular guys in town.”

“A good man, but not a good soldier,” Officer Batista quickly countered. “He made a decision that cost the life of a young child on your watch. Do you deny that?”

“No,” I spat back in frustration.

“Good,” he replied. “Then we are making progress. After that you volunteered for his shift, and on your watch several more citizens of Freedom Town were kidnapped and killed. Teenagers, I understand.”

“We were attacked by Alphas,” I shouted in his face. “Didn't you see them chasing us? We barely escaped with our lives!”

“I think we all saw your friends giving you an escort back to camp,” Officer Batista replied. “If we hadn't been here you would have surely let them into camp as well, to loot and pillage and commit murder at will.”

Is he kidding? My mouth hung open in shock at his words. This can't be happening!

“Is that some kind of joke?”

“I assure you it is not.”

“I was kidnapped against my will,” I said between gritted teeth.

“Ah,” he replied, lacing his fingers together and arching his eyebrows as he rocked back and forth on his feet, as if he was enjoying a tall tale.

“They overpowered us by the train station,” I continued. “They had pet zombies and heavy netting. They clubbed us and carried us off to Hellfire. Ask Tyler Finch. He saw it all go down.”

“The young Mr. Finch is in a state of shock at the moment,” Batista replied. “Not surprising. He did watch his girlfriend get eaten alive, and his only friends in the world get rustled up and hauled off by cannibals. What we did manage to get out of him was that it all occurred shortly after you showed up. He said you were acting strange, trying to impress them and keep them out there while your pals showed up and began picking them off.”

“What?” I lunged for him, but the soldiers held me back. “That's insane! I had nothing to do with it. I was held hostage against my will. I was beaten and electrocuted. They were going to trade me to Unity Gang to sell me to Nazis who would have tortured me to death, then maybe come here afterward to see what all the fuss was about. The only reason I am alive right now is because Sonya rescued me. We made it here by the skin of our teeth!”

“Yes,” he said, leaning in until he was an inch from my face. “You managed to escape with the help of a known fugitive and outlaw, an assassin who performs murder for hire as well. And you brought her right back here with a pack of wild bikers at your heels. Interesting.”

I turned my head to look at Sonya. She was on her knees, an assault rifle jammed in her back. The look of seething hatred on her face could have burned a hole through the sun!

“Assassin? What are you talking about?”

“Hello, Sonya,” he said, smiling at her. “Nice to see you are still in one piece. My boss will be very happy to hear we've caught up with you. We won't be letting you escape justice this time.”

“Go to hell,” she said calmly, spitting on the asphalt.

“Too late,” he fired back. “We're already here.”

“Hold on now,” I said. “I didn't know she was wanted for a crime.”

“Crimes,” he corrected me.

My head was swimming. This was bad. How was I going to explain that none of this was my fault? That I was a victim of circumstances beyond my control? Things weren't looking good. I was beginning to realize that I was in deep water, way over my head.

“Curious how she knew right where you were going to be, don't you think?”

I gulped.

“This is all just a big mistake…,” I started, but he cut me off.

“You're right,” he said. “It's a mistake that I've been assigned to clean up, and I plan on doing exactly that. I take my command very seriously. Now, if you will please take Xander-the-Traitor and his little friend to the depot, we can get to work rolling up our sleeves and restoring order around here.”

The soldiers immediately began marching us forward.

“I want to be notified the minute the train has pulled out of the station,” he shouted after us. “Unlike the previous unit in charge, we run a tight outfit. I think all of the citizens will breathe a sigh of relief knowing that the whole ordeal is over with, and order has been restored. When they learn how close they came to being handed over to wild bikers and cannibal scum, they'll fall to their knees and praise me. Whipping things into shape after that should be a piece of cake.”

“You're going to regret this,” I shouted over my shoulder as they shoved me forward.

“Goodbye, Xander,” Batista shouted pleasantly. “Tell Hueneme that Freedom Town is in good hands at last.”

I fumed with anger as I walked on. I barely noticed the pain in the muscles of my arms and legs, biting with each step. My weariness from the exhausting night I'd had dissipated in the fresh heat of my rising anger.

The first thing I'm going to do when they clear this up is come back and knock that arrogant jerk right on his butt, I thought.

I turned my head to look at Sonya, but she didn't look back.

An assassin? An outlaw? How had she known where I was? What had she been planning to do with me? A million terrible thoughts raced through my mind. I felt totally betrayed and alone.

I gazed off to my left as we passed the walls of Freedom Town. The faces of the people I'd come to know stared back at me with little or no emotion. They looked like they’d lost all hope. I saw Stanley the Stone among them. A look of righteous anger was fixed on his face, but his eyes leaked a steady stream of tears.

He's lost everything now, I thought, remembering how in less than a day both his daughters had been taken away from him. I don't blame him for hating me. It's not my fault, but he doesn't know that. His anger may be all he has left now.

His eyes caught mine and seemed to burn brighter with pure hatred. Raw waves of guilt washed over me, making my breath catch in my throat. I wished I could go to him and tell him my side, wished I could beg him for forgiveness, but it was too late now. I looked down at my feet as we shuffled past. I could feel his stare burning a hole in the back of my head, long after we'd moved on.

My time will come, I thought, defiance kicking back in. I'll have my chance to tell my side of things, and then I'll come back and tell them all the truth.

I just hoped by then that it wouldn't be too little too late.

The sun was just starting to rise when they led me off in manacles to the side of a boxcar, separating me at last from Sonya. She was taken to her own car with no less than four armed guards. They weren't taking any chances of her escaping again. She looked up at me with an icy cold glare that sent shivers down my spine.

Can things get any worse?

Two soldiers lifted me up and put me in the train car. Inside, an armed guard stood watch over another shackled prisoner – Felicity Jane.

“What is my wife doing here?” I demanded. My arresting officer nodded to the guard who turned and punched me hard in the stomach. I doubled over in pain, falling to the straw covered floor of the train car and coughing up spit. Normally I wouldn't have been so sensitive, but between the blows to the head I'd received just hours before, and all the electric shocks, my body was feeling worn thin.

I rolled toward Felicity, taking in the look of betrayal and sadness in her eyes.

“You two behave now,” one of the soldiers said with a cruel laugh, signaling our guard again. He nodded back and closed the door. It was pitch dark for a moment, and then my eyes adjusted to the light streaming in through the wooden slits.

I heard the sound of the engine whistling as we began to move right away. I turned back to see Felicity staring at me, waiting for me to speak. I looked down at the floor once more, uncertain of where to start.

It's all my fault, I thought. If I hadn't lost my temper, we might not be in this situation. If things had just been different.

But they weren't. Moto used to say there is no point in thinking about the past, dredging up old memories and using them to feel sorry for yourself. All you could do, he said, was learn from your mistakes and promise not to do the same thing again.

I wasn't certain what I could learn from the last twenty-four hours just yet. After all so much had happened, and most of it had been completely out of my control. But when it came to Felicity and the way things had gone, I was positive I was at fault. If it hadn't been for me, she wouldn't be chained up in shame being led off to stand trial for things she knew nothing about. The guilt was like a spike stabbing right through me. I felt the weight of the world crashing down on me and I welcomed it, wishing it would take me to the bottom of the ocean, or anywhere really, so long as I didn't have to face that look on her face.

Can you blame her for hating you now?

I knew the answer before I even asked it. One thing was certain. It was going to be a long trip.

Chapter Nine

We rode in silence for a good while; the sound of the metal wheels clicking against the old rails, the jogging of the car, the heat, all lulling me to sleep. I fought the urge to pass out with everything in me. My thoughts tortured me, but I couldn't bring myself to speak first, not after everything that had happened. At last I heard the gentle snoring of our guard. I looked up to see his head tilted back. He was sitting with his back against the wall of the car, fast asleep. Felicity heard it too.

“Xander,” she said softly. I didn't answer. I couldn't. I was so miserable. I clenched my eyes tight, holding on to the feeling inside me of anger and hate and sadness.

“Xander,” she said again, louder this time to be sure I heard her. “What is happening?”

I shook my head.

“Xander, talk to me,” she said. “You owe me at least that much.”

“I don't know,” I said, giving in at last. I licked my dry lips as I stared at the floor. “That's the truth.”

“They are saying you are a traitor,” she said softly, “that you plotted with the enemy to hand over Freedom Town in exchange for some kind of reward. Is that true?”

“Does that sound true?” Incredulity shot through me at the words. I looked up and fixed a burning stare at her.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. She spoke to me like I was a child. “It doesn't, but you've been acting so strange lately. Tyler Finch said you were flirting with the girls at the train stop, the ones with the Brat Pack, before you lured them into an Alpha trap.”

“Tyler Finch has it all wrong,” I said with an angry chuckle. “I was trying to cut them a break. I caught him and Scott and their little friends spray painting the train yard and I decided to show them I could be cool, that I wasn't so unlike them. They were all drinking too. Did he mention that? Homemade corn liquor out of glass soda bottles.”

“No,” she said. “He conveniently forgot to mention that part.”

“I figured as much.”

“But why would he say you were part of it if you weren't? Why would he lie? I'm just trying to understand.”

“I don't have a clue,” I admitted. “I mean, I knew they didn't like me, but this is just too far-fetched to wrap my head around. Survivor’s guilt, maybe? I'm not sure. He took off and left us all there. He was the only one that got away.”

“So what really happened then?”

I shook my head again. I wasn't sure I was ready to tell the whole thing over again, but it looked like I didn't have much of a choice. Felicity obviously didn't believe everything they'd told her, but she also didn't sound like she trusted me.

“What's the difference?” I laughed. “Telling you won't change how things ended up. How long was it before they came for you after I was gone?”

“I was asleep when the commotion started,” Felicity recalled. “I'd been lying in bed tossing and turning, and finally drifted off when I heard the sirens. I came out wondering what was going on. The camp was in chaos. People were running around and yelling like we'd been invaded. I was really scared. I kept hoping I'd see you, but you weren't anywhere.”

I was in the back of a trailer knocked out cold, I thought.

“Go on,” I encouraged. She gave me a pensive look before continuing.

“Tyler was near the wall. He was pale as a sheet. Someone had wrapped a blanket around him. There was a circle of adults near him asking him questions. Gavin was there, but Stanley was pretty much the leader.”

Stanley the Stone, I thought. I'm surprised it wasn't Jamie Friendly.

“He kept asking Tyler what had happened, but Tyler was scared to talk,” Felicity explained. “So Stanley was kinda interpreting things, putting words in his mouth. He'd say, 'Is that how it happened?' and Tyler would nod. After a while a picture started to emerge, and it didn't look good.”

“Stanley blamed me for losing his daughters,” I offered.

“In a nutshell,” Felicity agreed. “The official version was that you had caught the Brat Packerz out past curfew, but instead of punishing them, you kept them there until the Alphas attacked. Tyler said you were making inappropriate comments to the girls, scaring them.”

She fixed her stare at me, as if she was waiting for me to deny it. I didn't waste a second.

“That's a lie,” I protested, feeling a lump rise in my throat. I thought about Janice's lips and the way she let her fingers glide over mine when I took her cigarette. She'd thought I was cute. There was something there, but so what? It was just harmless flirting, nothing more. It's not like I was going to take her to Lookout Mountain for a make out session or anything! And I sure as hell wasn't working with the enemy to lure kids into a trap! What had Tyler told her father about that moment? Was that part of why he blamed me? I drove the thought of her from my mind.

“Nothing like that ever happened. I swear!”

“Tyler said he looked up and saw zombies closing in on them,” she looked away to hide the pain in her eyes. “He said that Alphas came out of nowhere, that they spoke to you by name.”

“Another lie,” I insisted. She turned back to look at me again as she pushed on.

“He said he ran back to the wall thinking you were all behind him,” she expounded. “By the time he was under the Charlie hole, he heard the screaming. He climbed back to watch as the undead devoured his girlfriend, ripping her apart. He said by that point the rest of you were gone. He ran and got his dad. Within the hour there was a search party with armed soldiers searching the location, but there was no sign of Alphas or zombies, just the remains of the girl torn to shreds.”

“Penelope,” I recalled, remembering her cries as she slipped and went down.

“They sent word to the base at Edwards and less than an hour later the troops arrived,” Felicity replied. “They talked to Tyler and his dad, then Stanley, then Jamie.”

“Of course,” I said sarcastically. “I'm sure he had plenty to tell them.”

“He looked really scared when they came for him,” she said defensively. “I still don't know what your problem is with him.”

“I heard all about his little talk with them before I got shoved on this train,” I maintained. “He said more than enough to paint me as a psychopath who was out of control. He never mentioned his role in any of it either.”

“They questioned me next,” Felicity interjected, ignoring the subject of Jamie for a moment. “At first I didn't understand why they wanted to talk to me at all. I mean, I wasn't out there. What could I know?”

I knew where she was heading, and it made me sick.

“A man named Officer Batista came into our trailer,” she stated. “He told me to sit on the bed while his men searched the place from top to bottom. I don't know what they were looking for, but I don't think they found it. He kept asking me if I had ever mentioned meeting with any Alpha tribe leaders in the past.”

“Batista,” I hissed, spitting his name out like poison. “He couldn't wait to get rid of me. They put him in charge of Freedom Town, and now he's taking credit for all my hard work. Can you believe that?!”

I was furious just thinking about the way he had spoken to me.

“I told him that you would never betray the people at camp,” she confirmed. “I told him he was wrong, but then he started asking me how well I knew you, like he was going to convince me you were only pretending the whole time.”

“What else did he ask you?”

“He asked about Jamie,” she said after a pause, “about what happened between the two of you earlier in the day.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“Xander,” she said in a shaky voice, “I'm not sure I want to talk about this now.”

“Did you tell him that I caught you and your boyfriend hugging behind the school, or did you leave that part out?”

“My boyfriend? Are you still stuck on that? I told you there is nothing between us, that we are just friends. I don't understand why you are so obsessed with the idea of us dating. It's ridiculous.”

“Did you also tell him how you planned on leaving me for Jamie? You must not have done a good enough job convincing him, because you still ended up in here chained with me.”

“For your information, Jamie Friendly is gay,” Felicity shouted, anger blazing brightly in her indignant eyes.

“What did you just say?” I couldn't believe the words she'd just spoken. It was like being hit in the face with a bucket of cold water.

“You heard me, Alexander Macnamara,” she said, using my full name. “Jamie Friendly is gay. Oh my god! Is that what you thought was happening all this time? Is that why you were freaking out?”

“He can't be gay,” I protested.

“Why not?”

“Because he can't,” I cried out. “Okay? I would have known it. I would have seen it.”

I thought about all the times he'd hung around after I'd made announcements, about him never wearing a shirt and always smiling at me. It started to make sense.

Of course, I realized, feeling totally thick. He seemed off because he was flirting with me. He never had any intention of stealing my wife. How could I not see it? Jamie was so obviously gay!

“Well, I hate to break it to you,” Felicity said, her words dripping with sarcasm, “but it's true.”

“Wow,” I faltered, feeling like a complete idiot. “I see it now.”

“So you thought I was into Jamie?”

“Yeah, sorta,” I said sheepishly.

“That is so boneheaded of you,” she shot back. She sounded less angry, as if discovering that the true cause of my bizarre behavior had taken a lot of the wind out of her sails. “Why would you think that anyway?”

“I don't know,” I mumbled. “He's good-looking and famous, like you, plus you were always hanging around him and gossiping...”

“Like girls?” Felicity interrupted.

“Yeah,” I conceded.

What a moron I've been. All this time I've been acting like a crazy person, and for no good reason. I wouldn't be surprised if she hates me now.

“I just needed someone to talk to,” she admitted. “Jamie was safe for me. He was the only guy at that camp who didn't try to hit on me when you weren't around. It's not easy adjusting to my new life you know. I'm not used to having to work and be productive like a normal person. I'm used to sitting in my air conditioned trailer on set and sending my assistant out to fetch me Starbucks.”

I hadn't thought about what she was going through. I'd only focused on how I felt, what I was dealing with in running the camp, what was important to me. I had been a lousy husband. She'd found someone to talk to, a friend that she could trust, and I'd picked a fight with him and beaten him up.

“I'm so sorry, Felicity,” I choked. “I didn't realize.”

“It explains a lot,” she said softly. “Xander, I would never leave you in a million years. I love you. Do you understand that?”

“Even though I'm not from your world?”

“Yes,” she yelled, hoping the rising volume would make the words sink into my throbbing head. “A million times more because you're not from Hollywood. You're not some fake jerk trying to screw me over to climb higher up the ladder of fame.”

“I've been so stupid,” I confessed. I was so tired all of a sudden, so worn through that I wanted to fall to the center of the earth and sleep forever. “I'm sorry, Felicity. I really am. You have no idea. I'm going to make it up to you. I swear. Please, just tell me what to do and I will do it.”

“Thank you for apologizing,” she said, the anger leaving her face. “It means a lot to me. You're not the only one who makes mistakes.”

“I'm not used to feeling like this,” I said, almost pleading. “I know it's not an excuse, but I've never loved anyone before, not anyone I wasn't directly related to anyway. I couldn't stand the thought of losing you to someone else. It was like a poison that clouded everything I saw.”

“Baby listen,” Felicity cooed. “If we are going to make it as a married couple, you're going to need to get past these jealousy issues and learn to trust me. I know it can be scary, but you're just going to have to be honest with me. We're both going to have to work harder, that's all.”

“I promise I will,” I offered.

“Good,” she said with a laugh. “Because it looks like we're going to need each other now more than ever. This is a pretty big mess we're in.”

“You can say that again,” I chuckled. More than anything, I wished I could give her a hug and wrap my arms around her. “Don't worry. When we get to Hueneme and I explain what really happened to Moto, we'll be cleared. Although I'm not sure I wanna return to Freedom Town any time soon, not after all that's happened.”

“What did happen?” Felicity bit her lip.

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“Yes,” she whispered fiercely. “Remember what I just said about trust? This is part of it. I am your wife, Xander, and I have a right to know what's going on, so start talking.”

I sighed. She was right. I didn't feel like reliving all of it again, but she had a right to know. I started at catching the Brat Packerz at the train yard, carefully leaving out the flirting, and moved to the Alphas capturing me, and ending up in Hellfire. Felicity didn't say anything as I spoke. She just nodded to let me know she was taking it all in. When I got to the part about Batista, I could see her hatred for him burning in her eyes.

“And that brings us up to now,” I finished. “I swear that's exactly how it all happened, and that’s everything I know.”

“That place they took you,” Felicity said, her eyes darting back and forth.

“Hellfire,” I reminded her.

“What was it?”

“I'm not sure,” I said, feeling uneasy. I had an idea of what kind of place it was, but I couldn't bring myself to say it. “It looked like it might have been a gambling house at one point.”

“Then why did they have young girls? And why was the woman running it called the Mistress?”

“I can't say, Felicity,” I covered quickly. “I was taken there against my will, remember?”

“Why would they take you to a house of ill repute?”

“Are you serious right now?” I couldn't believe she was mad at me for being taken someplace bound and gagged, after being beaten and electrocuted.

“There's no need to get angry,” she said. “I'm just trying to understand, that’s all.”

“Maybe because they're bikers? Who knows why they do anything?”

“What do you think is going to happen to that girl, Airi?”

“I don't know,” I said, shaking my head. “Nothing, I hope. She didn't help me, that's for sure.”

“How can she live like that?”

I didn't say anything. The truth was I felt guilty leaving her behind, but it's not like I had a choice. Things were out of my control. They'd been out of my control for a while by then.

“So that's when Sonya rescued you?”

“Yeah,” I breathed, glad to be moving on. “She said Unity Gang was already in the parking lot. If she hadn't come at the exact time she did, I'd be on my way to New Lompoc right now instead of shackled in this train.”

“Okay, I need to ask you something,” Felicity said, trembling. “I want you to be honest with me. I promise I won't be mad unless I find out you're lying.”

“Go ahead,” but I feared that I knew what she was going ask. “I have nothing to hide, Felicity. I promise. I haven't done anything wrong.”

She waited for me to finish, biting her lip again before asking.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did she come to rescue you? I mean, how did she know you were there in the first place?”

The sinking feeling returned to my stomach. It was the thing I'd been wondering ever since Batista brought it up. It didn't make sense, unless she was planning on selling me to the highest bidder herself. Was my heroine actually nothing more than a lying assassin who'd poached me for herself? And if that was the case, to whom did she plan on selling me when we got away? If it wasn't true, how had she known I was there and why had she helped me?

“I don't know,” I admitted.

“I mean,” Felicity said, talking over me, “why would she risk her life to help you escape if you didn't know her?”

Shock hit me in the face again, as I realized what Felicity was asking.

She thinks you had something going on with Sonya! All this talk about jealousy and now she's acting jealous for no reason. It wasn't a good idea to push her when she was spoiling for a fight. I'd have better luck beating a hornet’s nest with a stick and not getting stung.

“What are you saying?”

“Did you know her? You can tell me, Xander. I won't be mad. I promise. I just want to know the truth.”

That's another lie, I thought. If Sonya had been my secret friend and I confessed it, I was certain that Felicity would have ripped my head off, even if I'd been innocent of any crime. I was relieved that I was telling the truth, that I didn't know her, but I still felt nervous that she wouldn't believe me.

“I swear on my life, Felicity,” I protested. “I'd never even heard of her before she came through that door with the ax last night. Honest Injun.”

“It's pretty bizarre that she just showed up like that,” Felicity said.

“I agree, but you gotta believe me,” I argued.

“So what was she doing there? Did she follow them? I'm just trying to wrap my head around it, that's all.”

“Maybe,” I said, glad we were moving on to other possibilities for Sonya's sudden appearance. “Batista said she was a fugitive and an assassin. They knew each other for sure. He said he wouldn't let her get away again.”

“Maybe he's right,” Felicity suggested. “She could be a bounty hunter. If there is a price on your head in New Lompoc, there might be one in Ojai as well. We didn't exactly leave on the best of terms with Bryan Crowe.”

I thought back to the religious compound in Ojai, to the magician-turned-prophet who had several underage wives and who sacrificed troublesome devotees to pits of zombies in the name of his God. I had no doubt he would love to make a show of feeding me to those dirty, undead mouths, all while extolling the virtues of God's wrath and restoring once and for all his status as their infallible savior. What wouldn't he be willing to trade for a victory like that? Guns? Gas? Maybe even people? I'd never realized just how vulnerable I truly was on my own. The weight of it hit me hard, the seriousness of my situation sinking down to the bone and giving me a chill.

“She could have been scoping out the place when they brought you in, and decided to steal you for her own.”

“I don't know,” I shook my head. I couldn't believe it. She'd saved me from what was certain to be an ugly and cruel death.  “She did save me from those animals. It's hard to believe she was just saving me so she could profit.”

“If you say so,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Maybe she had another reason for nearly getting killed charging into Hellfire to save you.”

That settles it. Felicity is definitely jealous of her! First, she's upset that she heard I was flirting with the Brat Packerz, and now over Sonya. I wanted to point out the hypocrisy of her telling me to get over my jealousy issues, then acting completely irrational about a chick I'd just met, but I thought better of it. This was a girl thing. I didn't always understand it when these moments happened, but I knew it was better not to mess with women when they got like this. Even when I was right I always ended up being wrong and paying a heavy price for it.

Then again, it's not like she violently assaulted Sonya the way you did Jamie, I thought, a guilty feeling twisting up in my tired guts. I was glad Felicity hadn't had a chance to try to fight Sonya. My wife was tough in her own way, but she didn't stand a chance against this trained killer. I thought about the two of them brawling and it stirred something in me again. Was I really happy to be getting this kind of attention? It was a side of me I wasn't used to seeing, and it scared me.

We rode in silence for a while and, without meaning to, I drifted off to sleep. I have a tendency to pass out after some pretty intense moments, so it wasn't all that surprising. It had been an insane night and I needed some time to process it all. What was I going to tell my brother, Moto, when I got back to the base? Would he listen to me, or would my explanations fall on deaf ears? I realized he might have to go hard on me because he's my brother and he wouldn’t want to show favoritism.

I woke to the sound of a high-pitched scream. Shaking my head as I regained myself, I realized it was the sound of metal train wheels locking on the rails as we skidded to a grinding halt.

“What's going on?”

“Shut up,” the guard said, now fully awake and holding his gun. “Don't make another sound until I tell you.”

Cautiously he placed his ear to the door, listening for signs of a commotion outside. A few long seconds dragged by. Eventually he grew frustrated and threw the door open.

“We're under attack,” a voice screamed outside the train. I saw a slimy hand covered in sores and gray rotting skin grab the guard by the ankle and drag him out. He cried out and shot a few rounds off as he fell. Felicity cringed as the weapon discharged, peppering the ceiling of the boxcar with holes. I heard the guard’s inhuman wails as he was devoured by hungry, undead fiends.

“What are we going to do?” Felicity looked more panicked than I'd ever seen her. We were trapped with nowhere to turn. Maybe if we weren't chained up we might have stood a chance trying to fight our way out.

“I'm not sure there is much we can do,” I said. “We'll just have to ride out the fighting and hope the soldiers regain control quickly.”

Just when it seemed like things couldn't get any worse, an adult zombie with half his face hanging off in shreds poked his head into the door and wailed at us in raw hunger.

Chapter Ten

The foul monster snapped its drooling, blood-covered mouth at us. Its slimy fingers clawed at the straw covered boxcar floor, looking for any way of dragging itself up to feast on us. Under normal circumstances I might not have been worried about a single biter, but these were far from normal circumstances. First of all, I was still shackled like a prisoner. It was going to be impossible to defend us with no way of freely moving my arms or legs. Even if I did manage to take down the first one, I would most certainly draw more attention to us. It sure sounded like there were more of them out there, a lot more.

Please tell me that Alphas didn't orchestrate this with a small horde, I shouted inside my head.

Clearly there was a lot more going on than I could wrap my head around. Outside I heard yelling and bursts of gunfire as the soldiers fought.

“Don't just sit there,” Felicity yelled. The sound of the gunshots peppering the side of the car we were in had lit a fire underneath her. She paced back and forth in her chains like a caged animal.

That's not that far from the truth, I thought to myself.

The snarling zombie at the entrance to our boxcar began making grunting noises. I turned from Felicity's anxious expression to see the living corpse pulling himself up into the car with us. His fingers had found the raised edge of the floorboards and dug in, using his thin arms to pull his torso up across the floor with a sick, scraping sound. He was already up by the time I came across the car at him, using my shoulder to knock him back against the wall. The blow did little to slow him down. I felt his sharp teeth snap near my right ear as I pulled back, the stench of his cold, foul breath filling me with the urge to puke. I stumbled back to get another running start at him, but as I did I turned my head, hoping for a glimpse that might explain what was going on outside.

All around the outside of the train I saw what looked like cattle. The animals cried out, as waves of hungry dead former humans bit and tore at their living flesh. There were soldiers out there too, uselessly firing off weapons as they attempted to drive the mob back. It was like a slaughterhouse. There were biters as far as the eye could see in every direction.

The cows attracted the horde, I silently surmised. That's what probably blocked the tracks causing us to stop.

Then the worst thing possible happened. I'd been hobbling back, the shackles preventing me from taking big steps. The heel of my boot caught on something and with no warning, and no way of stopping myself, I fell backward, landing flat on my shoulders and knocking the wind clean out of me.

The zombie didn't hesitate. A gurgling cry came out of his mouth as he crouched forward, bringing his head down toward my face. I raised my shackled hands to attempt to ward him off as he came down on top of me, his open mouth now inches from mine.

I heard Felicity screaming uselessly behind me, but I couldn't make out what she was saying. It took all the effort I had to hold the monster off of me as he thrashed wildly above, his teeth opening and closing like a hungry predator moving in for the kill. Using all the strength I had left in my body, I managed to bring my knees up to my chest and place both feet against his hips. He'd been a big guy before turning and, even though he was rotting muscle, he still weighed a considerable amount over two hundred pounds. I rolled back slightly onto my shoulders and kicked as hard as I could with both feet, shoving him off of me in one clean move. The zombie landed back on his feet ready to strike again, maybe this time with better luck. I knew I only had a second to come up with a plan to save us both, but my mind was blank. I felt totally fried by all that had happened to me.

Think of something fast! I screamed at myself, but it was no use.

I was running out of options. A wave of animal fear and adrenaline crashed over me, and I screamed at the top of my lungs as I saw the monster lumbering forward to finish me off like yesterdays leftovers.

“Come on you bastard! Show me what you've got!”

A gunshot rang out to the left of me and just like that the undead monster stopped dead in his tracks. Black blood and greenish yellow zombie brains covered the wall of the boxcar. It took me a moment to realize what had just happened. I looked in confusion at the bullet hole punched between the monsters now lifeless eyes as a trickle of filthy muck drooled out of it. He fell over with a thud. It was hard to believe that moments ago a ferocious monster from my worst nightmare was about to kill and eat me, and was now nothing more than a crumpled heap of decaying flesh and bone.

“Everyone okay in here?” a voice asked.

I turned in shock to see a cowboy from straight out of the Old West poking his head into the boxcar. He was riding a golden horse with a frothy cream mane and still had his six-shooter in his hand. On the front of his leather jacket was a gold star that read US Marshal.

“Can you get us out of here?” Felicity was practically shouting.

“How many of you are there?”

“Two,” Felicity said.

“Three,” I corrected her, and she shot me a look that felt like daggers. “We've got one more in the car behind us.”

“She's already out of harm's way,” the cowboy informed me. “Hop on and I’ll ride you out of this disaster.”

“We can't,” I exclaimed, holding up the chains to show him our situation. “There's no way we can get our legs around a horse with these shackles on.”

The last thing either of us needed was to fall off a moving horse, chained and bound, into the middle of a zombie horde.

Might as well ask them if we can join their undead horde, I smirked.

“I’ve got an idea,” he quickly said. “Hold still.”

He aimed his pistol at the chain between my legs and I froze in place. I wished he'd given me an idea of what he was about to do, so I could argue against it, but it happened so fast I didn't have time to make a sound. The cowboy’s gun rang out three times as he shot at the chain connecting my ankle manacles. My legs began to tremble uncontrollably out of fear. I looked down to see the first shot had missed, but the second two had done the trick, blasting clean through the metal.

I raced back to Felicity, helping her hobble forward to the front of the boxcar.

“Spread your feet now, little lady,” the rugged cowboy instructed. Felicity did as she was told, leaning against me for support and turning her head away. The gun rang out once. He'd hit the mark on his first try.

“It worked,” Felicity squealed in excitement, looking from him to me in surprise.

“No time to waste,” the cowboy admonished us. “Get on up here and be extra careful.”

I helped Felicity up onto the back of the beautiful horse, and she quickly slid to the back of the beast, settling high up on the majestic creature’s rump. Raising my foot high like a karate kick I brought it carefully up and over the middle of the horse’s back. I was off balance and needed help getting fully settled on the massive animal. Felicity took one of my hands and the cowboy took the other, both of them pulling until I was seated squarely behind our rescuer.

I turned my head around to take in the chaos. We were in a small valley between two small peaks. It was like a killing field filled with zombies, cows, and soldiers.

“Hiyah!” The Marshal shouted, giving his horse a gentle nudge with his spurred boot heels. The broad palomino mare responded by lurching forward, whinnying as she trampled over a small knot of undead monsters reaching out for her. Felicity pulled her legs up until she was sitting dead center on the hindquarters, riding on her knees. I kicked wildly with my feet, moving my legs like I was peddling a bicycle with a huge seat. I felt my boots brush past arms and hands, and in one instance connect directly with the face of one of the falling zombies. The loose chains around my ankles spun wildly hitting zombies, and once, an actual soldier. I didn't have time to apologize. I was clinging on for dear life.

Please God don't let them drag me off this horse by these hanging chains, I silently pleaded.

Within moments we were free from the train and moving up the hillside at a rapid pace, the scrub brush beneath us blurring like an impressionistic landscape. The dark golden skin of the mare rippled as her strong muscles dug in and brought us to the top of a small peak. The Marshal turned her around to look back at where we'd come from once we were out of harms way. A desert gust wafted past us making the palominos creamy white mane flutter like a victory flag. It all happened so fast I almost couldn't believe it.

“Anyone bitten or shot?”

I patted my torso, then searched my legs for signs of even a scratch, but I was unscathed. It was a small miracle. Just moments before, I'd had a zombie's biting teeth mere inches from taking me over again to their team. I turned to Felicity who shook her head no as well.

“I'm clear,” she said.

“Dear Lord,” the Marshal replied, turning his attention back to the fighting. “Would you look at that?”

It was a sea of suffering beneath us, worse than any Hieronymus Bosch vision of hell. The desperate soldiers were losing badly, as gruesome zombies driven by hunger pinned them between the cattle and the train cars and tore at the breathing flesh with rotting teeth. There were less sounds of gunfire now, as the numbers of the living drastically dwindled.

“We can't just sit here and do nothing,” a man's voice behind us said. I turned to see a pensive-looking man holding his horse by the reins. Sonya sat on the back, unshackled. She'd been stripped of all her armor and was now in a thin shirt and underwear. Her eyes blazed with righteous anger as she watched the melee.

“Hold steady, Thomas,” the Marshal cautioned.

“Come on, Hudson,” Thomas pleaded. “They're dying down there, man. We've got to do something.”

“We can't risk losing any of us,” Hudson replied.

“So we're just going to sit and watch them all die?”

“They'll figure something out,” Hudson shot back in frustration. “They're military. They always have a backup plan.”

As if on cue the engine let out a roar, and white steam billowed from the front. The wheels began to turn and the train slowly lurched forward again, pushing through the chaos. Soldiers lifted uninjured men back into cars and they fired at the tide of undead monsters, now mostly congregated around dying cows and men like a swarm of hungry ants.

“You see?” Hudson turned to slack-jawed Thomas, who unintentionally let go of his horse. Without warning Sonya slid forward and grabbed the reins, letting out a high-pitched yell and kicking the animal into motion. They shot forward in a jump down the hillside and back toward the train, her hair flowing behind her. No one said anything. We all just stared in shock, as she deliberately rode back into the chaos.

Is she crazy, I wondered? Does she want revenge that bad? Or could it be that she is trying to escape?

Sonya reached the bottom of the embankment and galloped around a flank of leering undead, before guiding her stolen mare up and over a pile of squirming biters with a high, graceful jump.

“What the hell is she doing?” Thomas looked more confused than angry as the words escaped him.

“Whatever she's up to, she sure can ride,” Hudson said with unabashed admiration.

From behind us I heard the thundering of hooves. I turned to see six painted Indians bearing down on us with a small pack of horses right behind them. The leader came forward to meet Hudson, and he smiled.

“See you got extra horses with you, Harry,” Hudson called out.

“Looks like we're not getting any new additions to our livestock today,” Harry said in a voice like a frog's croak. “Bummer, dude.”

“Got that right,” Hudson bitterly agreed. “An unexpected military train cut off the herd we'd tracked and caused quite a backup of biters. We picked up some new friends in the mess. One of them is down there now on Thomas's mare.”

“You going after her?”

“Hell no,” Hudson laughed. “I was down there already to fetch these two. Barely made it out. Once is enough for me.”

“Then let's get out of here before they call for reinforcements,” Thomas suggested. “I'm not taking the blame for a herd of wild cattle derailing a military convoy.”

“Let's just give 'er a second,” Hudson smiled, pushing up the brim of his hat. “See what she does.”

I turned back, looking for Sonya. The train was pulling away now, gaining some speed. Sonya was climbing out of the last train car with something shiny in her hands. It took me a moment to realize what it was.

That's my katana! The recognition sent shock waves through me. If there was one thing I hated it was being separated from my blade. In the last twenty-four hours I'd had it happen several times. I vowed in my heart that I would get it back from her, that I wouldn't let anyone take it from me again.

“What is she doing with your sword?” Felicity sounded angrier than ever, as if Sonya had taken something special from her.

Before I could say anything more, Sonya made a running jump and landed on the back of the stolen mare. Gasps of astonishment came crashing over us from our rescuers at her graceful landing. She veered away from the train and came back in our direction. Within a few minutes she had climbed the hillside, lacing her fingers into the horse’s mane and holding herself upright by squeezing her thighs over the animal as it tore upward and away from the undead. Casually, she strutted over to us and handed me my sword.

“Can't leave without this,” she grinned.

I took it in my hands and stared down at it with new appreciation. I could feel Felicity burning a hole through me with her angry glare, but I ignored her. There would be time to deal with that later.

“Thank you,” I stammered, unable to express my deep felt gratitude with mere words. I'd have hugged her if Felicity weren’t there. “I owe you big time.”

“Looks like they're gone for now,” Hudson said. We turned and saw the steam engine picking up speed as it pulled away. I felt a sadness in my heart, because I knew that it was going to be harder to defend myself now.

You'll just have to get to Hueneme on your own, I thought. You've done it before. You can do it again.

“We kinda needed to be on that train,” I explained to the Marshal.

“Really?” He shook his head. “From the looks of things you were better off not going wherever they were taking you.”

“The cowboy's right,” Sonya agreed, whipping her long braids around. “Things will work out far better for us not arriving in chains like slaves.”

Easy for you to say, the thoughts ran in my head. You're a wanted fugitive who has now escaped military custody twice. Felicity and I still have a chance as long as Moto is in charge of things.

“Looks like you really know how to handle yourself,” Hudson said with a smile to Sonya. She patted the horse in reply.

“We understand one another,” Sonya said.

“Why don't the ladies ride together, and Thomas can take one of Harry's horses?”

Felicity turned to stare at him in shock, then me. When I didn't say anything, she climbed down and walked over to the horse. Sonya reached down her hand to help her up, but Felicity pushed it away.

“I've got this,” she insisted, using her arms to pull herself up onto the back of the horse.

“Well done,” Sonya approved. “Hang on to me securely. It's harder riding bareback than it looks.”

Hudson turned and rode out ahead, leaving the rest of our group behind us. I turned my head to see them follow, trying not to make eye contact with Felicity or Sonya.

We rode toward the far off mountains, and within a few minutes I could see a stretch of tiny houses dotting the landscape in the distance. We came upon a series of high barbwire fences that forced us to ride back and forth into a tangled maze of entrances, ensuring nothing could move directly through undetected. It reminded me of the way department stores used to create artificial barricades in front of entrances to impede the flow of traffic, forcing shoppers to view more items as they passed through. There were cowbells attached in various places, both on the poles and on the razor-sharp metal. I could see bits of rotting flesh still clinging to the front rows of wiring, along with pieces of tattered clothing, but nothing more as we moved further in to the property line.

“What's all this wiring for out in the middle of nowhere?” I became worried we might not be much better off where we were headed. There'd been an unusually high amount of zombies back at the crossing, especially for this desert area, and when they finished their lunch of soldiers and cows they'd probably be moving in this direction. “You get a lot of zombies this far out?”

“They don't usually come up this high,” the Marshal explained. “But when they do, the fencing catches 'em every time without fail.”

“Forget about the wiring, what's with the cowbells?” Felicity asked.

“Let's us know if we've got biters trapped in the wire,” Hudson said in a matter-of-fact tone. “The bells also serve as an advance warning system for us, in case something worse is heading our way. Most days the wind blows in toward town. That means we hear things long before they reach us. A biter caught in the barbwire makes a steady jingling noise as it tries to free itself. It's pretty easy to distinguish. If, on the other hand, a truck full of bad men were to come barreling past our property lines, they'd not only get chewed up by the staggered fencing, but would also set off one hell of a racket in the process, allowing us to get our women and children to safety. I'm sure you've noticed by now, the living present far more dangers these days than the dead ever can.”

I gulped as I thought about all I had been through, and sagely nodded in agreement.

We rode on past wooden fences to the right of us that held cows, chickens, and pigs. There was even a goat, just like the petting zoo had at the county fair I'd once visited as a kid. To the left of us were fields with some kind of green vegetation growing.

“I'm surprised you can get plants to grow in these conditions,” I said. “Looks like the surface of the moon to the naked eye.”

“We don't grow much out here,” John laughed. “That's mostly prickly pear cactus. It can be eaten raw, or cooked into candies and jelly. No, most of what we grow is in the greenhouses over there.”

He pointed off in the distance to a line of white-tented structures.

“We grow onions, carrots, tomatoes, lettuce, radishes, peppers, beans, beets, broccoli, and more,” he proudly noted. “The original architects designed it to stay cool, and brought in loads of fertilizer to get it started. We've got a compost and recycling system in place now that keeps it running smoothly. I don't know how we'd have survived without all of this.”

We passed through another gate, this one made of wooden beams that forced us to make three turns, and rode into what looked like an Old Western mining town, passing a horse corral, and next to it a livery and blacksmith. A short, bearded man looked up from hammering horseshoes as we passed and nodded to Hudson, then went back to work. Turning the corner, we entered a bustling town looking like something from the turn of the century. There was a schoolhouse, an old saloon, a general store, and a butcher's shop. We rode past a large town meeting hall as well, coming to the end of the road and the town jail. Hudson hopped off his horse and tied it to the front, then walked up a small set of stairs to the two story wooden house next door. I turned to look back at the town, noticing a row of wooden houses out along the hillside standing in the mountains and snuggled in the shadows.

I looked up to see a line of riders approaching, which included Sonya and Felicity, Thomas and Harry, and the rest of the Indians. One by one they arrived and dismounted, walking forward to where I was now standing. Behind them some of the townsfolk had begun to gather, talking in whispers and pointing in our direction. I walked over to Felicity who looked upset, but let me put my arm around her. I turned back to the Marshal.

“Welcome to Gold Strike City,” he beamed, tipping his hat slightly with one hand as he flashed a row of crooked white teeth in a mock smile from behind his five o'clock shadow. “Let's get inside before the mob starts asking too many questions, and I'll fill you in on all you need to know.”

Chapter Eleven

“It was just an old ghost town,” Hudson explained, walking behind his desk and sitting down. The rest of us sat crammed on a wooden bench. We'd come inside and left the growing mob of concerned citizens outside to gossip in loud whispers. “Long forgotten and left to the elements. It lingered out here in the middle of nowhere for years, and no one gave it a second thought. The town was originally founded by mining company folk in an attempt to lure greedy prospectors, but most of them died at the hands of local Indians or got fed up and left within the first year.

“I object to that characterization of my people, dude,” Harry interrupted, looking pissed.

“You were born and raised in Detroit, pal,” Hudson chuckled. “Your band of patchwork Indians is made up of two of the whitest Mexicans I've ever seen, and a guy who has more relatives in Bombay than he does on Native American reservations. In fact, the only real Indian in your troupe is Mister Ash over there. Maybe he should be doing the objecting?”

“Mister Ash?”

“It's the short version of Ashkii,” he shrugged. “In Navajo it means entertainer. My parents were very supportive when I decided to take up acting.”

“You see? He don't mind.”

“Just take it easy, man,” Harry groaned. “That's all I'm saying. Just because the whole world went to hell in a hand basket doesn't mean we can just start throwing around racial stereotypes.”

“I'm just bringing them up to speed,” Hudson objected. “It's not like this is being logged down as the official history of the High Plains Indians.”

“Yeah well, that's how things start,” Harry grumbled. “The only pieces of history we have left now are the stories we tell each other. When the dust finally settles, I don't want to go back to hearing about fire water and scalping the white man.”

“Are you done?”

Hudson held up his hands in frustration, obviously wanting to move on to the rest of his story. Harry looked guilty as he realized he'd begun to rant and had led them off course, bringing all the attention of the room to himself, as the rest of us waited to hear what Hudson had to tell us. He rolled his eyes and let out an exaggerated sigh for an apology.

“Sorry man. Go ahead.”

“Okay. So as I was saying, the conditions were rough and, as you can see, we're a ways off from the railroad,” Hudson smirked, getting right back into his story-telling groove. He gestured with his hands, trying to add visual cues to his historical narration. “Then one day along comes Theodore Dudley Raymond, or as we liked to call him, Teddy Duds.”

“Duds Man,” Harry chimed in, nodding somberly.

“Duds Man,” Mister Ash parroted back.

“Who is the Duds Man?”

“Our Lord and Savior, pretty much,” Harry answered, pointing to a picture of a man on the wall in a bow tie and bowler hat smiling down at them. “God rest his soul.”

“He's responsible for our little piece of salvation,” Hudson rejoined. “Half black and half British, he never knew who his real parents were. He grew up in an orphanage in Liverpool, and went on to get a scholarship at Harvard. He set out to study law, and graduated at the top of his class. He opened his own law firm and began making a name suing people, building a huge empire using bus ads and daytime television spots, promising his clients astronomical payouts for everything from on-the-job injuries to car accidents to wrongful termination and sexual harassment.”

“Sounds like his darn obit, for crying out loud,” Harry hollered. “He was a genius. Well? Go on and tell 'em.”

Hudson looked like he was five seconds away from losing his cool with Harry-the-Painted-Indian, but he fought back his frustration and continued on.

“He made his big money suing the city of Los Angeles and the police department after he was pulled over one night on suspicion of drunk driving, and then beaten for resisting arrest. Later it came out that the racist cops forgot to read him his Miranda rights. They also forgot to check the car for recording devices, and the audio of the whole ugly incident made international news. The city settled for a huge sum, and Teddy Duds sold his practice at the same time for over twenty million dollars.”

“That's when he came out and bought up the land,” Harry reported, fixing a wild-eyed stare at them.

“He lived here too, while it was being restored. He grew up watching old Westerns in the orphanage, and yearned to live the dream of an American cowboy one day. Finally, flush with cash, he took his shot. He was the first Marshal in Gold Strike City, as well as the Mayor. That's why his picture still hangs on the wall.”

“He wanted to eventually create a theme park, but it never came together quite how he’d imagined,” Hudson added. “After pouring money into the town he ended up hiring a cast of actors to bring the Old West to life for him, which included a sheriff, a school teacher, wild Indians, and our very own cast of bad guys. He'd bus in tourists to show what it was like in the recreated wild west, and we all had to stay in character at all times. It never became as big as he’d wanted, but in the end I like to believe he was a happy man when he passed away. He's buried in the town cemetery back by the hill, just as his last will and testament demanded.”

“So how did you all come to be in possession of the place?” The words were out of my mouth before I had time to
think about how rude I was being. They were telling me about an important man, someone they'd loved and respected and lost, someone they owed everything to in life, and I'd just glossed right over it. The truth was I was bone tired, exhausted from running for my life all night long. The three blows I'd taken to the head in the last twenty-four hours hadn't helped either. If Hudson or Harry were offended, they did a great job of not showing it.

“He didn't have no family, never married or had kids, so he had no one to leave Gold Strike City to when he passed away,” Harry quickly replied. “That's why he left it to us, the people who ran it day in and day out. We'd made sacrifices, you see. You can't imagine what it's like having to move to the middle of nowhere, and come out every morning to perform. It wears on you. It takes its toll. It's a labor of love. In the end, the only people left were those who had given up on their dream of acting and making it big in Hollywood, and were just fine with being stars in this forgotten show.”

“We're so sorry for your loss,” Felicity empathized, squeezing my hand, but looking around the room with genuine remorse. “He sounds like he was an amazing person.”

“He was a grand man and we owe him everything,” Hudson said with gratitude, respectfully pulling his hat off and placing it over his heart. “If it wasn't for him, we'd surely be dead by now. Most of us would have gone back to the cities in search of work, and we all know how that worked out for folks on Z Day.”

“Amen to that,” Harry shouted, taking out a small silver flask and sipping from it.

“When the trouble started, we didn't head for some government shelter or quarantine,” Hudson continued, giving Harry a disapproving look. “We packed up our kids and our stuff and we moved up here, away from the rest of the world. For a while it was an untouched paradise. We didn't see zombies, or even other people for that matter, for months. We didn't even think to put up the fencing until after the first walking corpse came ambling into town.”

“You talked about being able to see trouble coming,” Felicity interjected. “Have you had problems? Have you been attacked?”

“We'd had some issues in the past,” Hudson sighed, his eyes misting over like he was remembering things he wished to forget forever. “But it's been a good while since then.”

“Issues with zombies, or people?” The words were out of my mouth before I had a chance to think.

“Both,” Hudson admitted. “It hasn't been easy living up here, but we've made it work. Warding off biters was as simple as putting up the fencing you saw. The other trouble, well, let's just say it took more direct measures to resolve.”

Hudson and Harry shot dark looks at one another. Harry looked away first, glancing down at his turquoise studded cowboy boots, which were now covered in a thin sheen of desert dust.

“What exactly does that mean?” Felicity looked alarmed.

“I don't want to talk about it,” Hudson said forcefully. “We've all had to do things since the world ended that we aren't proud of. I'm sure it's no different with you. What's important is that we've created something here, something worth keeping, something worth fighting for.”

“We can't begin to thank you for what you did for us,” I gratefully added, breaking the tangible tension in the room. “We'd have died back on that train if you hadn't come along and saved us. At least I know I would have for sure. So thank you.”

“You are welcome,” the Marshal said, a look of relief washing over him as the previous topic seemed to die. “Just glad we were rustling when it all went down. Otherwise, we'd have never known.”

“What he means is, you're lucky ducks,” Harry said with a wink. “You could be just part of the biting bastards now. Instead you're up here with us, and on a festival night.”

“A festival night?”

“That's right,” Hudson smiled, happy to have something new to talk about. “We like to keep alive as many of the traditions that we used to have as possible. This week is officially Gold Strike City Days. The fun kicks off tonight with a town festival and a dance in the old saloon. There are games, prizes, and loads of activities to keep you busy. The rest of the week, we’ll announce the winners of the best grow, the livestock awards, and horsemanship.”

“All that's fine and dandy,” Harry croaked, “but the dance is the real heart of the festivities and everyone knows it. It's the one time a year we get to cut loose and not catch hell for it.”

“He's right,” Hudson declared. “Illegal behavior is not condoned, but we look the other way on a lot of small infractions – including his imbibing problem. Right Harry?”

“Ain't no problem from where I'm sitting,” Harry shot back. “Besides, it was the white man who introduced my people to fire water in the first place, so you've got no one but yourselves to blame from where I'm sitting.”

“Now who's perpetuating racial stereotypes?!” Hudson bellowed at him.

“It's different when you're talking about your own race,” Harry growled back. There was a comical element to their tense back and forth, like it was part of some practiced skit they'd done a million times in a row, some forgotten episode of Laurel and Hardy.

“While that all sounds great, we have to be moving on,” I said quickly, trying to sound as grateful as I could manage. “It's a long way back to Hueneme, and the sooner we get moving the better off we'll be.”

“Nonsense,” Hudson replied. “You've been through a terrible ordeal. You're tired and confused. You could use a little unwinding time to sort things out. That goes for all of you.”

“I appreciate your hospitality,” I argued. “We all do, but you don't understand. Someone is waiting for us back in Hueneme. Someone important to me.”

“What's your hurry, son?” Harry fixed a stare on me. I looked around to see the others giving us the same cryptic look. What did they want from us? Why were they so concerned that we wanted to leave right away?

You're being paranoid, I thought. They are just trying to help you. You're overly tired. You haven't slept in days, and you've been through a nightmare. Just relax and explain it to them.

“It's my brother, Moto,” I shrugged, trying to sound casual and not defensive. “He'll want to know that we're alive, that we didn't die out there on those tracks. The longer we wait, the more he'll worry. There's just a whole lot more going on than we have time to get into, but…trust me.”

“I understand,” Hudson said at once. “Now listen to what I am telling you. It would be a mistake to leave now, before we know what's going on out there. We've never seen a horde of zombies that size, and we don't know where they came from to be honest. You've been through an ordeal, kid, one I wouldn't wish on any man – friend or foe. I think the best thing you can do at this point is to rest up for the night.”

“It's just that…” I began, but he cut me off.

“If you still feel this strongly about leaving in the morning, then we'll ride you back to the tracks and point you on your way,” Hudson insisted. “We just don't need to be taking any chances at night, is all. We don't want to draw any unwanted attention to ourselves. Got it?”

I was ready to explode at him. I had a list of well thought out remarks planned for him, explaining that I didn't need permission to do anything and how we weren't going to be his prisoners, but before I could get to any of them Felicity jumped in.

“We understand,” she decided. “My husband, Xander, has been through a lot in the last couple of days. He just needs to sleep for a while and clean up. We could all use a little break. Could you be so kind as to show us to your guest quarters and give us some time?”

“Of course,” the Marshal hurriedly replied. “We've got a row of guest rooms back at the edge of town. I was hoping to escort you along the way and show you some of the finer points of Gold Strike, if you'd be so kind as to let me. I'd also like to swing by the blacksmith, Frank, and see if he can't get those shackles taken off you both.”

“Sure,” she agreed again. “We'd love that. Thank you so much for all your help.”

I started to open my mouth to argue, but Felicity put her hand on mine and shut me up quick. She understood what I couldn't seem to grasp in the moment. I trusted her to lead us to safety. She was right. I was totally exhausted. More than anything I wanted to sleep, now that we were out of immediate danger.

“Great,” Hudson roared with excitement, smacking his fist down on his desk. “Well then, let me give you all the grand tour. Follow me.”

He sprang up and moved briskly to the front door, not waiting to see if we were following. The crowd outside had dispersed some, but there were still plenty of women left, whispering back and forth with cupped hands attached to each other’s ears, while small children clung to their legs and hid behind their long prairie skirts. It was clear that Sonya, and not either of us, was their intended target. Hudson parted them like Moses parting the Red Sea, and kept on walking. Sonya followed after him at a fair pace, a knowing smile the only recognition she'd offer the gawking women.

“She's got nothing on more than her underwear,” one hissed in a gasp.

“She's got no shame,” the other replied, just loud enough for all of us to hear. “None at all.”

“And in front of the children.”

“Never mind the children. Just look at the effect she's having on the men!”

The thin undershirt she'd been wearing was now clinging to her body with sweat from the hot desert air, leaving little to the imagination. Looking ahead I saw a line of men stopped dead in their tracks as Hudson strode past them, all heads turning to watch Sonya as she walked along behind him. It was like an alien had come down and was now walking among them.

I wonder if this was how Cortez felt when he first encountered the native peoples of Latin America? At least Felicity isn't alone in her distrust of her, I thought. Looks like she has this effect on women wherever she goes.

I felt Felicity squeeze my hand and I turned toward her. We were walking ahead of Harry and his band of wild Indians, hand in hand, taking in everything around us. Felicity motioned with her head toward an approaching cloud of dust on the horizon heading our way. Within seconds I could make out a dark form coming from the middle, a man all in black. Behind him two other riders came into focus, all looking ominous with dark clothes and unshaven faces. Within a few minutes they were upon us. Three unkempt men with black outfits and red sashes sitting on tired-looking horses. The leader stepped down off his horse in front of the Marshal, and gave him a dirty look.

“What's all this commotion about?” Hudson demanded, looking cross.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing, Marshal,” he shot back. He was much bigger than I'd expected once he was on his own two feet. He stood well over six feet tall with a barrel chest and broad shoulders. He was nearly a foot taller than the Marshal, but Hudson didn't back down an inch as he menacingly cantered toward him.

“We don't need any trouble here today, Bad Bart,” Hudson warned him. “Not from you or anyone in your gang. Not before the festival.”

Bad Bart gave a small wink to Hudson before letting his features blossom into an angry scowl.

“Well that's just too bad for you, Marshal,” he huffed, “because you've got trouble now. Lots of trouble. Nobody tells my men and me what we can or can't do. Hell, without us there ain't gonna be no damn festival at all.”

“You watch your mouth, mister,” Hudson barked back, still frozen in place. “There are women and children here. We don't tolerate no sass talk, you hear?”

“Oh yeah? And just what in tarnation are you gonna do about it, ya yellow bellied cur?”

Bad Bart puffed his chest up and began inching toward Hudson, who quickly drew his gun.

“We're not afraid of you,” the Marshal shouted theatrically. “That goes for your men too. Now if you don't want to be resting in a pine box before sundown, I suggest you either play nice or take your men and leave. You got that?”

Bad Bart froze in place, staring at the gun in Hudson's hand now pointed at his face. He raised his hands slowly to show he was unarmed and not spoiling for a fight. Then, without warning, the two men sprang toward one another and embraced, laughing and slapping each other on the back.

“You son of a gun,” Hudson cried out. “What took you so long? Where the hell have you been?”

“We ran into some trouble along the way,” Bad Bart informed him, dropping his ridiculous accent. He stepped back and stared jovially at his friend. “This whole area is crawling with fresh zombies now. I don't know what's driving them up this way, but small groups of them are everywhere.”

“And not so small groups, too,” Hudson said, turning his head to stare at me. “We pulled this lot out of a biting frenzy that stopped a military convoy dead in its tracks down by the canyons – literally.”

Bad Bart looked over at us and his eyes went wide with shock. A look of joy and disbelief spread across his face. I barely had time to wonder why before he was charging straight for us.

“Well dip me in holy water and call me one of the chosen,” he mumbled as he came stumbling forward, eyes locked on Felicity. “It's really you.”

Here we go again, I thought, rolling my eyes and letting out a small sigh.

Felicity squeezed my hand tight as he came closer, and I felt myself tensing up considerably. It was always the same. Felicity was a celebrity, once upon a time in a world far, far away – before the living dead roamed the Earth and threatened to kill us all. It seemed like almost everyone we came across knew exactly who she was. Most of them had at least seen her on the front cover of tabloids at some point in the grocery stores, and the rest knew her from her popular movies. A few were fans simply because they'd seen the reality television show clips of her on the Internet that featured celebrities dancing against each other. The star judge had gone full zom halfway into an episode on live television, and eaten one of the contestants. The clip instantly went viral on the web, showing Felicity fleeing in terror; black tears streaking down her face as she cried off her mascara. Everywhere we went people made comments to her. Most of the time the fact that she was famous actually ended up helping us out of sticky situations, but often it came with a heavy price – putting up with other guys drooling over my wife and making inappropriate comments. I'd never had a serious girlfriend before her, but something told me nothing would have prepared me for the kind of pressure I'd be facing for marrying a celebrity. I found myself wishing more and more that she'd just been a normal girl I'd met when she moved in next door, rather than attracting all this unwanted attention.

Don't forget, a tiny voice in my head whispered, you were once a fan too. You even had a poster of her on your wall.

“Miss Felicity Jane,” Bad Bart said, taking his hat off in respect and clutching it to his vest. “It is an honor to meet you again.”

“It's Mrs. Felicity Jane Macnamara now,” she corrected him lightly, “and thank you. This is my husband, Xander.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said, sticking my hand out. He ignored me completely, his eyes still locked on her like a man dying of thirst in the desert staring at an oasis and wondering if it's just a mirage.

“What in the hell is an angel like you doing out here?”

I felt a twinge of anger flush through me at the insult as I let my hand drop back to my side. I became acutely aware of my sword now, dangling over my shoulder. My fingers were ready to pull the blade free and let it sing at the first sign of trouble.

Remember what happened in Freedom Town, the voice inside me cried out. Remember what happened with Jamie Friendly. Remember how bad you felt for not trusting her before, when you saw her shackled in the train?

More than anything, I wanted to strike him down right where he stood for the insult. He was easily as big as Tank had been, but something told me I could still take him.

You made a promise to trust her, the voice inside me sang. You have to keep control. You cannot let your emotions get the better of you and make you sloppy. Remember your training!

What had Moto taught me about controlling my fear? I thought back to those lazy afternoons when we'd go out in the field near our house, and he'd teach me simple lessons he'd learned as a child in Japan.

“The world is always going to push you,” he'd said, easily shoving me off my feet. “It's your job to learn how and when to react to it. For most, the first reaction to danger is fear. Fear is good. Fear is healthy. Fear lets you know that you are alive. But fear can lead people to make terrible decisions if they don't learn to control it. Then fear can end up costing you the battle, or worse, your life.”

“So how do I learn not to be afraid?”

“You don't,” he said, wheeling around on me. “You will never in your life stop feeling fear in the presence of danger. Great warriors don't try to run from their fears. Instead they turn and face them, leaning into that which they fear most, and learning to use it to their advantage. When you stare into your fears without flinching, you will see them shrink in size and intensity. You will be able to master them and make them your weapons. Then you will know that fear is your friend.”

Afterward we had gone over several techniques for learning to subdue fear, mostly meditations he'd been taught as a kid. Then Moto spent the rest of the day trying to scare me, and laughing when I overreacted every single time. In the end I was just too young to fully grasp what he'd been trying to teach me, but I never forgot it either. Some lessons are meant to be carried with us, so we can rise to the challenge when the right moment comes, like seeds bursting open at the right moment and growing up through perfect soil toward the light.

If it works for fear, then why not jealousy and anger? I thought. It's worth a try.

I shifted my focus to my breathing, and imagined my head becoming a solid block of wood.

Don't act, I thought. Just observe and be ready.

It helped, but I still felt a small flame of anger smoldering inside me.

“Holding on to anger is like holding on to a hot coal,” Moto had told me once long ago. “You are the only one who gets burned.”

“So I'm never supposed to feel anything?”

“On the contrary,” Moto replied. “You feel everything, one hundred percent, but you let it pass through you without holding on to it! You don't allow it to control you.”

I won't allow this anger to control me, I told myself. Instead, I will transform and use it to my advantage. I smiled as I realized I could actually do just that. I wasn't a helpless victim being tossed around by my emotions and only reacting to life. I was able to decide how I felt and how I reacted. I was still in control of myself.

I focused on the sick feelings of anger and jealousy inside, until it was crystal clear in my mind. I imagined that all of the hurt and insecurity and fear were transformed into a brilliant candle flame glowing brightly inside of a heavy darkness. Then, almost as if I was standing outside of myself, I imagined pouring a pitcher of cool, clear, pure water over the dancing flame. It went out immediately, leaving behind a calm, refreshed feeling. The whole process took only seconds to accomplish. Instead of being a puppet to my fear and anxiety I now felt calm and relaxed, ready to take on whatever this encounter brought me with a clear mind. It was amazing!

It was obvious that Felicity felt uncomfortable by the situation; she didn't ask for this kind of constant attention, and suddenly I felt sad for her.

She doesn't have a choice, I thought. No wonder she said she wished she could leave all this behind. Poor girl can't escape her past.

Instead of thinking about how Bad Bart had insulted me and what I was going through, I now thought only of Felicity and how she suffered nearly every time this very situation arose. More than anything she wanted to be a good wife, to show me she cared, to leave how and what she had been before Z Day behind her, but the world wouldn't let her. A feeling of love and compassion for her came over me, and I squeezed her hand reassuringly to let her know I was still by her side.

“Have we met before?” Felicity's voice went up just slightly, a clear indication to me that she was doing her best to be polite in a trying situation. To the untrained ear it just sounded like there was more sweetness in her delivery, but to a man who'd come to know her as well as I had it sounded like forced civility. ‘More than anything I wish I could slip past just once without someone making a big deal out of nothing,’ is what it told me. Needless to say Bad Bart missed the meaning entirely, by a long shot. He took her kind response as an eager invitation to start babbling.

“Well yes, of course. I know I'm not as famous as you are, and it was a long time ago, no doubt about that, but surely you wouldn't forget the man who died in your arms. I mean I whispered my dying words to you, telling you where to find your lost dog.”

Felicity stared at him with no recognition as he slowly ran out of steam, a worried look creeping over his surly face. He seemed to shrink back some as the seconds dragged on with all of us waiting for some kind of response from her. At last she spoke, her eyes coming to life.

“You sacrificed yourself for Sparky!”

The pinched look on Bad Bart's face dissipated like morning fog hit by a direct blast of unfiltered sunlight. It was replaced at once with a much more modest appearing sense of relief.

“That's right, little missy.”

“Perry? Is that really you? Oh my God!”

“No one calls me that anymore. Around here we use our stage names to stay in character. Call me Bart.”

“It's been so long,” she squealed, excited to have a memorable part of her former life drift back to her again. “Perry, I mean Bart, used to watch over me like my own personal bodyguard when I was on set. He kept the creepy old wardrobe guy away from me, and scared off a fair number of stalker fans during the three months we were on location. I was still dealing with fallout from my parents’ divorce, and taking heat in the tabloids every week. If it wasn't for Perry, sorry Bart, I don't think I would have made it through that show. He was always cracking jokes, performing for me, trying to make me laugh and lift my spirits. We were inseparable that last month, right up until the martini shot.”

“Thick as thieves you might say,” Bart said with a knowing wink.

“Hey,” Felicity cried out in protest. “It was your idea to boost the fake guns from the props department and play war games during that second unit pickup shot day.”

“I didn't hear you complaining when you beat me!”

“Don't get him started,” Hudson said wryly. “It's all he ever talks about. His big feature film debut, working with Felicity Jane.”

“You mean you didn't tell her right away that I was here?” Bart looked dumbfounded. He grinned from ear to ear like a proud kid saying I told you so to a group of disbelieving friends.

“Never crossed my mind,” Hudson guffawed. “It's not like I knew who she was. I've only ever heard you talk about Felicity Jane, the movie star. It's not like you carry a picture in your wallet.”

Thank God for that, I thought. I shot a look at Felicity who had let go of my hand. She bounded over and gave him a hug. His head hung over her shoulder and I was surprised by the look on his face, like an older brother seeing his little sister after a long time away.

He wasn't interested in trying to steal her away, I thought. He's just happy to see an old friend, a kindred spirit, someone who made it and got to live the dream they both shared as actors.

Felicity pulled back and turned to me.

“As I was saying,” she said, adding extra emphasis to each word, “this is my husband, Xander.”

Bad Bart listened this time, acknowledging me with a friendly nod of the head and sticking out his big hand. I stuck mine back out toward his and he took it. The size and roughness of his skin reminded me of a baseball glove for some reason, while his general demeanor was now more like an overexcited Dalmatian.

“Bad Bart, leader of the Bad Apple Gang,” he said amicably. “It's a pleasure to meet you, man. Sorry about before. I think I was just in shock. I still am. I haven't seen her since the wrap party.”

“What was the name of the movie?”

“Sparky. That was it. Nothing else. Just Sparky.”

“It was an awful movie,” Felicity laughed. “It didn't last two weeks in theaters.”

“What? It wasn't that bad.” Bad Bart protested.

“It was that bad, probably the worst performance of my career.”

“Your worst was my best! Thanks a lot! That's the closest I ever came to making it in Hollywood. After that it was just random theater gigs and kid's parties, until I got an invite to Gold Strike City.”

“All right now,” Hudson said, still shaking his head. “There'll be more time for catching up soon enough. First let's get those shackles off you. This here is Frank, our real life blacksmith, among other things.”

“Nice to meet you,” he muttered gruffly, still working a red-hot horseshoe with a hammer on an iron block.

“Our new arrivals have had a rough couple of days,” Hudson explained. “Somewhere along the way they got these fancy jewelry pieces they're now looking to unload. Think you can spring 'em loose?”

Frank grunted, depositing the hot metal into a vat of water that hissed as steam rose from its rippling surface. He strode from around his block of metal and bent down, examining the restraints and touching the metal. I looked down at him as he inspected mine. He glanced up and caught my stare, then grunted and walked back to his tool bench. A moment later he came back with bright red industrial-strength bolt cutters, like something you might pick up at the Home Depot. From the moment we'd first stepped foot in town they'd resembled inhabitants of a small settlement from the Old West, right down to the way they dressed and how they spoke. The bolt cutters were the first glimpse I had that they knew the modern world existed, if only in shambles of its former glory.

Frank quickly cut Sonya, Felicity, and me clean of the metal bindings weighing us down. I let out a small sigh of relief. I hadn't realized how encumbered I'd felt until the chains were no longer clamped on me against my will.

I walked around, stretching my legs and taking deep breaths. In the distance, I saw a beautiful wild stallion running free in its own stockade. The horse cried out as I approached, and began to jump and kick. The huge beast looked restless, like he yearned to be free again, and wouldn't settle down completely until he had figured out how to break out of the artificial enclosure in which he had been placed.

I know just how you feel, I thought.

“What's this?” I asked, turning back to them. Hudson and Bart opened their mouths to answer at the same time, but it was Frank who beat them to it and did the honors.

“A rare and bewitching creature,” he sang out, “with a truly unbreakable spirit.”

Chapter Twelve

“That horse’s a beauty,” Hudson said. “Ain't he?”

“For an untamed hell child of a she-devil,” Bad Bart said, spitting into the dust at his feet in contempt. “I damn near broke my neck being thrown by him.”

Felicity walked over and patted Bart on the arm, and he let out a little laugh.

“That black beast will not submit to someone who is his lesser,” Frank smiled. “That is all there is to it. Nothing more and nothing less.”

“He’ll calm down in his own time,” Hudson assured him. “Wait and see. Then we'll be able to ride him.”

“Ain't nobody ever going to be able to ride that one,” Bad Bart countered. “He’s unbreakable.”

“What's the horse’s name?” Felicity asked.

“We call her Black Beauty,” the Marshal replied.

“Like the kids book?”

“Nothing gets past you, li’l darling,” Bad Bart chuckled. “Still sharp as a whip.”

“I see the resemblance,” Felicity responded, ignoring Bart. “How long has this horse been in here on his own?”

“Well let's see,” Hudson answered, counting on his fingers as he bit his lip. “I'd say it's been almost two months now. We found him out on the plains and wrangled him. Took three men to bring that horse in, and I'm fairly certain that was just because he wasn't feeling good at the time. He’s strong as they come now, and ready to bust out or die trying. We haven't found anyone willing to give him a try since he threw Bart here. It's a shame really. The creature’s a beautiful animal. I'd love to take him out for a ride and see how fast he can run.”

Sonya had a crazy look in her eyes. She was frantically unwinding the braids in her hair as she stumbled forward, eyes locked on the animal. She climbed over the fence, and began walking slowly up to the magnificent wonder.

“What in the hell does she think she's doing?”

“I don't know,” I answered, as if the question had been posed specifically to me. For some reason I felt responsible for her, like I had to account for anything she did, even though I hadn’t known her at all just the day before. I could feel Felicity's stare burning into my back, but I just kept my eyes locked on the show unfolding in front of me.

She not only saved your life, I thought, but she saved your katana as well. If it weren’t for her you'd be in hot water right now. So why do I feel so guilty? And how can I ever trust her?

Sonya slowly approached Black Beauty with one hand out. The horse began to kick and spit, but Sonya didn't back off. Instead she inched forward, never taking her eyes off the beast.

“She'll be killed,” Bad Bart roared. “Get her out of there!”

“Looks like it's in the hands of fate now,” Hudson said, placing his hands on his hips. “Let's see how she does.”

Black Beauty snorted forcefully and took several clomping steps forward, aggressively challenging Sonya, but the woman warrior with the long blonde tresses, like dripping honey capturing melted sunshine, didn't even flinch. She laid her palm flat on the horse’s muzzle and left it there, closing her eyes and bowing her head as if she were praying. I held my breath, certain that the calm would break and Sonya would be trampled into little bloody pieces. Instead the dark beast began to rub against the hand, as if begging to be nuzzled.

“I don't believe it,” Bad Bart whispered.

Sonya calmly walked around to Black Beauty’s side, stroking and petting the gorgeous animal as she went, then swung up onto his back, as if they'd done this dance a thousand times. Sonya laced her fingers into the horse’s mane, as I'd seen her do before when she rode bareback during our rescue. She leaned forward into riding position and whispered into the horse's ear. Black Beauty reared slightly as he shot forward, but only out of instinct. In a flash the animal galloped across the distance to the edge of the fencing, then broke right and came back around in a gentle trot, stopping at the fence line closest to us.

“Well I'll be,” Hudson said, eyes wide with amazement. “Wonders never cease.”

“Black Beauty really likes you,” Bad Bart laughed, raising his hand to touch the horse’s muzzle. The magnificent animal gave a snort and pulled just out of his reach.

“I'd like to think we understand one another,” Sonya said, as if she were overly simplifying something so that a child could understand it. Bart looked taken aback by her temerity, but quickly recovered.

“Must be a girl thing,” he shrugged. “Apparently, he's just too sensitive for a male rider.”

“I believe you're right,” Hudson agreed. “Maybe he just needed a gentler touch is all.”

Sonya looked offended by the suggestion that she was somehow less tough than the previous cowboys who'd tried to break Black Beauty. Her emerald eyes burned with electricity as her features contorted in anger, making her look like a possessed witch. She let out a howl and took off once more, galloping off with renewed enthusiasm and picking up speed. She blazed from one fence post to the next, turning at the last second so she wouldn't lose speed. Bad Bart let out a long whistle as Sonya raced past them on the giant horse. They moved like one, animal and woman, both with a feral look in their eyes that said no man shall ever conquer me.

“Well I'll be damned,” Felicity breathed in disbelief.

I turned and looked at Felicity, but she no longer looked upset. She looked just as shocked and amazed as the rest of us.

After making several passes and riding all the way around the fences at least a dozen times, Sonya brought the stallion back to us and dismounted. She whispered something in Black Beauty's ear again, then patted him on the side and stepped through the fence like nothing happened.

“What did you tell that horse?” Bad Bart asked, looking astonished.

“I told him I'd be back for him,” Sonya smiled, a look of pure happiness in her eyes. “Soon.”

“You all right, son?”

Hudson was staring at me with a concerned look on his face. I felt myself wobble a little on my feet as I turned to see everyone else gape at me as well.

“Now that you mention it, I am a little dizzy,” I admitted, feeling the sudden urge to sit down and not get up again.

“He hasn't slept in two days,” Felicity offered. “And he told me he'd been hit hard in the head several times during that period.”

“He can't go to sleep now,” Bart warned us. “He might have a concussion.”

“Don't you think we'd know by now if he had a concussion? We've been with him long enough to tell.”

“I'm fine,” I lied. “I'm just a little worn out. It's nothing a nap and something to eat won't fix.”

“Well then, let's get you to your room,” Hudson smiled, looking relieved. “You can rest up before the big fiesta tonight. I'll have some of the ladies bring you food and water as well. You'll feel better in no time at all.”

“Thanks,” I said, feeling embarrassed by all the unwanted attention.

Bad Bart bid farewell to Felicity, and made her promise to come to the dance later. I thanked Frank once more while Sonya just waited impatiently, unaware that she was tapping her foot on the ground the whole time.

When we finally set off, Hudson led us straight through the rest of town without delay, winding along the path to the left and back toward the mountain where the wooden houses sat nestled into the rock, facing outward. It was like a small street in suburbia with each porch front decorated by the current inhabitants to reflect their own personal style. When we reached the end of the street, I saw the last few houses didn't have any kind of decorations at all. They looked vacant.

“The last two on the left are yours,” Hudson said. “By now the welcoming committee has already laid out some provisions for you.”

“Who?” I looked at him, confused. I hadn't seen any friendly group inviting us into town, just blank stares from angry-looking women gawking at Sonya.

“Sarah and Rebecca Kingman,” he guffawed. “Better known as the Spooky Sisters.”

“Are they ghosts?”

He roared with laughter at the suggestion.

“Naw, nothing like that. They’re twins. They just have a way of sneaking up on you, that's all. They never miss a beat, those ladies. I'll send one of them around to call on you in a few hours so you don't miss the festival.”

“Thank you so much for everything,” Felicity said.

“Yeah, thanks,” I added.

Sonya just nodded, then turned and marched off without a word, stomping onto the porch of the last house and wrestling momentarily with the doorknob before getting it to work.

Felicity took my hand and led me to our new lodging. The old boards on the porch looked like driftwood that had been sun bleached in the desert for a hundred years. It creaked as we both stepped onto it, but it held our combined weight despite my fears it wouldn't. I was certain we'd crash through and coiled rattlesnakes hiding underneath would attack us for disturbing their domain.

The door opened on the first try and we walked into the small, cool, clean room. There was a decent sized bed with a horsehair blanket and a real feather pillow. There were pictures on the walls of coyotes howling at the high desert moon, and a working fireplace with a cord of wood stacked next to it. There was also a small table with a glistening pitcher of cool water on it, two glasses, and a basket of fruit and vegetables.

Courtesy of the Spooky Sisters, I thought.

Felicity guided me to the bed and I fell face first into it. I was out like a light before she could ask me if I wanted something to drink. I could hear the words she was speaking, but not quite make out what they meant. I surrendered to my exhaustion and let my mind wander away as my body caught up on some long needed rest.

Strange images came to me, as if out of a mist, moving quickly like highlights from a television show. I couldn't keep up with any of them. They slipped through my mind like water through a sieve.

I saw Sonya riding Black Beauty, breaking free and riding away, leaving us behind. I called out to her, but she was gone, vanishing into the horizon. I saw the people of Gold Strike City smiling and laughing, having fun. Off in the distance I saw a whirling cloud of red and black fire heading toward us. None of the people seemed to notice they were in danger. The tornado of fire came ripping through town, setting them all ablaze and turning everything it touched to powdery ashes. There was screaming and crying and the sound of horses running fast and loud, like demons snorting. I could feel my heart racing in my chest as I fought to break free from the terrible dream.

I woke with a start, not knowing where I was.  I looked around in confusion, my eyes settling on Felicity who sat next to me on the bed. She leaned over and kissed my forehead.

“You okay? I've been worried about you. You were fighting and kicking in your sleep. I didn't want to wake you because I know you need your rest.”

“Yeah,” I said, my throat feeling dry. “I just had a bad dream is all.”

Felicity handed me a glass of water and I sat up, gulping it down.

“How's your head feeling?”

“It's sore, but I think I'm gonna live,” I said. “For now anyway.”

“Glad to hear it,” she smiled. “I'm not sure what I'd do without you.”

“Anything good left in the fruit basket?”

She grabbed the wicker container off the table and swung it over to me, setting it in my lap. I grabbed a tomato and bit into it raw. It was sweet and juicy. I could feel it dribbling down my chin. I wiped the juices with the back of my hand and giggled.

“Same thing happened to me,” she laughed. We stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, then she looked away as the smile slid off her face.

“So what are we going to do about the girl next door?”

The image from my dream of Sonya riding away on Black Beauty came back clearly for one moment, then faded.

“Is she still here?”

“She stopped snoring about an hour ago, but she didn't leave. I'm pretty sure I'd know. She's loud enough.”

“Can she hear us?”

“Not if we keep our voices down. I'm not sure that it really matters at this point. There are a lot of questions we need to ask her and the sooner we get to them the better off I'm going to feel, no matter what the answers are.”

“I'm not even sure where to start,” I admitted, still feeling guilty about suspecting the woman who'd risked her life to save mine of being up to no good.

“We can start with how she knew you were at Hellfire,” Felicity insisted. “Then maybe work our way back to why the military thinks she's a fugitive from justice, a thief, and oh yeah, don't let me forget, an assassin!”

“I've got a feeling about her I can't quite put my finger on,” I confessed.

“Oh, I'm sure you do,” Felicity said, shaking her head and crossing her arms in anger. “The same feeling that all the other guys in town got when they saw her marching around in her underwear in broad daylight.”

“Will you knock it off ?!” I whooped. “I'm being serious here. I feel like I know her from somewhere, but I can't quite put my finger on it. It's like she reminds me of someone and I'm trying to remember who.”

“Xander, how can we trust her? That's the only question you should be asking yourself right now. She could be planning to sell you for the bounty on your head. We could all be in grave danger because of her past, and all you can say is that she reminds you of someone? I know you got hit hard in the noggin, baby, but you need to snap out of it.”

I could tell by the look in her eyes that she knew she'd probably gone too far. She was letting her own insecurities get the best of her, despite lecturing me about the same things. She bit her lip and waited, bracing herself for my inevitable explosion and the ensuing knockdown drag out argument that always came with it. But instead of anger and jealousy, all I saw was the depth of the love we shared in that moment, and the fear she had of anything taking away our hard won happiness. She wasn't fighting with me, not really. She was fighting for me, for us, and she was willing to risk getting me angry to make me see the whole picture. My heart felt like it would burst as a fresh wave of emotion crashed over me.

I truly am the luckiest guy in the world, I thought.

“You're right,” I said, with an easy smile. Her jaw hung open as the words registered and she realized I wasn't going to war with her over a perceived slight. We were beyond those petty disputes now, as long as we stayed focused on what mattered most in the world – each other. I kissed her on the forehead, and she hugged me tight for several moments.

“So how do we approach her?” she asked, pulling back and staring into my eyes. “Do we just barge over there now, or wait a few days and see if she moves on?”

“I didn't think we were going to stick around,” I objected. “I thought we were just resting up and hitting the road again. Moto is going to be out of his mind when he finds out we're gone. I don't want him to worry a moment longer than he has to, you know?”

“Xander, it wouldn't hurt to give yourself a short break,” she said softly. “Just a few days to recover and get back on your feet after what happened. Once you're fully rested you'll be able to make better time anyway. Besides, we have no way of knowing how long the trip will take now.”

Once again, she was right. Even though I definitely felt better, I was far from back to normal. Who knew what kind of monsters we'd be facing as we journeyed back to Hueneme and the base? Chances were that I'd need all the stamina I could muster to fight off at least one enemy along the way.

“You're probably right,” I said. “Let's see how tonight goes and play it by ear.”

“And Sonya?”

“I think we need to be careful how we handle her,” I replied.

“No argument there,” Felicity rejoined.

“If she really is a bounty hunter or a fugitive or an assassin, then cornering her alone in an abandoned wooden house with no witnesses might not be the best idea,” I offered.

“We can't just go on ignoring the elephant in the room and pretend she's just one of the gang either,” Felicity protested.

“I think that's exactly what we should do,” I countered, “for the moment anyway. Then when I'm back up to full speed we can figure out the best way to approach her, if she's still around. Like you said, she might slink off if she's up to something nefarious and worried they're closing in on her.”

“Let's just hope she doesn't slit our throats between now and then,” Felicity said, her voice brimming with indignation.

“She could have let me die back in Hellfire, or killed me along the way when those bikers were chasing us. For whatever reason, she wants me alive for now. She even risked her life to save my sword when she didn't have any reason to help me. She may not be one of the good guys, but she's not all bad either. I want to get to the bottom of this as much as you do, maybe even more. I just don't want to blow our one shot at getting those answers.”

I sat up and stared into her eyes.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” she said, without hesitation.

“I want us both to agree. I don't want to fight with you anymore. I love you too much to see you hurt over something stupid I might have said. From now on, we don't hold anything back. We make decisions as a team.”

“As a family,” she softly corrected me.

“If you want me to march over there and kick the door in right now and demand answers, I will. Just give the word.”

“No,” she sighed. “You're right. We should wait until we know we're safe before we start rocking the boat. We could both use a few days to recover.”

“You like it here, don't you?”

“A town made up of actors all performing for one another and sharing their craft,” Felicity said with yearning in her glistening eyes. “What's not to like?”

“Speaking of which,” I said, bringing her back down to earth, “I was hoping to get cleaned up and head out into the festival. I’ve gotta admit, I'm more than a little curious about the way things work around here.”

“Are you sure you’re feeling up to it? You didn't get much sleep.” She gave me a nervous look and bit her lip. Once again, my heart felt like it would burst out of my chest. The last few days had been a wild roller coaster ride of emotions. I was glad we were together again, and that my fears and worries of losing her were now gone.

“I'm sure, baby,” I said. “We won't stay out late. Just long enough to take in the sights.”

I smiled at her, and the worry lines began to slowly fade from her forehead.

“The Spooky Sisters came by while you were sleeping and brought us some fresh clothing. They are actually quite nice. They'd like us to stay in character.”

“What? Why didn't you wake me up?” I wasn't really mad. I just couldn't believe I'd slept through having company.

You did get hit hard in the head several times, I reminded myself. A flash of the dream came to me once more, an image of Black Beauty's eyes close up, but I forced it out. A shiver ran down my spine as I closed down the thought.

“You were out cold,” she said. “I thought if the sound of the boards creaking and groaning didn't wake you up, then nothing would.”

I looked over to see cowboy boots and a hat, along with a plaid shirt and worn denim jeans. For Felicity, there was a fancy blue dress that shot out at the waist forming a pretty bell shape, and white elbow length gloves.

“They want us to play dress up?”

“It's not so bad,” Felicity said. “I think you'll like it. They said Hudson is even willing to loan you a gun if you want one, and the holster.”

“I don't know,” I protested. I hadn't planned on having to get gussied up. I was never big on formal wear or anything that involved costumes, outside of Halloween. I'd always pretended it was because I was just too cool for that kind of kid's stuff. The truth was, it reminded me of getting dressed up to go to my mom's funeral after she died of cancer. Moto wasn't with us then, it was just my dad and me. I'd never worn a collared shirt and tie before that day. It made me feel like I was choking. We'd never gone to church. The slacks felt too slick on the wooden pew, and the shoes felt like they were biting into my feet. I could feel everyone staring at me, but I was lost and in shock, unable to believe she was really gone. After that, Dad got religious all of a sudden and I had to go to church every week – at least until Yoshi Ishimoto showed up on our front door step, demanding answers.

“Just try it on and see you how feel,” Felicity pleaded.

After making a big fuss about it, I ended up doing just that. Surprisingly, the outfit was far more comfortable than I'd imagined it would be.

“I feel like I'm in a Spaghetti Western,” I complained.

“Nonsense,” Felicity swore. “You look very handsome. In fact, I think you should consider keeping the boots and hat when we finally leave. They look good on you. Real good.”

She wasted no time slipping on her sparkly new dress, and managed to make it look amazing without even trying. That part didn't surprise me. She always looked good, even when covered in filth fleeing a zombie horde.

I turned and pointed my finger at her like it was a gun.

“Meet me at high noon, partner,” I said through gritted teeth. “Last one standing wins!”

“I think you're ready now,” Felicity said, looking happier than I'd seen her in months. “I can't wait to try out my new accent.”

“What about Sonya?”

“What about her?” Felicity sounded confused by the question.

“Should we invite her along for the night? I mean, we don't want to arouse any suspicion.”

The words were barely out of my mouth before the door burst open. Standing in the doorway, outfitted in a dress that matched Felicity's in all but its pale yellow color, was Sonya. She'd pinned up the bottom to keep it from dragging, which revealed the dirty old pair of men's work boots on her feet. She had torn off the shoulders of her dress to allow her arms more movement. Her hair was pinned up into a pile of fierce coils going off wildly in every direction from the crown of her head. Her intense green eyes danced back and forth between us as a smirk formed on her lips.

“I thought you'd never ask,” she announced. “Gotta love these old wooden houses, but they do get cold in the winter. I'm guessing these here on the end are unoccupied because they're not properly insulated. In fact, if you stand out on the street you can pretty much hear everything a person is saying inside. It's almost like the sound is magnified, the way the houses are backed into the rock, like an amphitheater.”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Felicity gulp.

“Well?” Sonya stared at us, her smile flickering. “What are we waiting for? Let's get going!”

She turned and stomped loudly off the porch while Felicity and I stared after her in stunned silence. She'd been listening to us the whole time!

Chapter Thirteen

“Gold? That's what's in them thar hills?” one of the townsfolk raucously bellowed while coming out of his house. He was dressed up like a dirty prospector, with a pickax over his shoulder and a three-day-old beard covering his grimy face. He stumbled past us in a fake display of drunkenness; the sweet smell of apple juice belied his intoxicated performance, wafting up from his moonshine jug and tickling our noses. He let out a practiced hiccup, and trudged on in search of a more receptive audience.

Felicity was marching toward Main Street, face red, steam coming out of her ears, with Sonya and me in tow, racing to catch up. I'd barely had time to grab my katana before chasing the girls out the door. I slung it over my back with the strap in front, pulled the cowboy hat over my head, and charged after them.

“Wait up!” I shouted, but the girls both ignored me.

All around us Gold Strike City had come to life, as townsfolk bustled to and fro in pioneer garb, each giving their own version of an Old West performance. The improvisational nature of the event resulted in a variety of accents, blended wardrobes that included modern comforts like sneakers, and worst of all, an explosion of hackneyed stereotypes bursting to life in canned monologues. Whenever one performer would stop another would start, and everyone would shift their attention to them, letting them bask in the warm glow of an audience eager to be easily pleased. No one seemed to be concerned with capturing anything more than the spirit of the Old West.

“Hold on a second,” I shouted once more. “Felicity Jane! Stop!”

She froze dead in her tracks at the sound of her name, but didn't turn around.

“We can't go on like this,” I pleaded. “It's time we asked her for the truth.”

“Ask me anything,” Sonya offered. “I will tell you what I can.”

“Okay,” Felicity said, wheeling around with blazing eyes. “Why were you eavesdropping on us?”

“I told you,” Sonya patiently answered, “I was just coming to see if you wanted to go to the festival. I didn't mean to overhear all the horrible things you had to say about me.”

The girls began moving slowly closer to one another, eyes locked and unblinking. Something in me told me it was best to back away before the fur started flying.

“Well, as long as the cat's out of the bag, so to speak,” Felicity started.

“So to speak,” Sonya mimicked her right down to the angle of her head and folded arms.

“Let's hear it then. How did you know that Xander was at Hellfire?”

“I was following him,” Sonya said plainly. Felicity looked like her eyes were going to pop out of her head at hearing the confession.

“So you admit it!” Felicity roared.

“I never said I wasn't,” Sonya spat back. “You never bothered to ask me if I was. In fact, you haven't bothered to ask me anything about who I am. You just started hurling accusations and plotting against me.”

Despite the truth of her words, Felicity didn't back down an inch.

“So why were you following him? Tell me that.”

“I was asked to follow him and keep an eye on him,” Sonya explained.

Up until then I'd been an innocent spectator in the exchange, watching it all like a bad soap opera drama on daytime television. The words were out of my mouth before I even realized I was speaking.

“By whom?”

The girls turned on me, shouting in stereo.

“Stay out of this!”

I recoiled at their outburst, but they didn't seem to notice. Both had already turned back, resuming the stare down contest in which they'd previously been engaged, as if they'd never left off for a second.

“Who told you to follow him?”

“I can't tell you that,” Sonya said matter-of-factly. I could see the color in Felicity's face turn an even darker shade of red.

“And just why can't you tell us, Sonya?”

“Because,” she breathed out with a heavy sigh, “I made a promise that I wouldn't.”

“To the person who asked you to spy on Xander?”

“That's right,” Sonya said sanctimoniously. “And I always keep my promises, even if right now I'm starting to wish I didn't.”

“How convenient,” Felicity sneered. “So this person who's asked you to follow my husband around doesn't want us to know who he is? Can you see how maybe we'd have a problem with that?”

“You're twisting everything up” Sonya said, exasperated. “He does want you to know why he was following you, why he's been keeping tabs on your movements. He just wants to tell you himself when it's safe.”

“Well that makes me feel so much better,” Felicity replied, her words dripping with sarcasm.

“He doesn't want to hurt Xander,” Sonya explained. “In fact, he holds him in the highest regard as a warrior. He's proud of the man Xander has become. He talks about it all the time in fact. There. That's more than I should have said. You'll just have to hear the rest from him.”

“If he thinks so highly of Xander, then why did he send an assassin to monitor his every movement? Explain that to me.”

“Let's just get this out of the way once and for all,” Sonya said, leaning in toward Felicity and gritting her teeth. “I am not an assassin or a fugitive. I have done nothing wrong. I was set up to take the fall for the death of a great man, with no way left to tell my side of the story. There are powerful forces at work here that you don't understand. You're only seeing one small part of the picture. Trust me, things have gotten a lot more complicated since you moved out to the middle of nowhere.”

“So the military thinks you're a killer and a fugitive from justice, but it's all just a big misunderstanding?”

“The military isn't perfect now, is it? Just this morning I recall you and your husband being chained and sent off to be tried for crimes you didn't commit. I'd have thought by now you'd have figured that out.”

“Who set you up?”

“I can't tell you that either,” Sonya acknowledged. “Not yet anyway. Look, I know this is hard, but you're just going to have to trust me for now. It's all going to make sense very soon.”

“When you deliver us to your boss for your ransom? I don't think so.”

“He's not my boss,” Sonya grinned. “He's my partner. And he would never hurt a hair on either one of your heads. In fact, if it wasn't for him sending me to keep watch over you, Xander would be heading back to New Lompoc right now on the back of a motorcycle and in the hands of a ruthless gang of degenerates.”

“Bet that threw a wrench into your big plans,” Felicity taunted, trying to bait her into contradicting herself or giving up more information. I could tell by the calm way Sonya carried herself that it wasn't going to work. She was only going to give us enough to get us to go along, if that. We'd have to make up our own minds from there on whether or not we could put our faith in her.

“If anything, I thought it would make you trust me,” Sonya protested. “Why would I run into the arms of the people who are trying to set me up for murder and have me killed, other than to save your husbands life? You've got me all figured out? Tell me that.”

“People do a lot of strange things when they're fleeing for their lives,” Felicity smirked. “Maybe you thought you could slip into Freedom Town and blend in, force us to let our guard down so you could continue whatever your real plan is. How should I know?”

“I risked my life for him,” she said, sounding hurt for the first time. “I could have left him there, but I stuck my neck out to make sure no harm came to him.”

“So what? You want a thank you? Is that it?”

“A little appreciation would be nice, sure,” Sonya fired back. “If that's not too much to ask. It's what normal people do when someone saves their life.”

I fought back the urge to interrupt again, still stinging from my last rebuke.

“What's normal?” Felicity laughed. She waved her arms about for a moment, looking like she'd lost all sanity. I gazed around to see if anyone else was watching this tense standoff, but no one was. They were all lost in their own personal performances, like a crowded stage full of bit actors all fighting for the spotlight, and good-naturedly trying to outcompete one another. A roar of laughter and applause exploded to the left of us, as a man dressed like a cowboy finished an impressive rope trick. The girls didn't seem to notice. As far as they were concerned, they were the only two people in the world in that moment.

“You tell me,” Sonya said, softening for the first time as she saw the pain in Felicity's eyes. “Go on.”

“Normal is waking up to the screams of your favorite student, while the monster that used to be one of your husbands closest friends rips her to pieces less than a hundred feet from where you sleep at night,” Felicity began. A single tear streaked silently down her face. “Normal is worrying every second of every day that each time you say goodbye to the people you love might be the last time you see them. Normal is finding out that there is a price on your husband’s head, that outlaws and bikers are hunting you down for the honor of cashing in on a reward, that the people you've trusted to protect you all along now think you're working in concert with the enemy to destroy everything you've worked so hard to build! That's what's normal now. So you'll have to forgive me if I don't trust you or believe that your intentions are good, just because you say so. And until you're willing to be open and honest about who sent you and why they sent you, I don't see any reason to change my mind.”

A nearby gaggle of onlookers burst into applause as Felicity ran out of wind. She flushed red and opened her mouth to speak, holding her index finger as if to announce her first point of defense, but they were already gone, pulled into an improv of a panhandler fighting off several bloodthirsty Indians that had just begun running up the path. Sonya saw the frustration in Felicity burning off to reveal what was hiding underneath – fear. Felicity looked terrified for a split second, then seemed to regain control of her emotions as she turned back to face Sonya.

“I know it's been hard for you,” Sonya started, but Felicity wasn't ready to accept pity from her enemy for fear of letting down her guard.

“Don't patronize me. You don't know the first thing about it! Or us, for that matter!”

“I guess you'll just have to ride it out then,” Sonya replied with a resigned look. “You'll see for yourself that I'm telling the truth soon enough.”

“Why doesn't that make me feel any better?”

“I know you're probably not going to believe this either,” Sonya responded, looking sad. “But I was really looking forward to meeting you. I had this image in my mind, you know, of us getting along, sharing stories like sisters.”

Felicity crossed her arms stubbornly and snorted, causing Sonya to falter, but Sonya picked back up again where she'd left off, doing her best to hide her hurt feelings.

“Things got all mixed up when the Alphas grabbed Xander,” Sonya explained. “I had to act fast so he wouldn't be harmed any more than he already had been.”

I reached up and rubbed the back of my head, feeling the small bump from where I'd been clubbed. It hurt to press on it, sending a dull wave of pain crashing over my forehead and making me wince.

“We may be stuck together for the time being, but that doesn't make us allies. Stay away from me and my husband.”

Felicity grabbed my hand, acknowledging my presence for the first time since she'd lashed out at me. She pulled me away, off toward the bustling saloon in the distance. I jogged to keep up with her angry pace, waiting until she'd relaxed her grip to pull my hand free. The closer we got to the saloon the louder it got until we reached the door, where a deafening roar was held back by two wooden boards on hinges. Felicity shot through it without a second thought, eager to join the sea of distractions inside. I turned and looked back at Sonya. She stared at us with a quixotic smile before a band of jugglers crossed our path, obscuring her from view.

Chapter Fourteen

Inside the cramped space of the saloon another world existed, like something out of one of Benji's old comic books. Adults in various costumes hooted and sang and danced with one another, laughing and crying and arguing the whole time. There was a bar with volunteers working overtime to serve up some kind of bright yellow fluid that glowed an eerie shade of neon when the light caught it. Hudson, the Marshal, was waiting for his slug of the toxic-looking stuff at the end of the bar. He was dressed in his best Wyatt Earp costume, but instead of cowboy boots he had on comfortable-looking slip-on Vans, white and blue, with a fierce-looking wave crashing dead in the middle of his toes. He had a foot up on the rail and was leaning his body on the heavy oak, spinning a yarn for a very bored old man in a dusty prospectors outfit. Mid-sentence he turned his head, saw us, and did a double take. His face lit up, as he abandoned his obviously relieved friend, and stumbled toward us with excitement shining in his glassy eyes.

“You made it!” he roared, sloshing some of what was in his cup onto his outfit.

“What is that stuff?” I asked.

“Prickly pear cactus fruit beer,” he replied, absentmindedly brushing it off his soiled costume. He began to rub at a particularly stubborn stain spreading across his stomach, but it was no use. The liquid had already gone through the fabric, and there was no getting it out.  He gave up with a shrug and turned his attention fully back to us. “We sweeten it with honey when we can get our hands on it, or stevia from the herb garden when we can't.”

“I thought you said alcohol wasn't allowed in Gold Strike?” Felicity questioned, looking nervous at the idea of being surrounded by a bunch of drunks at a bar.

It makes sense, I thought. She's technically a recovering addict. The last thing she wants to worry about is being peer pressured by a bunch of drunks into relapsing.

I gazed around at the merry revelers, wondering how many of them would insist on doing shots with the famous Felicity Jane, then turned my attention back to her. She looked anxious, but also a little excited. It had been a long time since we'd seen anything like a celebration, at least since our wedding day at the chapel on the base, and even then it wasn't as spirited as the saloon was turning out to be. I knew there was a part of her that wanted to join in the fun, to cut loose for one night and not worry about little things like being eaten alive by a crowd of walking corpses or having to foil some plot against us by dark forces. I totally understood. I felt the exact same way. I was even curious to taste a sip of the cactus beer, once we'd settled in. For now, it was just important that she felt safe.

“Under normal circumstances, it isn't,” Hudson explained, sounding serious for a moment before knocking back the rest of the contents of his cup. He smiled genially at us. “But during the festival we tend to look the other way. People have a need deep down inside their guts, sewn right into them, to cut loose from time to time. That's just nature.”

“What if something goes wrong while your town is plastered?” I asked. “How will you defend yourselves?”

I wasn't trying to play devil's advocate, or trying to curry favor with my wife; although after how things had just gone between Felicity and Sonya I figured I could stand to let her know I was on her side, ready to defend her. The truth was, I didn't think it was safe to have a town full of intoxicated people with no warriors on watch. I understood as well as anyone the need for some kind of release. It was a question I had struggled with back in Freedom Town, especially on nights I knew the moonshiners were sneaking around.

“Cactus beer doesn't have much kick in it,” he said with a wink. “It's not much stronger than your average nonalcoholic beer was back before Z Day. You'd have to drink a whole mess of the stuff to catch a buzz that would last more than an hour. If you make it into mead, now that is a different story.”

“Still,” I said, trying to knock down the defensive tone in my voice, “you gotta stay prepared for emergencies, don't you?”

He leaned forward and clumsily put his hand on my shoulder, hiccuping as he spoke.

“Relax,” he said, long and slow. I could smell the fermented cactus on his breath; he was that close to me now. “It's all under control. I know you've been through a whole heck of a lot before you got here, but you're safe now. You can chill out now. Take a load off. Give yourself a break. It's not good to live in constant fear, son. The mind can't handle it. Every now and then you need to check out for a bit, let yourself go all Hotel California, if you know what I mean, as a preventive measure so you don't lose your sanity.”

I turned my head to see Felicity taking in his words. She seemed to agree. I could see the tension melting away from her neck and shoulders, as the smile bloomed on her face.

It's not his inebriated manner that's convincing her, I thought, it's the truth of what he's saying. We've been going so hard for so long, with no room for error. We've paid a heavy price for making the tiniest of mistakes. We've become anxious, scared, defensive, and closed off – but we've had to do that to survive! We haven't had a choice. Maybe now we finally can let go, even just for one night, and allow ourselves to recover.

I turned back to Hudson at the same time he took his hand off my shoulder.

“Besides, we've got a state of the art warning system…remember? We'll know way in advance if something is headed our way; we’ll have more than enough time to do something about it. This ain't our first rodeo, kid, if you know what I mean.”

He gave us both a big, slow, deliberate wink. Felicity let out a laugh at his ridiculous show. She hugged him and gave him a big kiss on the cheek.

“Thanks,” she said.

Hudson looked at me in embarrassment. He was totally taken off guard by Felicity’s sudden show of emotion. He reached up and held his hat on his head with his right hand, as if he was worried it might just fly off against his will.

“What was that for?” he stuttered.

“For everything,” Felicity said.

Before he could recover, Bad Bart came up behind us, grabbing both Felicity and me in a big bear hug, and lifting us off the ground.

“You made it!” he howled, squeezing us with so much genuine happiness I thought my ribs might crack. Just as quickly as he'd swooped us up, he set us back on our feet again. I panted for a moment, catching my breath. He patted me on the back, gently this time, looking concerned.

“You okay, Xander?”

“Yeah,” I managed at last, pulling deep breaths into my lungs again. “You just surprised me is all.”

“Sorry about that, buddy,” he said, looking nervously from Hudson to Felicity.

He's huge, I thought, doing my best to recover and hide my shame at being snuck up on, even by an ally. It's a good thing he's on our side. He'd make a nightmare of an enemy fighting one on one, and a terrifying zombie.

“Xander?” I looked up at Felicity and cleared my throat.

“I'm fine,” I protested. “Just swallowed, that’s all.”

“Good,” Hudson said, jumping back in. “Now who wants a cup of Gold Strike’s finest? My treat!”

“I'll pass,” Felicity said, almost too quickly.

“Me too,” Bad Bart added. “I like to keep sharp, just in case trouble comes a-knocking.” He gave me a look.

“Glad to hear it,” I said, actually feeling a little relieved to know someone wouldn't be imbibing.

“I wouldn't mind taking you for a whirl on the dance floor though,” Bart said, holding his hand out to Felicity. I heard the sound of a banjo doing a solo, then another joined in. Bart and Felicity turned to me at the same time. “If that's okay with her husband, of course.”

“Sure,” I shrugged. “Sounds like fun.”

Felicity practically squealed at the thought of being able to cut loose. She'd told me more than once about how she used to love to go dancing back before Z Day hit. And about how she'd hated having paparazzi following her around clubs, so she had dressed up in disguise and gone out to regular clubs from time to time, actually waiting in line with everyone else and paying to get in. It felt good to see her finally getting the chance to get some of that out, even in this unexpected way. She took Bad Bart's hand and they moved toward the sound of the music. The crowd parted slightly for them, revealing the full band. There were indeed two banjo players as well as a violin, an acoustic guitar, a washboard, and a guy with a jug. People gathered around, as Bad Bart and Felicity Jane set to dancing a jig. Soon others were joining in. A lanky guy in a red lumberjack's flannel, with a thin, patchwork beard, began calling out an old square dance song. Soon they were all swapping partners every few moves, slapping their thighs, and shouting out along with the announcer. Felicity's face beamed with joy. She seemed to radiate that same quality she'd had when we first met. It was amazing, like watching a wilted flower coming back to life before my eyes.

“Looks like she fits right in,” Hudson said, “doesn't she?”

“It sure does,” I agreed, thinking about what she'd said back up on the ridge about it being a town full of actors.

He put his hand on my shoulder again. I turned to see a serious look creeping back into his face.

The beer must be wearing off, I thought. He was right. The buzz didn't seem to last too long. Wonder if it leaves a headache, like champagne?

“Well,” he said, taking in a deep breath and puffing up his chest as he returned to his more official voice from earlier, the one that sounded like the trusted Sheriff in an old John Wayne movie. “Now that the misses is settled in and safe, let's take a little walk.”

“I don't know,” I shot back. “I don't want to leave her.”

“She'll be fine,” Hudson assured me. “She's in good hands with Bart. He'd give his life to keep her safe, same as you. Besides, I’ve got a proposition for you and I'd appreciate it if you heard me out.”

I turned and looked at Felicity again. She smiled and waved at me, already lost in the fun. I waved back just in time for her to see it before a fresh round of 'swing your partner round and round' began and she was swept up into the group dance once more.

“Okay,” I said, turning back to Hudson. “Let's talk then.”

We walked outside. It was much quieter once the saloon doors shut behind us, leaving the loud confined space sealed. There were still people performing monologues in the streets.

“Follow me,” Hudson said, setting off at a quick pace through the crowds toward the houses on the hill. I stood rooted in place and watched him go, unsure about leaving Felicity behind, even for a moment. Hudson stopped when he realized I wasn't with him. He turned back with an easy smile. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

I hesitated.

“Where are you taking me?”

“You still don't trust me?”

“It's not that,” I said. “I just don't like leaving her out of my sight is all.”

“I understand,” he said. “I wanted you to see our grow operation. Get a feel for how we sustain ourselves. It's just at the end of the block, near my house.”

I stood rooted in place, torn by indecision. Something inside of me felt funny, like there was a trick happening I couldn't figure out. It wasn't that I didn't trust Hudson. I did. I owed him my life. There was just this unsettled feeling in my stomach I couldn't shake, as if something was coming.

You're being paranoid, I told myself. You're going to have to learn to let go.

“Sorry,” I said, starting to follow him at last. “It's been a rough couple of days. I'm still a little shaken up.”

“You can say that again,” Hudson laughed. “You've been through hell in a hand basket…and that's just since I first laid eyes on you. I can't imagine what horrors you've seen out there.”

“Plenty,” I offered. I was now walking side by side with him. I could see the glass panels of the grow house in the distance. We were moving right toward them. “I ran into enough trouble in the last forty-eight hours to last me a lifetime.”

“That's part of what I wanted to talk to you about,” Hudson responded, sounding nervous for the first time. “What exactly happened with those military guys? And what's the deal with your spirited friend?”

Friend? What is he talking about?

I stared at him, obviously confused by his last question.

“I mean the pretty one with the horse riding skills,” Hudson clarified. “What's her deal?”

“I'm not quite sure, to be honest,” I admitted. It actually felt good to be getting it out with an impartial third party. The truth was, I was more confused about Sonya than ever. On the one hand, she'd saved my life. On the other, she was a wanted fugitive who wouldn't tell us who she was working for. Worst of all, it was clear that Felicity hated her. I didn't see that changing any time soon, not with the way things had been going. I glanced around quickly to make sure she wasn't nearby or following us, then dropped my voice to just above a whisper.

“The truth is, I'm still trying to figure her out.”

“It doesn't look like your woman is having such a hard time, if you don't mind me saying so. She seems to have her mind all made up when it comes to Sonya.”

“You can say that again,” I agreed. “They've been like two alley cats shoved in a burlap sack fighting over a mouse carcass ever since they met.”

Hudson grinned at my analogy.

“Does that make you the mouse?”

“Something like that I guess,” I said, shaking my head. “Anyway I'm not sure it matters anymore. Felicity made it really clear earlier that she doesn't want Sonya joining us for the rest of our trip.”

“Because of the military?”

“In part,” I said. “There's more to it than that, but I'm not sure I want to get into it with you just now. You've been more than an accommodating host. I'd hate to burden you with our problems.”

We reached the grow house and Hudson swung the door open, inviting me in. Inside, the air was hot and moist. Flowers grew in rows, along with tomatoes, cucumbers, sunflowers, broccoli, and other green leafy things I couldn't name off the top of my head. I walked down the first aisle fighting back the urge to reach my hand out and touch all the plants. I hadn't seen anything like it since I was a kid visiting the hardware store with my dad and I'd wandered off to the nursery. It was incredible, like a small oasis.

“Well? What do you think?”

“It's amazing,” I said without hesitation. “I can't believe you got all this stuff to grow in the middle of nowhere.”

“All credit goes to our founder,” Hudson said.

“Teddy Duds,” I parroted back.

“He was a great man. He gave us a blueprint that we've done our best to maintain. That's all.”

“You just leave this placed unlocked?” It seemed impossible that people didn’t sneak in and help themselves to a taste.

“That's right,” Hudson promptly said.

“How do you keep it all from disappearing?” I thought back to Freedom Town, all the trouble I had with townsfolk deciding they were special and that the rules didn't apply to them. I'd come to think of it as being a part of human nature, the desire to take more than your fair share and justify it later. The idea that a place existed where people did what was best for everyone out of the goodness of their own hearts was about as far-fetched as the idea of a heaven filled with halo wearing winged angels sitting on fluffy white clouds all day playing harps.

“I don't understand,” he said, shaking his head. “We maintain it in shifts. Everyone pitches in around here. Sure there are people who specialize in things, like Bart or the blacksmith, but that doesn't mean we don't all pull our weight. Even the young ones have chores. So far I haven't had any complaints, except from my head of Indian Affairs, Big Chief Pain-in-the-Ass. He's always got a wooden nickel’s worth of advice to add, but he don't mean no harm by it. He's just a contrarian at heart, I think.”

“I mean, how do you keep people from just sneaking in and taking what they want when no one is looking? It's not like there is a lock on the door.”

Hudson smiled, as if he was expecting me to tell him I was just kidding. When I didn't, I saw something flash in his eyes for a moment. It looked like pity.

“Shucks,” he said, taking off his hat for the first time to reveal a bead of sweat forming on his brow. “No one here would do anything like that. It'd be a scandal. Besides, everyone would know right away who did it, now wouldn't they?”

That didn't seem to stop Tyler and the others back in Freedom Town, I thought.

“I can't imagine having to live like that,” he added, “worrying all the time about my neighbors.”

“Then you're luckier than you know,” I laughed, but he didn't join in.

“I'm sorry you've had it so rough,” he said in earnest. “It's hard enough fighting zombies without having to battle against each other.”

“That's how things are now,” I said matter-of-factly. “You get used to it.”

“I hope I never have to,” Hudson disagreed. We stared at each other in uncomfortable silence for such a long time that it made me want to jump out of my skin and run screaming down Main Street. He spoke first.

“Whew! It's hotter than a bonfire in the middle of July in here. Let's get back out where we can catch a breeze before they find us melted away to nothing but puddles.”

I was glad to have a reason to move on. I didn't want to think about what he'd said. It made me sad and angry at the same time, but it wasn't his fault. It was just how things were. And wishing they would change was a waste of time.

I followed Hudson outside, but we didn't head back right away to the saloon. I could still hear the far-off sound of music coming from it, along with hooting and shouting and laughing. I didn't see any cause for alarm. Hudson walked up a dirt trail that snaked up toward the row of houses against the mountains. I didn't hesitate this time. We reached the top and sat on the ledge, looking out over Gold Strike City and the darkness beyond. The stars shone bright, and a sense of calm came over me. There was just something comforting about Hudson's presence as we sat there. I could see why the townspeople kept him on as Marshal. He'd either been born for the role, or become it along the way.

“I know you've just gotten here and are still getting your bearings,” Hudson said at last, breaking the silence. “But I was wondering if you and your lady have given any thought to what comes next. What I mean is, what are your plans?”

There was no reason to lie to him. He'd done everything in his power to make us feel at ease.

“It's still a little fuzzy,” I admitted. “The truth is, we're in a bit of an awkward situation.”

“I figured as much when I found you in shackles,” he said in a soft, comforting voice. I absentmindedly rubbed my wrists at the thought.

“We need to get back to the base in Hueneme,” I said. “My brother will be worried about me.”

“Won't they just lock you up again once you get there?”

“Maybe,” I admitted, realizing he was right. I hadn't given much thought to what came next after we arrived. “But Moto will be able to sort it out. He's the highest-ranking officer there, since General Conrad died anyway. They'll have to listen to him.”

“Sounds like a risky plan,” Hudson said. “Just getting to him will be a challenge. You'll have to cover a lot of dangerous ground between here and there.”

“Don't remind me,” I said, a note of sarcasm creeping back into my voice. “I'm trying not to think about it.”

“Well, what if you didn't have to go?”

I turned and gave him a hard look.

Here it comes, I thought. He's going to give me the big pitch now.

I thought back to John giving me a similar speech in New Lompoc, trying to convince me to join his band of white supremacists in their fight against the Unity Gang. John had a charismatic nature to him and a voice like melted butter when he wanted something from you. That all vanished like dew in the heat of the morning sun as soon as you told him no, and out came the angry, vengeful tyrant willing to sacrifice anyone or anything to get his way. In the end, John had been a coward who'd left his best men behind to die in a zombie horde when they needed him most, fleeing to save his own life and running down anyone who got in his way. The Marshal didn't seem anything like that at all, and neither did the people we'd met. Still, I was wary of people trying to sell me their version of what I should be or how I fit into their grand design for the future. I braced myself for a big pitch, feeling a knot tighten in my stomach.

“Hold on now,” Hudson said, waving his hands defensively. “Hear me out. You owe me at least that much.”

“I'm listening,” I said unconvincingly.

“What if you and Felicity were to stay here for a while.”

I shook my head no before he even finished speaking.

“Just a minute,” he argued. “I'm not talking about a permanent living situation. I'm just talking about taking a break until you can both get back on your feet. That's all. You look worn through, and she seems about ready to snap. It'd just be temporary, and it'd give you more time to work out a plan.”

“I'm sorry,” I said, standing up again. My defenses came up like a steel wall shutting him out. “That's not going to work.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve already told you,” I said, the anger starting to show through again as the feeling of being tired crashed back over me, making my eyes burn. “I need to get back to Hueneme. For all I know, my brother thinks we're both dead. He's probably worried sick. I can't even imagine what went through his mind when that train rolled in without us on it, much less when they told him the train had been ambushed by a zombie horde and they left without us. If it was me I'd be planning a rescue right now, or at least a search party.”

“What if we sent word to Hueneme that you were okay?”

I stopped and let the words sink in. The thought had never occurred to me.

“How?”

“We've got experienced riders,” he said calmly, still sitting, his body language relaxed and cool like we were two old friends having a heated debate about our favorite sports team. “They can take him a message, let him know where you are and what condition you're in. Unlike you, they won't have to worry about being taken prisoner by the military. All they'll have to do is stay ahead of the zombies.”

I thought about Bad Bart and his gang. Would they be able to take word to Moto? And what would happen then? Would an armed escort arrive and take us back into custody?

“I don't know,” I said, feeling skittish at the idea, but wanting to believe it would work. “What about Sonya?”

“What about her?”

“Will she be staying too?”

“That's a choice she'll have to make for herself,” Hudson said, “but something tells me she won't be hanging around long, no matter what happens. She's clearly got her own mission in mind. Besides, it's not like she would fit in here the way you and Felicity already do.”

“Don't you have to put it to a town vote or anything?”

“Not exactly,” he said. “You will have to sign up for weekly chores and pitch in, but I don't see that as much of a problem. You can even keep the house you're in now for the time being.”

“We'd have to work on patching up the holes,” I said absentmindedly as I considered his proposal for the first time. It wasn't just a good offer, it was a great one – almost too good to be true.

“What's the catch?”

“I don't understand,” he said. “What do you mean?”

“Why would you want us to stay here with you? What's in it for you?”

“Not everyone thinks of life in those terms, Xander,” he said, sounding a little sad to have to explain it to me. “You two just seem like a good addition to our little town. As an actress in a town full of performers, Felicity fits right in. And you're strong, and loyal, and brave. Plus you know a lot about running things. You could come work for me if you like. I could use an assistant deputy to keep things running smooth.”

“I thought you said you could trust people here,” I argued. “Why do you need another deputy?”

“Oh it's not for protection or enforcing rules or anything like that,” he chuckled. “I meant for helping manage town affairs, although I'm sure you'd be great in some of our performances too. I’ve got a good feeling about you. I’ll bet you could put on one hell of a show with that blade. I think Greg even has an old Samurai costume locked away in his stuff somewhere. The kids would go nuts for that!”

“I could teach them self defense as well,” I said, feeling my guard come back down as the idea of sticking around began to set in. “Not to mention Tai Chi. Felicity was a teacher back in Freedom Town. She was really good at it too.”

“We'd be more than happy to have her join our school,” he said warmly. “So what do you say?”

I looked back down at the town below as I thought over what he was suggesting. Everyone was laughing and having fun. They moved in big circles from performance to performance like they were taking in all the attractions at a traveling carnival.

These are good people, I thought. And we really could use a break, just to catch our breath. Plus he makes a good point. If we try to go straight to the base we might not be able to get to Moto before we're taken back into custody. Who knows? They might even blame us for more stuff that we didn't do, like helping Sonya spring us from the train. And it sorta solves the problem with trusting Sonya as well. Whatever her plans for us are, I'm sure they don't include sitting in an Old West town in the middle of nowhere. Even if she tells her “partner” where we are, the military will be here by then. Worst case scenario, we can sneak out of town if we have to and hightail it to safety without her ever knowing we'd gotten away.

“Okay,” I said at last. “We'll stay for now.”

Hudson practically jumped to his feet, his eyes dancing with excitement, as if he was drunk again on fermented prickly pear fruit.

“You serious? That's great news! The others will be so happy.”

“I've gotta ask my wife still,” I warned, backtracking on my original answer just slightly. The truth was after the conversation we'd had in our noisy wooden love nest earlier, I was sure Felicity would be thrilled. She'd all but said the same thing Hudson was saying, nearly word for word.

“Of course,” Hudson quickly said. “It's only right for a man to consult his wife.”

“I think she'll be an easy sell. It makes sense what you said, and it solves a number of problems in the equation I've been wrestling with.”

“I'm sure she'll agree,” Hudson said confidently. “You just have to explain it to her is all. I'll help if you like.”

“Thanks, but I don't think that will be necessary,” I said with a smile. I was really warming up to the idea of having a few days to catch my breath. “I'm pretty sure she'll want to stay. After all, a town full of actors and artists all practicing their trade is about as close to paradise as she's gonna find this side of Heaven.”

“I can't wait to see her face when you tell her,” Hudson said, looking like a kid on Christmas morning unwrapping all his presents to find he's gotten everything on his list, more than the guy in charge of law and order in a small town. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” I said. I really liked him. He was one of the most genuine people I'd met since Z Day, and that meant something to me, especially after all the people I'd met who were hell bent on doing us harm or forcing us to be part of their evil designs. “Let's go right now and tell her the good news. She's going to be relieved to see Sonya go. You're right about that.”

He wasn't looking at me anymore. The smile had gone from his face along with all the color in it. His eyes were locked on the horizon.

“That ain't right,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper.

I turned to look back down at the town. Everything looked the same to me. People were still caught up in their performances. Quickly my eyes jumped to the saloon. It was still there in one piece, looking as solid as when we'd left. I looked back across the crowds to make sure there were no zombies among them. Not a thing looked out of place. I could feel the panic rising up in me, but I didn't know why. Hudson just stared slack jawed into the distance. I turned and followed his line of sight until I saw it. Off in the distance there was a huge plume of black smoking rising up in the sky. It coiled up in thick black tendrils like shadowy fabric climbing toward the stars and obscuring the moon.

“What is it?” Hudson's voice was low and filled with apprehension. “What's out that way?”

“Freedom Town,” I said with a gulp. It was the only thing that made sense. We were too far away to see Barstow, and I couldn't imagine any other towns close by. Something must have happened there since we left.

“Look,” Hudson said, pointing a finger toward the defensive fence line down at the edge of town where we'd come in.

“What is it?” I asked, trying to adjust my eyes. There were figures moving in the dark, but I couldn't make them out.

“There's somebody down there,” he said, growing more agitated as he spoke.

“I can't make them out,” I said. “What are they doing?”

“They're cutting the barbed wire fencing,” he said, disgust rising in his voice. “They're taking down our defenses, leaving the gate wide open for someone to drive right on in!”

“But who would do that?”

I didn't have to wait long for an answer. The wind shifted, and I heard them coming from somewhere close by. The familiar sound of motorcycles reached my ears, and my mouth fell open.

“They've found us,” I said in shock, feeling the dread descend back over me like a scratchy old coat that I'd grown used to wearing.

“Who found you? Who are they, and what do they want?”

“Alphas,” I said.  “They've come to collect the bounty on my head.”

Before he could respond, I pulled my katana from my back and began running down toward the commotion as fast as my legs would carry me, the uncomfortable cowboy boots pinching my feet the whole way.

Chapter Fifteen

By the time I reached the bottom of the hill and began charging back toward the saloon, the entire town was in chaos. Greasy-looking bikers raced through the streets throwing Molotov cocktails into wooden buildings, and setting them ablaze like dry kindling. The sound of women and children screaming was drowned out by the roaring of loud engines as the motorcycles greedily revved their motors, sending a cacophony of echoing chaos reverberating off the mountain walls.

A near deafening crack erupted in front of me, and the smell of gunpowder filled the air as the crowd parted. A man dressed up in a shiny red vest and a bowler, who was staring at his pocket watch through a monocle, slowly began falling to his knees. He'd been halfway through a spirited performance when the godless savages descended over the streets of Gold Strike City. His finger trembled like the bare branches of a tree caught in a violent windstorm. A red rose blossomed onto the front of his white shirt near his heart where he'd been shot. His mouth moved rapidly, but no sound emerged as he pitched forward. I rushed ahead to catch him before he face-planted into the dirt. He whispered in my ear, his voice barely audible over the unholy din of the bikers.

“Give this to Sarah,” he pleaded. “She is and always has been my one true love.”

Without another word he collapsed, the weight of his lifeless body dragging him from my arms onto his back where he stared up peacefully at me, his unblinking eyes already clouding over with death. I looked up just in time to see a bike bearing down on me, the rider wildly swinging a spiked metal ball on a chain. Adrenaline shot through me as I realized I was in his path and I rolled out of the way, feeling the whoosh of air as the weapon missed its intended target – my head. Curses rang out behind me as the biker passed, angry that I'd managed to avoid the impact of his lethal toy. He nearly crashed as he wrangled his bike around to make another pass in my direction, flashing a row of blackened teeth the color of wet coal. He roared his engine to life and took off toward me once more, looking completely confident as he began whirling his mace into a repetitive loop in preparation of his impending attack. He parted his cracked lips and his brown tongue wagged, as he let out a series of high yelps for a war cry.

I glanced back down at the dirt where the shot man lay dying. By his side were two crying women, both the mirror image of one another. They wailed as they lifted him up to carry him off.

Those must be the Spooky Sisters, I thought. One of them looked up and caught my stare. There was anger and sadness and shock in her fierce gray eyes. The look seemed to say, don't let the men who are responsible for this get away with it. Fight back!

Suddenly I felt a terrible anger rise up in me like nothing I'd felt before. I was tired of being a victim. I was tired of running. Most of all, I was tired of seeing good people trampled by savage animals who didn't give a damn about those they hurt, as they continued to set the world on fire.

I turned and raised my sword, ready for battle. The Alpha riding on his chopper grinned at my invitation as he bore down on me. He seemed totally oblivious to the change that had just happened, but if I had anything to say about it he'd soon learn just what kind of mistake he'd made.

You woke a sleeping tiger, I thought, as I gripped my blade so hard my knuckles turned white. Now you're going to pay the price.

The motorcycle was nearly on top of me. I felt a rush of energy surge through me, and time seemed to slow down momentarily as everything became clear.

That's your adrenaline kicking in, I heard Moto's voice tell me in my head. In a fight or flight situation, the body kicks out a fat dose to keep your senses sharp. A foolish and unskilled warrior lets it overwhelm their senses, feeding their fear and causing panic, while an experienced and seasoned fighter learns to use it to their advantage.

The words spoken long ago in a Saturday afternoon training session flashed back clear as day to me as the biker came within striking distance. With the slightest pivot of my body I swung underneath the spinning metal ball as it careened past my head, touching not a single hair as it whizzed by. In an instant I saw the look of disappointment flare across my enemy’s face at missing once again. A split second later it froze in a mask of surprise as I brought my katana down, slicing his left arm clean off. The hand still holding the wooden stick twitched as it fell into the dusty road right next to where the old man had just been. The biker howled in pain, letting go of the chopper’s handlebars to clutch at his shoulder where his arm should have been – but instead was now raw flesh spurting blood like a fountain. The bike wobbled and fell over, crashing down with all of its weight on him and pinning him underneath. In no time, a ring of townspeople gathered around and began kicking and beating him mercilessly, while all he could do was cry out in pain.

I looked over to see both Spooky Sisters staring at me with pride in their eyes. There was no time to celebrate though, as we were still far from safe. A loud cracking sound rang out as I watched the General Store roof come crashing in, belching out a huge gust of black smoke and fiery red embers, just as I'd seen in my dream. I heard more screaming and a series of rolling booms in the distance, like someone unloading a shotgun.

I turned back toward the saloon to see the roof was now on fire as well. The doors burst open and townsfolk ran out screaming, right smack into a circle of bikers whooping and firing off their guns. A group of terrified women let out a unified shriek in harmony as they found themselves caught in the middle of the mayhem, unable to escape the eye of the storm. To make matters worse, a hail of gunfire that seemed to go on forever easily cut down the men that charged the bikers in an attempt to free the girls. I froze as a cold fear ran down my spine, searching the huddle for signs of Felicity, but she wasn't part of the quivering ball of women wailing in fear. There was also no sign of Bad Bart, not even among the fallen, one of which had died right at the entrance to the saloon, propping open the heavy wooden door with his corpse and giving me a view into a room that only moments before had resounded with laughter and merriment. Inside, bright yellow flames merrily danced where once people had moved to the music. The structure shook as the flames came licking out the front of the windows, leaving fresh stains of black as they withdrew like painted shadows.

“Felicity! Felicity Jane!”

Where is she? My mind raced. Nothing else mattered but finding her and getting to safety. I felt a creeping dread growing rapidly inside me like a time-lapse shot of paralyzing fungus.

I heard the sound of several bikes rumbling behind me. Whipping around, I saw three Alphas at the end of the main strip making their way to the heart of the action. Although they were bearing down on me, I didn't have time to jump clear. Holding my blade up as a warning I prepared to take a swing at them as they passed, but they swerved around me like a river rushing around a large stone. They shouted out as they shot by, the driven wind knocking my cowboy hat off and rustling my hair, but leaving me otherwise unscathed. A girl’s face floated into my field of vision for a moment, like a pale ghost. Her young face was covered in heavy makeup, making her look much older, but her eyes told a different story. Behind those eyes was a sadness that cut me to my soul. A spark of recognition fired in my brain and I realized that I knew the girl dressed in torn rags, clinging to the back of the lead Alpha for dear life, her tiny painted nails biting into his leather vest.

That's Janice Johnson, I thought in surprise. She looked like she'd aged by several years since the day I'd last seen her. A small part of me was just happy she was alive, that she hadn't been sold to Hellfire, or worse, eaten. My mind flashed to Stanley, remembering his angry, accusing eyes following me as I was taken away.

He may not even be alive anymore, I realized. For all I know, there is nothing left of Freedom Town but a pile of ashes.

The realization made my guts twist into knots. I'd poured my heart and soul into that colony, spent countless hours preparing and defending it. The thought that all could be wiped away in my absence, in under a day no less, made me physically sick to my stomach. I felt the anger start to bubble up again as I pictured the faces of all the people I'd grown to know and love. The mounting realization that they were almost certainly dead now, at the hands of the same people who were tormenting Gold Strike City, filled me with a fury that would only be quenched with blood.

I let out a war cry from the depths of my soul and charged into the melee. Blinded by my rage I brought down my sword over and over, slicing up the closest Alpha to me – a dirt covered scumbag with blood sprayed across his face who'd stopped to bedevil a small child by pointing a loaded revolver into his young, confused face. The biker’s self-pleased giggling at his cruel game quickly turned into blood-curdling shrieks that echoed all around me, as I dispatched him without mercy. Looking up I saw I'd caught the attention of several of his buddies, who were now abandoning their own cruel games of torturing townsfolk to avenge their fallen comrade. It was at that moment I saw Bad Bart carry Felicity Jane in his arms out the front doors of the saloon, just as the roof came down and the building crumbled. Our eyes met for an instant and he nodded at me, adjusting Felicity's weight as she stirred.

She's alive! It was all that registered in my brain. My heart skipped a beat as my fear of losing her subsided, allowing my mind to kick back fully into fight mode once more.

Bart made a move toward me, but I cried out at the top of my lungs.

“NO! GET HER AWAY FROM HERE!”

The words were barely out of my mouth before the first biker came barreling at me, a blunderbuss discharging from his left hand as he tried to run me down. The glowing hot metal ball that shot out of the muzzle end whizzed past my face, missing me only by inches. The man on the bike wasn't as lucky. With a smooth motion I brought my sword down and, missing his head, sliced off his ear. He cried out like a little girl as he flew past me, his lost appendage falling into the dirt as a fine arc of blood sprayed into the air.

Just seconds later the next biker came flying at me from the other side. He had on sunglasses even though it was dark outside. He was swinging a metal chain above his head, grinning from ear to ear. I barely had time to pull my sword up before he passed so close to me I could smell his foul breath. I felt the wind go out of me as the heavy rope links hit me dead in the chest, knocking me off my feet. Panic shot through me as I gulped desperately for breath.

Get back on your feet! Get up now or you're done for! Don't just lie there, get up and FIGHT!

There was a loud crashing sound that shook the ground while I was lying vulnerable and supine. I felt something warm and wet to my left side. My head throbbed and I gasped, doing my best to suck fresh air into my lungs. They felt like they were bruised.

GET UP AND FIGHT OR YOU WILL DIE!

Fear began to set in once again, cold and familiar, as I realized I knew what the wet feeling was.

It’s blood, I thought. It has to be. You're bleeding to death.

With trembling hands I searched my chest and sides for the source of the bleeding, but couldn't find a wound. I brought my hand to my face and saw it was slick with fresh blood. I heard a moaning from somewhere to my right, and rolled onto my side in that direction, pain radiating from my chest where the chain had connected. I saw that the man who'd given me the wound was faring far worse than I was. His bike was smashed and gasoline had leaked out of it into the street, making a big mud puddle. He had my katana jammed all the way through him, entering from the stomach and coming out the middle of his back. Blood gushed out of the gaping slash caused by my sword, flowing into a puddle at my side. He was no longer wearing his cool shades. His cocky attitude was now long gone. He blinked over and over. His mouth opened and closed as if he was about to say something important, but no words came out. He took hold of the blade with both hands and yanked it loose with a loud scream. Instantly a fresh wave of blood came gushing out of the dark, angry wound. For one terrible moment I thought he would use my own sword against me, but then the life seemed to slither out of him. He fell on his side and didn't move again.

I crawled on my hands and knees over to him, still feeling the stinging and tightness in my chest, but doing my best to ignore it. I wrapped my ready hands around my blade and began to pick it up when I felt something cold and wet hitting the back of my head, making me flinch. I knew what it was by the smell before I saw where it was coming from. It was gasoline. Ignoring my injuries, I rolled over and looked up to see the Alpha Chieftain who had captured me in his net back at Freedom Town. He was holding an empty glass bottle just over my head in one hand and the rag he'd taken out of it in the other. There was a look in his eyes I'd never seen before, somewhere between unbridled hatred and a painful kind of ecstasy. He threw the bottle at my head, but I ducked under it, leaving it to bounce off my left shoulder and make me wince in pain.

You've hit me in the head for the last time, I thought darkly as I contemplated my next move.

“Lookie here now,” he began. “Big fishee trya swimheselfa up da stream.”

He pulled a metal lighter from his pocket, clicked open the lid with his big, dirty thumb, and lit it by rolling the metal wheel up his pants until a spark ignited the wick. I sat up on my knees and rubbed my shoulder hard, hoping to make the new pain go away.

“Boss lady say she gonna pay big reward for dis here fish come home in one piece,” the Alpha said as he drew near, holding the flame steady. “She gonna be real mad, screamin an cussin' too. Cuz this here fishee goin' fry for what he do, burn up so nice an crispy dem zombies not even gonna wanna bite him no how.”

The smell of the fumes wafted around me, and once again fresh panic shot through me as my mind raced. He was close enough that I could see the sparkle in his glassy eyes as he leered at me. I ran through my options in my mind.

I could kick his feet out, I thought, but then I risk him falling over and setting me on fire. Same thing with my blade.

I began to crawl backward, crablike and away from him, but he just laughed at my feeble attempt to escape.

“Look at dem fishie flop pop,” he cooed. “Ain't no mo places to hide.”

Holding the lighter up over his head, he ran up and kicked me square in the chest. My arms flailed and I landed once more on my back, my chest stinging. I could feel my blade fall out of my hand, but overwhelmed by pain and short of breath I was powerless to do anything. The Alpha Chieftain stood over me and cackled like an angry crow.

“Dis a lass stop boy,” he announced, looking down at me. “Soon nuff dem flames goin take you down inda pain, downa bottom ofa river, ina messa darkness.”

My heart was beating so fast it felt like would burst right out of my chest.

This can't be how I die, I thought. It's not right! Not after everything I've been through. Not without saying goodbye to Moto and Felicity and Benji. I don't want the last thing I see in this world to be this ugly, awful face taking pleasure in my suffering.

I saw his hand coming down in slow motion, bringing the dancing flame closer to me. His eyes broke from my horrified stare, turning up in shock. I heard the cry of a horse from somewhere nearby, then saw a flash of something dark and shiny as Black Beauty came flying over me, crashing head first into my tormenter and sending him cartwheeling away from me, coming to rest next to the downed motorcycle of his comrade I'd just killed. Looking up I saw Sonya riding bareback once more, effortlessly controlling the huge beast as if they were fused together. She made a clicking sound with her tongue and the animal turned, reared up, and kicked the Chieftain as he climbed back to his feet, catching him dead in his chest and stomach, and sending him flying once more onto his dead pal. Sonya didn't wait to see if he would be getting up again. She galloped to me and I stood up, taking her arm and letting her swing me onto the back of the horse. I wrapped my arms around her waist as we charged back toward the charred remains of the saloon.

“Hang on,” she yelled, just as another explosion ripped through the night behind us. I felt a blast of heat hitting my back. I turned my head to see the Chieftain now fully engulfed in flames along with his friend and the bike. For a moment it looked like he was going to get up, that not even being set on fire from head to toe was enough to stop him, but then he fell back into the gas puddle, his legs twitching momentarily, and then going still.

I turned my head back to see that the fighting had intensified. I saw Marshal Hudson in the middle of it, taking out bikers one at a time with a bolt-action rifle. He was deadly accurate, lining the moving targets up in his sights, taking his time, then bringing them down. Frank, the blacksmith I'd met earlier in the day, was fighting too, along with a handful of townspeople. For a moment I thought we'd be joining them, but Sonya veered at the last second and took off toward the entrance of Gold Strike City, flying past the posts that had once been part of their trusted defense system, and into the scrub brush beyond.

“Wait,” I shouted into her ear. “We have to go back and help them.”

But she just didn't slow. If anything she seemed to pick up speed, completely ignoring my pleas.  Out in front of us a full, milky white moon rose in the distance. I turned and looked back at the town, seeing only shadows moving back and forth between smoke and flames, like flickering images from a movie screen. I looked down to see the ground rushing past. We were going too fast to jump off. There was a good chance I'd break my leg or worse if I tried, but part of me still wanted to fight. I needed to go back. I had to find Felicity, and I couldn't just abandon the people that had taken us in.

“We have to go back,” I shouted, but Sonya shook her head no. “I'm not leaving without Felicity!”

Sonya leaned back, and Black Beauty slowed as we came closer to the ridge.

“Where do you think I'm taking you?”

She held up her arm and pointed with one finger to a small cluster of shadows in the distance. I squinted to make out the lowered shapes of Bad Bart and Felicity next to another horse. We caught up to them in minutes. I didn't wait for Sonya to bring the horse to a stop before jumping off and racing to Felicity. She was lying on her back with Bart leaning over her. He turned and looked up at me.

“She's okay,” he said. “She just passed out from smoke inhalation is all.”

He moved away so I could take her in my arms.

“Felicity! Talk to me, baby. It's okay. I'm here now.”

She opened her eyes, looked up at me and smiled.

“You're alive,” she croaked in a deep voice. I let out a little laugh as I felt the stitch in my chest relax.

“I am,” I said, “thanks to Sonya. If she hadn't come along when she did, I'd be burned to a crisp right now.”

“What's that smell?”

“Gasoline,” I shrugged, smelling it coming up from my shirt. “Either that or kerosene.”

“It's awful.”

“You're one to talk,” I teased lightly, grateful to see the hint of a smile returning to her face. “You've got black soot all over your face, kiddo. It's going to take a river to clean up both of us, and it's just our luck we're in the middle of the desert about a million miles from any lake or river. Speaking of which, let's get you something to drink.”

Felicity sat up, and Sonya brought her a canteen of water. She took it without argument, and greedily gulped down several swallows. She leaned back, wiping her mouth with the outside of her hand and looking more alert, as if she were fighting her way out of a fog.

“What's happening, Xander?”

“Alphas,” I said. “The ones that took me. They've tracked us here.”

“How is that possible?”

“I was wondering the same thing,” I confessed. “Looks like they sacked Freedom Town in the process.”

“No,” Felicity cried, looking heartbroken. I grimaced as I thought about all the children she had grown so close to while teaching at the colony. It was a devastating and pointless loss.

“I'm sorry,” I said, knowing it wouldn't help. Felicity began to climb back to her feet. Bart and I helped her up.

“We have to go back,” she said feebly, leaning on me to stay upright.

“You're in no condition,” I argued.

“I can't allow that,” Sonya said in a firm tone, like a parent refusing to give in to the whims of a child. I turned to follow the hard stare Felicity shot at her, not believing my own ears.

“Excuse me?” Felicity said in a defiant tone, taking the words right out of my mouth. “Allow us? Who do you think you are?”

“It doesn't matter who I think I am,” Sonya replied. “I've worked too hard to get you out of harms way. I can't let you go charging back in and get yourself killed over nothing.”

“Over nothing?” Felicity's anger seemed to be injecting new life into her. She let go of my arm and began stomping toward Sonya, who simply returned her glare as she stood her ground. “Those people back there took us in. They saved our lives and now they need our help!”

“This is all my fault,” I said. “Those bikers came looking for me. I don't know how or why, but they found me. If anyone should go back and fight, it should be me.”

“You make one move back there and I will knock you out.”

“Are you threatening my husband?” Felicity curled up her fists into a ball, ready for a fight.

“ENOUGH!” Bad Bart roared, scaring us all into silence. We gaped at him as he panted, nearly unable to contain his anger. “Now this is what's gonna happen. You're gonna head up along this ridge line and follow the tracks until you see a small cluster of trees that leads to a channel. Buried under a pile of branches you'll find a handcart. You're gonna wanna push it onto the main tracks by hand and get it going.”

“But…”

“No buts,” he said, stopping my protests before I had a chance to launch into them. “It’s got a gasoline engine that you start with a pull cord, just like a lawnmower. It's real loud and bound to attract all kinds of unwanted attention, so you're not gonna wanna dally. My advice is to get it going the old fashioned way, by hand, before you start trying to fire that engine up, just in case you've got company.”

“We're not going to just run away and leave you here to deal with this mess,” Felicity argued. “You can't be seriously telling us to flee like cowards.”

“That's exactly what I want you to do,” Bad Bart said, taking his horse by the reins. “We'll hold them off as long as we can while you run. Hopefully, it will give you enough time to make a clean getaway. You get moving now so they won't be able to track you again.”

“Thank you,” I said. “For everything.”

“No problem,” he said. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Xander. Take good care of her.”

“I will,” I promised.

“Don't go,” Felicity pleaded, but he was already climbing back onto his horse.

“Don't you worry about me,” he said confidently. “I'm gonna be just fine. I'll see you again soon, Miss Felicity Jane, in this world or the next.”

He gave out a loud cry, and headed back toward Gold Strike City.

“We can't just leave them,” Felicity groaned.

“He risked his life for you,” Sonya admonished, “to make sure you made it out alive. If you go back now and something happens, it will be for nothing. Don't you see that?”

The girls locked eyes once more in a contest of wills. For a minute they looked like they might duke it out right there, but they never got the chance.

“Uh girls,” I said, feeling the panic rise back up from the core of my being. “Going back isn't going to be an option anymore.”

I felt the girls turn to look at me, but my eyes were fixed on the land that lay between the old ghost town and us. An army of shadows moved across the darkness heading for the burning buildings and the noise of gunshots. The wind shifted and I caught their scent, a putrid aroma of rotting skin, before the chorus of unearthly low moans hit my ears. A vast horde of undead was advancing on the chaos, drawn in by the commotion. They moved like a river of decaying flesh, cutting us off from the unsuspecting and unprotected city of actors and artists. Bart's horse kicked up a thin trail of dust that rose to the sky as he rode hard, aiming for the front of the undead deluge, hoping to bypass them.

“Oh my God,” Felicity groaned. It was all any of us could manage.

Chapter Sixteen

“They'll all be killed,” Felicity said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Even if they manage to fight off the Alphas, that horde will sweep through Gold Strike and leave nothing living in its path.”

“Especially now that their defenses are gone,” I added, feeling guilty at even thinking it.

“What are we going to do?” Felicity had a panicked look on her soot covered face. Her eyes were wide and pleading as she turned anxiously from Sonya to me and back again, hoping one of us would be able to offer a suggestion that might magically prevent her new friends from being slaughtered like cornered animals.

“I'm not sure there is anything we can do at this point,” I said, feeling helpless and more than a little anxious as well.

It's not just the townspeople that are in danger, the little voice in my head reminded me. If you don't convince Felicity to get moving soon, there is a very real chance we all might be next. We’re out in a wide open desert, with zero protection, in the dead of the night. What if there are more zombies close by? What if some of the undead from that massive gathering veer off in our direction? What if a separate horde, not attached to that gigantic river of rotting corpses, is heading our way right now?

I glanced over at Sonya who seemed to be thinking the same thing.

“We're not safe out here,” she said. “We need to keep moving.”

“Are you insane? We've got to go back. We've got to try to do something before it's too late, or we'll never be able to live with ourselves.”

“It's already too late,” Sonya said. Felicity shook her head back and forth, unable to accept the truth. “All we can do now is move on and make sure we're not next on the menu. The longer we stay here arguing, the more likely we'll be discovered by Alphas or zombies or both.”

Sonya climbed back onto Black Beauty. I took Felicity Jane by the hand and pulled her to me, hugging her tightly as she buried her face in my neck, despite the terrible smell of gasoline coming off me.

“I'm so sorry baby,” I whispered in her ear, trying to comfort her.

“It's not fair,” she cried. “All those beautiful people. They took us in and we brought them death and destruction. They never asked for any of this.”

Felicity pulled back from me, shaking her head.

“What is it?”

“Sorry,” she said, scrunching up her nose. “They really doused you with something.”

“Yeah,” I said sarcastically, “it's my new cologne, au de lawnmower. Do you like it?”

“It's burning my eyes a little.”

“Mine too,” I said. “The guy who covered me in it was planning on turning me into a human bonfire. You'd probably be able to see my blazing corpse for miles if Sonya hadn't come along when she did and taken him out. It's a good thing none of us smoke.”

“What did you say?” Felicity had a far away look in her eyes, as if she was working out some impossible puzzle, and had just made a major breakthrough.

“None of us smoke,” I said. “At least as far as I know.”

“That's it!”

“What's it?”

“Guys,” Sonya said, prancing around impatiently on Black Beauty. “We need to get moving now before we're seen. Come on!”

“Take off your shirt,” Felicity instructed, ignoring Sonya's parental like orders.

“What? Honey, this isn't really the time,” I began, but she held up her hand and interrupted me. “Take off the pants too, while you're at it.”

Before I could answer, she began scouring the scrub brush like she'd lost something important. I began to wonder if she might not have lost her mind. I turned to see Sonya growing more impatient by the second.

“Whatever this is, we don't have time for it,” Sonya said. She looked close to tying us both up and throwing us over the back of the massive steed.

Using both hands, Felicity held a large, dry tree branch she'd found over her head. The look on her face was radiant, like she'd just figured out a way to save all of Gold Strike City.

“Why is your shirt still on?” she asked. “Quickly, there isn't much time left. Take it off.”

I paused for a brief second to see if she was being serious, but the determined look chiseled onto her beautiful face told me everything that I needed to know. She was absolutely serious, and whatever she was planning she'd thought all the way through. I began unbuttoning my shirt and taking it off without protest.

“Whatever you're planning,” I said, “I hope it's good.”

“I just hope it's enough,” she said, taking the soiled cowboy shirt out of my hands and staring expectantly at my filthy jeans.

“Are you sure you need them?” I asked. The thought of running around in my boxers, in the middle of the cold night, appealed to me even less than the idea of wearing gasoline soaked pants.

“Yes,” she said without hesitation, wrapping my discarded clothing around the branch in a tight bundle. She turned and addressed Sonya, acknowledging her directly for the first time. “We're going to need something to light this with as well. Got any ideas?”

“What are you planning on doing?” Sonya didn't look amused by Felicity's sudden stroke of genius.

“It's not what I'm going to do,” Felicity fired back. “It's what you're going to do!”

“What exactly do you think I'm going to do again?”

“You're going to help me get this makeshift torch lit and then you're going to ride out toward that zombie horde and get their attention.”

“You're insane if you really think that's going to happen,” Sonya said flatly. My hands were starting to tremble as I gave Felicity the dirty jeans I'd been wearing. It was cold out in the middle of the desert night, even before I stripped down to my underwear. I didn't even have time to think about how I looked standing there half naked in those ridiculous cowboy boots.

“You're not afraid,” Felicity crowed at her. “Are you?”

Even in the milky shadow light of the moon I could see the color rise up in Sonya's face at the suggestion.

“You're not going to bait me into your stupid little stunt by calling me chicken. Now stop messing around and let's get moving before it's too late.”

Felicity stood her ground. “What about a bribe then?”

Sonya brought Black Beauty around toward her. The massive beast gave a snort as Sonya coaxed him to stop right in front of Felicity's face.

“I'm listening.”

“We'll come with you, no questions asked,” Felicity offered, “if you give my plan a try.”

“And just what is your plan exactly?”

“You ride toward them, getting the attention of as many as you can and drawing them back this way toward us. Meanwhile, Xander and I will head to the handcart and get it on the tracks. Once you're close, you join us and we fire it up. The sound should be loud enough to keep the living dead distracted.”

“That's not going to work,” Sonya said without hesitation. “Even if I manage to lure back a good portion of them there will still be plenty that continue toward the settlement, drawn in by the fire and the sounds of panic. At best you'll be able to cut the horde in half.”

“It's worth a try,” Felicity said. “And it's better than doing nothing.”

“This isn't one of your Hollywood movies…” Sonya began, but Felicity started yelling over her.

“No! It's not a movie. This is real life and those are real people up there, dying at the hands of cannibal savages and undead monsters. So excuse me if I still give a damn and my heart hasn't turned into stone just yet, like you. That's my offer. Take it or leave it. You help, we go along with you. You don't, and I swear I'll make every second of the time we're stuck together as difficult for you as possible.”

Felicity delivered the last sentence through gritted teeth with her head down, before looking up at Sonya again on her high horse. Sonya's mouth was open now, presumably in shock. Whatever her impressions had been of Felicity Jane before, they were now completely wiped away.

“You better stick to the deal,” Sonya said at last. “Because once I risk my life for your stupid new friends, there will be no going back on it.”

“You have my word,” Felicity solemnly swore.

“Give me that,” Sonya shot back, reaching a hand out for the clothing wrapped branch. My jeans were now tightly coiled around the stick as well, like a hobo's bundle from a Saturday morning cartoon. Felicity handed it over.

“How are you going to light it?”

“Don't worry about it,” Sonya boldly replied, doing her best to sound in control once more. “Just have that handcart ready to roll when I get back. There won't be time for excuses if this goes how you think it's gonna go.”

“We'll make it work one way or another,” I gushed, joining the conversation. “If it's there.”

“And don't even think about trying to run off on me,” Sonya warned, ignoring me and locking eyes in a staring contest with Felicity. “Because if you do, I will track you down and make you sorry you ever crossed me.”

“Quit stalling,” Felicity groused. “I gave you my word. You don't need to threaten us.”

For a minute I thought the deal might be off. Sonya looked like she was ready to climb off the back of Black Beauty and tear my wife's hair out. There was a burning hatred between the women that defied understanding. Then, without warning, Sonya broke eye contact. She let out a sharp whoop that made me jump, and then bolted off, turning in a half circle as she passed us, and headed back to the zombie horde still locked on a collision course toward Gold Strike City. We watched her ride off into the darkness without saying a word, getting smaller and smaller until she was almost impossible to see. There was a muffled fizzling sound in the distance followed by a flash of light as my cowboy costume came roaring to life on the end of the branch.

“I hope you know what you're doing,” I said.

“So do I,” she answered.

“We better get moving.”

I turned and took Felicity's hand, doing my best to ignore what was happening off in the distance, and tried to focus on my immediate surroundings and the task at hand. I was bone tired, sore, and hungry, but the thrill of near death coupled with the biting cold kept me alert. There wasn't going to be a whole lot of room for error if this plan worked out, and that was still a big if.

Stay focused, I told myself. There are still plenty of dangers that could be lurking nearby. If you are distracted, you'll never be able to anticipate them.

We made a beeline to the edge of the cliffs. Staring down the short distance into the canyon below, I could make out the dull gleam of the railroad tracks in the powdery moonlight.

“Let's stay up on the ridge until we find those trees Bad Bart mentioned,” I suggested. “I don't want to get trapped down there in case we run into another horde.”

“Agreed,” Felicity said, squeezing my hand.

We made our way along the edge a short distance, doing our best not to look back. Eventually, we came upon the place Bad Bart described. The canyon sloped at a choke point, creating a natural ramp down as the hill rolled toward the track. I noticed a set of tracks that curved away from the main line leading to a dead end of solid earth. There were dry tree branches stacked up where the metal rails ran smack into the canyon wall.

“There,” I said, pointing to it. “That must be what Bart was talking about.”

We both rushed into the hollow and began pulling the tree branches loose, tossing them aside. I felt the leaves brushing against my bare skin and tickling me, but I pushed on. Soon we'd uncovered it, a glistening metal machine with a small tank of gas and a motor, just as we'd been promised.

This might actually work, I thought for a moment, panting from lifting the heavy branches clear. Who knew she had it in her?

“You've got something on you,” Felicity said, pointing at me.

“It's nothing,” I said, “just some loose leaves.”

“No, Xander,” she said. “They're small and black, like...”

Her words trailed off as I realized that the leaves were moving up my body, not drifting down with the force of gravity. I glanced down to see a handful of glossy, ink black creatures with their tiny legs climbing upward to my face.

“SPIDERS!”

For a moment I lost all control. While snakes and mice have never bothered me in the least, I've had an irrational fear of spiders my entire life. Next to zombies, they were my biggest fear and the star of countless nightmares I've had over the years. I screamed shrilly and began dancing around, swatting at my chest and legs, trying to clean them all off. Felicity dissolved into a fit of giggles.

“Did I get them all? Did I?!” I could barely speak. I was shaking all over from cold, and now from fear as well.

“I think you got ‘em,” Felicity laughed, “tough guy.”

“I hate spiders!” I was panting like I'd just run a marathon. I didn't even care that she was going to tease me about this forever. Big bad Xander, scourge of the undead and outlaws everywhere, is afraid of a little, itsy bitsy spider.

“Poor baby,” Felicity teased. “Did that little spider scare my ninja warrior?”

“That's not funny!”

I glared stubbornly at her, but she burst out laughing. I wanted to stay mad, but I couldn't. She was right. It was pretty absurd, but then again, so was everything else in our lives. Before I knew it, I was laughing right along with her. For a moment I thought about all the unspeakably dreadful things we'd had to go through, and for some reason it just made me laugh harder. It felt good to let it out. Making light of our troubles seemed to push them further away and make them less overwhelming.

I smiled at Felicity as our laughter died down, watching her face go from happy and joyful to absolutely terrified in just a matter of seconds. I felt a creeping sensation rising up my bare spine, and all the hairs on my arms stood on end. I had my blade out before I'd even turned around, before I'd even seen the corpse or heard the low rattle of a moan coming from it like a dying breath that never ended. In one swift motion, I brought my blade through what used to be the man's chewed out throat, separating his bite-covered head from his body. It rolled off into the weeds, and gave out a final gasp. The body remained upright, less than a few feet away from me, then sank to its knees and pitched forward. It lay as still as the grave it should have been buried in the first time it died. He'd almost snuck up on me while we were laughing. Once again, I'd come far too close to being a meal for the undead.

“Xander!” Felicity cried out.  I turned back to see her pointing off in the distance. We'd been right not to come down to the tracks until the last minute. I'd known for a while that, left to their own devices, zombies tended to move downhill and congregate in groups. I wasn't surprised to see there were stragglers moving in the near dark like wheezing shadows. Lucky for us the rest of the biters were still a fair distance away from us.

“We don't have much time,” I said. “We need to lift this thing onto the track and get it moving.”

“What about Sonya?”

“She'll have to catch up with us,” I said. “Riding Black Beauty, she shouldn't have any problems. We're the ones who are done for if we don't get this thing onto the tracks pronto.”

I rushed into the canyon crevice and got behind the handcart, shoving it forward with all my might. I was no longer worried about spiders. I was worried we'd be torn to shreds if we didn't get moving. The metal wheels slowly came to life as the machine rolled slightly forward. Felicity ran around the body of the zombie I'd just slain, and leaned over the corpse.

“What are you doing?” I managed, huffing as I tried to keep the handcart rolling forward. I could see the first zombie coming out of the shadows. It was a fat man in a torn shirt, with half his guts hanging out. He looked like he'd been turned a long time, but there were fresh bloodstains down the front of him, like a sloppy eater with a bowl of spaghetti. He was less than a hundred feet away. If I was going to get the handcart on the tracks and get us to safety, I was going to need some help.

Felicity came back with the man's black leather jacket in her hands, holding it up as she ran to me, looking triumphant. It was an odd style, covered with zippers in strange places, more for fashion than function, but that wasn't what bothered me about it. What made my skin crawl was the fact it had just been on a dead guy I'd put down not a minute before. I'd never really been one to go through a corpse’s pockets before, much less one I'd slain. It felt a little like murdering someone and taking their stuff. I knew this was different, that I was only defending myself and that I needed the jacket to stay warm, but it still just didn't sit quite right with me.

“Put this on so you don't freeze to death,” she said, placing the jacket over my shoulders like a cape.

“That's disgusting,” I protested, holding it up and sniffing at it. “It still smells like rotting flesh, and who knows what else. I'm not wearing it.”

“We don't really have time to argue now do we?” She had a point. Stink as it might, I was already feeling warmer just having it draped over me. “Besides, it's not like you smell all that great either way. Worst case scenario, one of these zoms might mistake you for their own kind and pass right by us.”

“Fat chance of that happening,” I said, stopping just long enough to get my arms into the sleeves before putting all my weight back into rolling the machine forward. “But thank you.”

Felicity smiled and kissed my cheek. She leaned over and used her body weight to help me push the handcart. It was much easier with the two of us than it had been on my own. We quickly managed to get it onto the main line and climbed on top of the metal platform. Felicity wrapped her hand around the pull cord of the engine, preparing to give it a hard yank. The look on her face told me she was just praying it would still work.

“Wait,” I said, holding up my hand. “Not yet.”

“We can't wait much longer,” she argued, glancing around to see that there were now nearly twenty zombies heading in our direction. They were coming from both directions, in front and behind us. There was even one blocking our way on the tracks, her arms stretched out like something from a kids cartoon, a snarling growl coming from her torn, dead lips, sounding like a wailing siren.

“We'll have to do it by hand, then,” Felicity offered as a compromise. “Take your side and drive it down.”

“We made a promise,” I argued. “We can't just leave her, especially with a horde on her tail.”

“We're not going to leave her,” Felicity said, looking annoyed. “We're just going to get it started. Hopefully, by the time we're moving, she'll have caught up to us.”

“And if she hasn't?”

“What does it matter? Like she said, she can track us down. I'm not going to sit here and wait for these things to take a bite out of our legs just because I don't want to hurt her feelings.”

Felicity looked exasperated to even be having this conversation, but a part of me couldn't shake the threat Sonya had leveled at us. It wasn't that I didn't think I could defend us from the woman warrior, it's that I didn't want to have to, not after the last few days. I wasn't quite ready to take Sonya at her word, but I also wasn't ready to declare her the enemy just yet.

She'd make a nightmare of an opponent, I thought, realizing for the first time just how scary it would be to live looking over my shoulder the rest of my life, just waiting for her to come flying out at me. I'd have to grow eyes in the back of my head, as Moto used to say, if I planned on staying a step ahead of a fighter like her. I knew that might be exactly where I was headed, but I wasn't quite ready to admit it, especially after only a few hours of sleep.

“Xander, come on!”

She's right, I thought, snapping back to reality. We can't just sit here and wait for Sonya. She'll have to catch up with us, or we'll die for sure. Then no one wins.

“Sorry,” I said, taking the metal bar in the middle of the cart with both hands and pushing it down with my arms. It was grueling work at first, trying to get the wheels to move, but soon the momentum took over and it became easier, like playing teeter totter.

I wonder if I sat on my side if I could bounce up and down with my legs, I thought, doing my best to ignore the dull burn in my arms and chest from the strenuous workout I was getting.

“We're doing it,” Felicity said, sounding relieved. “Keep going, Xander. We're starting to pick up speed.”

Looking past her, I could see we were almost on top of the dead woman who was walking on the tracks.

“Watch your back,” I yelled out, the feeling of the cold air rushing past me making me shiver. “You got a bogey on your tail, kid.”

Since we were up on the level metal platform of the handcart, it was fairly safe to assume we wouldn't have to worry about a lone zombie getting a good shot at us. Still, that didn't mean one might not be able to lean in and take a bite out of one of our legs if we got too close to the edge. Plus if they got under the wheels, or even fell the wrong way on the track, they might bring us to a dead stop. Then it would just be a matter of time until the others caught up and shoved us over. There was even a chance they might step on the bodies of their fallen comrades and end up overrunning our tiny little cart, like rats on a sinking ship.

Hungry rats, I thought, with a million dull teeth just waiting to mercilessly rip us to shreds.

The closer we got the more the woman’s condition came into focus. Her lips were cracked, but there was also a gaping hole in her cheek that revealed rotting teeth, and some kind of pinkish gray pus drooling out and down her neck in a glistening spider web of filth. Her hands looked like shredded gloves, the raw meat nearly hanging off the bones, as they reached out pitifully for us. Her eyes bled a black gunk like used motor oil. There were bits of leaves and brush on her crumpled clothes, in her hair, and even stuck to her body in places. Even though she was a walking nightmare, a vision from the depths of hell called back to life, I suddenly felt a surge of sadness for her. She'd been a person once, just like us. I'd been bitten before. That could be me wandering in the darkness, driven by hunger to commit unspeakable acts, unable to ever be satisfied or at peace, lost and alone, begging for a death that never comes.

Felicity turned to face the horrifying female zombie, snarling just a few feet away, and let out a rolling laugh at the sight of the woman, like someone had just told her the funniest joke in the world.

She's losing her grip on reality, I thought. It's been a tough couple of days for all of us, which says a lot when you live in a post Z Day world.

“I've got it,” I said, drawing my sword out carefully so I didn't cut my new jacket open in the back and expose myself to the cold again. Before I could figure out how I was going to walk around to her side past a swinging metal lever, Felicity lifted her right foot up and planted it in the woman's dead face. It was a sharp, effective kick that knocked the corpse off its shuffling feet and rolled it off the track, where it landed flat on its back.

If she was still alive, that would have knocked the wind right out of her, I thought, staring at Felicity with pride.

“That takes care of her,” Felicity said, wiping her hands as if to say she'd just taken out the trash. “Now let's get this thing cranked up.”

We set to it in earnest, each of us driving down the metal bar as soon as it rose up. We quickly picked up some speed, making it much easier to keep the momentum going. From behind me I heard the sound of horse hooves, and turned to see Sonya racing toward us as fast as she could on Black Beauty. I turned back to see the look of disappointment on Felicity's face, but she did her best to cover it up.

She was hoping Sonya might not make it back, I realized. Of course she was, but things are never that easy, not for us anyway.

Within the next few minutes, Sonya came up alongside of us and kept pace.

“It's taken care of,” she shouted, making sure we heard her over the rushing wind.

“You got them to change course?” Felicity acted like she was having a casual conversation with a stranger in traffic.

“Not all of them,” Sonya admitted, “but a large portion. Well over half, I'd say. Maybe three quarters. It was more than I expected, to be honest.”

“Where did they go?” I asked.

“They were right on my backside all the way into the canyon,” Sonya yelled. “Let's just say you're not going to want to slow down anytime soon.”

“How do we know you're telling us the truth?”

Sonya's eyes flashed with anger at Felicity's impudent suggestion that she might be lying.

That's what I was worried about, I thought. But I'm not ready to piss her off just yet.

“Because I gave you my word,” Sonya hollered, her voice growing harsher. “You can always slow this thing down if you like, and see what happens.”

We were losing speed, but it was because the girls were arguing so much that Felicity had let go of her side. Maybe with some oil and regular cleaning a single person could keep the momentum of the cart going, but not in its condition.

“I'm just saying,” Felicity continued to needle her. “It's not like we were there. So how do we know you really did what you said you did?”

The handcart slowed further, and Sonya wasted no time jumping on. Black Beauty continued to run alongside, keeping pace, but now the girls were face-to-face arguing.

“I've had about enough of this nonsense from you,” Sonya said in a threatening voice. “I have done nothing but help you and your husband, and all I get is attitude out of you. It ends here. Are we clear?”

“Or what?”

“Everyone thinks you're so nice, that you're so approachable for a former reality television star,” Sonya began waving her arms around dramatically.

“Child actress,” Felicity corrected her through gritted teeth.

“Whatever,” Sonya spat back. “Too bad your fans can't see the real you.”

“And just what is that? Why don't you enlighten us all?”

“I've risked my life to save your husband's life three times now, and all I get is distrust and hatred from you. I just rode through a zombie horde to save a group of people you recently met, for crying out loud! And still I can't get an inch of trust out of you, much less a thank you.”

In the distance I heard the sound of motorcycles echoing off the canyon walls. I turned to look back at where we'd just come, but all I saw were shadows. Then, out of the darkness, dozens of zombies began to appear. I turned back and tried to get us going again, but it was too much for me on my own.

“Ladies?”

“Sorry I'm not living up to your expectations,” Felicity goaded, not sounding the least bit remorseful. “Until you start telling us who sent you, or what your real plan is, that isn't going to change, so you can just stop crying about it.”

“We had a deal,” Sonya reminded her.

“And I'm not going back on it,” Felicity quickly added. “Just don't expect me to be your new BFF.”

“Ladies, we got a problem,” I said a little louder.

“I'm already tired of this argument,” Sonya said. “We made a deal and you're sticking to it. From here on out we do things my way, got it?”

“Yes sir!” Felicity jeered, saluting her.

“LADIES!” I yelled so loud I nearly scared myself, but it worked. Both of them turned my way.

“Oh my God,” Felicity mumbled, as she caught sight of the massive surge of undead monsters advancing on us.

“You happy now?” Sonya mocked, pointing at them.

“A little help would be nice,” I almost begged, still trying to get the cart to go faster on my own.

“I told you I drew most of them after me,” Sonya said haughtily, sounding smug and self-righteous. “And I don't lie.”

“That's just part of the problem,” I interjected. “If you listen, you can hear the Alphas are already on our heels. The only thing holding them back at this point is that wall of corpses in between us, but that won't hold the Alphas off forever. Sooner or later even they will figure out how to get around the horde, and then we're going to need all the distance between us that we can get.”

“Pull the cord,” Sonya ordered. “Start the engine and let's see if we can't get a good head start on them.”

“How did they find us again?” I questioned.

“It was her,” Felicity accused, turning to face Sonya again. “You tipped them off. It had to be.”

“And just how would I do that, genius? I've been with you the whole time.”

“I don't know,” Felicity admitted. “It had to be you though. How else would they know where to find us? None of us even knew Gold Strike City existed before yesterday, but they found it with almost no trouble at all.”

“That still doesn't explain how I got word to them,” Sonya said impatiently.

“You must have sent them some kind of signal.”

“Really? How?”

“I don't know,” Felicity said, looking ready to fight. “I just know all of this is somehow connected to you. It all started after you showed up.”

“That doesn't even make sense.”

“They are getting closer,” I yelled out. “If we're going to have any chance of surviving either Alphas or zombies, we're going to have to do something fast.”

A look of realization flashed across Sonya's face.

“Give me your sword,” Sonya said, holding her hand out.

“What? No.” I wasn't just going to hand over my blade, especially not with enemies so close at hand.

“I will give it back to you,” she said. “I promise.”

“Why do you need to see it?”

“Just trust me,” she said. I looked at Felicity who was shaking her head no, but then handed my katana to Sonya. At that moment, all I wanted was to stop fighting and get as far away from here as possible.

Sonya flipped the blade over in her hands a few times, bringing the handle up to her face and inspecting it as closely as she could in the dark.

“What are you doing?” Felicity asked. “You're just stalling.”

“I'm obviously looking for something,” Sonya fired back. “Just give me a few more seconds.”

“Whatever you're looking for,” I said, reaching down and wrapping my hand around the pull cord once more, “you’d better find it fast.”

“Got it,” she said, digging into the base of the sword.

“What are you doing?” I demanded, springing to my feet, the anger swelling up in my chest like a hot air balloon. Before I could take a step her way, she held up a tiny computer chip with a beeping red light and a small battery like the kind used in digital watches.

“This is how they are tracking us,” Sonya said, looking triumphant.

“What the hell is that?” Felicity demanded.

“It's a tracking chip,” I answered, my mouth going dry. “I've seen them in our supplies department back in Hueneme. This one looks way fancier than the ones we used.”

“How did it get in your sword?”

“I have no idea,” I said honestly, “but I'd love to know.”

“You were separated from your weapon back at Hellfire,” Sonya said matter-of-factly. “The Mistress must have tagged you then. After all, you're worth a lot of ransom to her. I'm sure she was protecting her investment. Who knows what kind of arrangement she has with the Alphas, the Warriors, or even Unity Gang.”

“Throw it over the side,” Felicity screamed.

“No,” I said. Felicity whipped her head around to stare at me with disbelief. “Someone is watching it. The minute it stops moving they are going to know we found it.”

“Xander,” Sonya said. “You can't hold on to it. It will draw them right to us. We don't stand a chance if they get within shooting range. You understand that, right?”

“Tie it to Black Beauty,” I said. Both women stared at me in unison, finally united by their shock at the suggestion that I use the horse to lure our enemies away.

“With what?”

I ignored Felicity's question, and turned to Sonya.

“Tear off part of your dress, wrap it up, then braid it into his mane.”

“And then what?”

“Then we start the engine,” I directed.

“And we pull away from all of this,” Felicity said, the look of surprise wearing off her face as she realized my plan.

“Black Beauty is fast,” I said, “but he can't keep up with the handcart once the engine is running. At some point he'll veer off to stay ahead of the horde and when he does the Alphas will follow him, along with whoever else is following us. Worst case scenario it will buy us time, but we might even get lucky and ditch them altogether.”

“It's not like we can take him with us,” Felicity added. “He's a wild horse. You said it yourself earlier. He was meant to run free. This way, this magnificent creature can do us all some good.”

“What if they gun him down when they figure it out?”

“They won't,” I assured her, but the truth was I had no way of knowing what they would do. What I did know is that if we didn't do something fast, we were all going to die. If Black Beauty were to be caught with us, the Alphas would turn him into stew for sure. “At least this way the horse has a fighting chance. That's all anyone can ask for anymore.”

Sonya didn't take long to decide. She tore a fresh swatch of clothing from the bottom of her ridiculous canary yellow dress, and began wrapping the device in it. With deft precision, she jumped onto the back of the horse. Black Beauty let out a loud whiny, but kept running in pace next to us. Sonya took a moment to right herself on the muscular back of the huge animal, then leaned down and began to tie the garment into the horse’s mane. She bent close and whispered again in the animal’s ear, before climbing to her feet and leaping the short distance back onto the handcart’s platform. She landed with a loud thump, dropping to one knee to steady herself.

“Well?” Sonya looked up with anger and hurt in her eyes. “What are you waiting for?”

I grabbed the cord and gave it a yank, but nothing happened.

“Xander,” Felicity said. “Stop screwing around.”

“I'm not,” I assured her as I yanked the cord again. The cart didn't move. “A little help might be nice right about now.”

“What do you need us to do?” Sonya asked. I glanced back to see that the horde was now less than a hundred feet from us. I recalled seeing them overrun Vandenberg, how they'd pushed the walls over using their collective weight. The walls had crumpled like they were made out of wet construction paper.

We'll be tossed around like dry leaves propelled by a swarm of worker ants, I thought.

“Start by getting us up to ramming speed again,” I suggested. “Maybe we need some momentum to activate it.”

Both girls jumped into action and began pumping the metal bar up and down, while I continued manually pulling the cord.

“Keep pulling, Xander,” Felicity encouraged me.

“Be careful not to flood it though,” Sonya added.

“Come on,” I protested, pulling the cord over and over until my arm hurt. With a loud sputter, the engine came to life. The handcart jerked forward and I fell onto my stomach, lying flat with my face toward the snarl of undead monsters practically running in our direction now. The girls let go of the metal bar as it began to pump up and down on its own, as if possessed by some strange magic. We took off at a fast clip, and soon the horde and the horse were yards behind us. I didn't get up. I just lay there panting, the cold air stinging my tired lungs. I saw Black Beauty shrinking in size as we picked up speed. Without warning, the horse ran across the tracks and off to the right, into the vast darkness of the night.

“Let's just hope it works,” I said, flopping onto my back. An answer was no use. Between the roar of the wind and the loud rumbling of the modified engine, I couldn't hear a thing.

Chapter Seventeen

We rolled along for a while without speaking. All that had to be said had already been said. Felicity looked exhausted from everything we'd been through, and we were no closer to being safe. Sonya kept her eyes peeled behind us to see if the Alphas were making any progress catching up. Just as predicted, Black Beauty fell behind us as the automated handcart kept a steady clip somewhere above thirty miles an hour. Moonlight reflected off the glossy black coat of the stallion as he veered off to the right and tore away at last, heading off into the distance until all that remained was a thin wisp of dust that climbed the night sky like a rope ladder to Heaven.

After what felt like half an hour, Sonya relaxed. There were no signs of the living or the dead, just the steady hum of the engine and the whine of the wind as it blew past us, nipping at the exposed parts of my skin and taking the putrid smell of decay from my jacket with it. I was glad that Felicity had insisted that I take the dead man's coat after all.

I would have frozen to death for sure, I thought, trying to keep my teeth from chattering. Or at least lost some fingers.

I found the best way to stay warm was to lie flat on my back, staring up into the night. The wind seemed to just glide over me that way, sparing my already ice-cold legs. An hour passed in the lush darkness of the railroad tracks with not a single cause for alarm. We passed a few wild cows grazing near the tracks, but there were no still no signs of anyone following us from behind – no lights, no roaring motorcycles, and most importantly, no gun shots. It was a relief to believe we'd gotten away from them again, that we'd escaped with our lives thanks to Sonya's quick thinking, but I also didn't trust the reprieve. I wasn't going to be lured into a false sense of security and be caught off guard again. Now I knew we could be followed, that they were hunting us, that we were valuable to them. It didn't matter if we didn't cross paths with another bike until we reached Hueneme. Every decision I made from now on would have to assume that they could be just a few steps behind us, waiting for me to trip up.

Those poor people, I thought, picturing the shocked faces of the residents of Gold Strike as the outlaw biker gangs swarmed into town – killing, maiming, and trashing everything the residents had worked so hard to build and maintain.

I let the anger boil inside of me for a moment, completely ignoring all the hours of training and tutoring I'd gotten from Moto about controlling my temper. My mind drifted to the tracker someone had planted on my katana, and my anger seemed to blossom like a painful flower made out of acid in my chest.

I can't believe they used my own weapon against me, I thought. Who really put that chip in and how long had it been there? Was Sonya right? Did the owner of Hellfire really bug my sword to keep tabs on me just in case the Alphas screwed up? Or was it Sonya herself that did it? After all, she was the one who made sure you got your weapon back, not once but twice! In fact, she risked her own life to make sure you had it!

Doubt floated through my mind, and I found myself arguing both sides with equal conviction. Sonya showed up at exactly the worst time, but she had also saved my life multiple times, just as she had carefully reminded Felicity. Was she really doing all of this to collect a reward from John in New Lompoc? It seemed like an awful lot to risk for the sake of what couldn't be much of a reward. Then again, I had no idea what he might have offered her. Maybe he was giving her something that made all of this worthwhile. He could give her an entire town to command, set her up like a Queen. It might be worth the risk for a reward of that size. Or maybe he held something over her? What if he had taken someone she loved hostage, and was threatening to kill them if she didn't deliver me? To what lengths would I be willing to go if someone kidnapped Felicity? What would I be willing to justify?

Still, there was something about the idea of Sonya being a stone cold assassin that just didn't fit, and I couldn't say why. She reminded me of someone, but I didn't know who it could be.

My mind turned to John once more. I thought back to the night I'd last seen him. He'd left his own men behind to flee like a coward as a zombie horde descended on his men and tore them to shreds.  His first in command, Tank, had been killed, but it was Tank's obsession with murdering Benji and me that had been his own undoing. Tank was a bad guy, plain and simple. He'd lied to John on countless occasions, and brought trouble down on the citizens of New Lompoc in the process. Surely John knew that. So why was he taking Tank's death so hard, especially when he was the one who had left him to die in the first place? Why was he blaming me? No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't see an answer that made sense.

Maybe that's just it, I thought. Not everything always makes sense. Sometimes people just do bad things and make up excuses to cover their tracks after the fact, when the real reason is simply because they wanted to do them.

A calmness descended over me as I realized the truth. John was hell-bent on seeing me again. One way or another it was going to happen. If he was willing to go to all this trouble to say something to my face, then sooner or later it was bound to go his way. You'd think coming to grips with something so big and scary would leave me shaking in my frozen cowboy boots, but instead it brought me peace. It was just one of the many lessons that Moto had taught me so many years ago when we first started my training.

“Always look your problems head-on if you can,” Moto had advised. “That way you can deal with them on your own terms instead of the terms your enemy wants to offer. If you run from your problems out of fear, those who seek to harm you will sneak up behind you and cut you down when you least expect it. If instead you face them head-on you gain many advantages, among them the choice of how you will meet your fate, as well as the thrill of seeing the fear in your enemy's eyes.”

So far I'd just been running. I knew that. I hoped that soon I would be able to face my problems head-on, with Felicity safely tucked away at Hueneme and my brother at my back. Even if that didn't work out, I knew that I would no longer be playing the role of victim. John had the element of surprise, but now that was gone. When the time came to meet again, I would stare him unblinking in the eye and make him answer to me for what he'd done, not the other way around. With this new determination now settled I began to relax and drift off to sleep, the continuous vibration of the engine pulling my exhausted mind into a dark, dreamless slumber.

I awoke to see Felicity and Sonya working either side of the handcart.

“What happened?” I asked, sitting up.

“We ran out of juice,” Sonya said without looking at me. “Gas is pretty hard to come by in these parts. It's not like there is a twenty-four-hour Chevron station.”

“Or an AM-PM,” Felicity added.

“How long was I out?”

“I don't know when you fell asleep,” Felicity quietly answered, “but we went about three hours or so and then the engine sputtered out.”

“Why didn't someone wake me up?”

“You needed the rest, baby. You've been through quite an ordeal in the last few days. You needed to recharge. I'm glad you're up though. I could use a break. My arms are killing me.”

“Wait a minute,” I countered, shaking myself back to life and once again feeling the bite of the cold. “Shouldn't we be in Los Angeles by now? Or at least some part of the former Orange County?”

“I don't think we're heading in that direction,” Felicity replied with a shrug, easing up on the manual labor.

“We're not,” Sonya confirmed. “We passed the split-off for that in the first hour. This line is specifically designated for military use. It runs straight through to Oxnard, with a manual split-off beforehand toward the base in Hueneme. Ordinarily a train would make that stretch in three hours easy, with time to spare to grab yourself a hot dog and a soda. This here handcart might be able to make it in under five hours, if it was running top speed on a full tank of petrol.”

“How long does it take by hand?”

“I'd say just a hair short of forever,” Sonya huffed. “Especially with no one helping me out. Isn't that right, Princess?” She let go of the lever and we began to coast along on momentum alone.

“Give me a break,” Felicity wheezed. “My arms seriously feel like lead noodles right now!”

“Odds are we're closer than it seems,” Sonya gasped in between deep breaths. “Just kinda hard to tell in the dark. If you pitch in and give it some elbow grease, we might be there by the break of day.”

“What's that coming up in the distance?”

We'd turned a corner and could see the far-off stadium style lights ominously blasting through the darkness. Both girls stood frozen and silently stared as we began to slow to a full stop without them pumping the handcart to life.

“What if it's them?” Felicity said, looking nervously between Sonya and me.

“Who?”

“Alphas.”

“What if it's military?” I asked, trying to sound optimistic.

“Fat chance of that,” Sonya laughed. “You've got a better chance of that being Santa's Workshop at the North Pole than being a military installation.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Instinct,” Sonya shrugged. “Ever since Z Day, the military has tended to concentrate their efforts into base camps and settlements. They've done almost no exploring at all. As far as I know, they haven't attempted to reclaim a single town. It's part of why we've started seeing the rise of small kingdoms run by tyrants, basically no different than warlords.”

“You mean like John?” Felicity asked, unable to hide the now familiar accusation in her tone.

“Exactly,” Sonya replied flatly, without hesitation.

“So if it's not military, then what is it?” I questioned, trying to keep the peace by distracting them.

“I'm not sure,” Sonya responded. “But one thing I do know is that I don't want to find out by just rolling along into those lights. By then it might be too late to turn back. For all we know, we could be surrounded by hundreds of armed fighters.”

“Wait a minute,” Felicity interrupted, craning her head toward the lights, as the cart slowed further and the wind died down. “Can you hear that? What is it?”

It was present all along, music, just under the howling of the cold night air.

“It sounds like…,” Sonya's words trailed off.

“…a circus?” I burst out, finishing her sentence for her.

We were close enough now to see the lights. They stood perched high in the air like the kind you might see at a football stadium, beaming down onto a parking lot shimmering with abandoned cars. Behind that were the telltale pinstriped tents with their colorful flags waving in the high desert breeze.

“Follow my lead,” Sonya instructed, slipping off the back of the handcart. Felicity and I exchanged a look.

There's no way we can just keep going and stay ahead of her, I thought. Don't even think about it.

I could see by the pleading look in Felicity's eyes that was exactly what she was thinking too. I shook my head just slightly to let her know it wasn't going to work, before grabbing my blade and hopping off the back. Felicity looked disappointed, but wasted no time in following me.

“Nice of you to join us,” Sonya teased, and Felicity shot her a look that suggested she'd rather tear every hair out of her head than spend another second traveling together. “Help me give this thing a push.”

Felicity just glared at her.

“Suit yourself,” Sonya said with a laugh before getting behind the handcart with both hands. I joined her and Felicity reluctantly pitched in on my left side, away from Sonya. It was as if any suggestion made by her would be met with the maximum amount of resistance possible, while still complying.

It's going to be a long trip back to the base at this rate, I thought. Or wherever it is that Sonya is actually leading us, a darker thought whispered. I put it out of my mind as I dug in with both feet and pushed.

The handcart’s speed picked up only slightly, but it was enough for it to roll off down the tracks and come to a halt in the middle of a brightly lit patch. We moved to the brush by the side of the tracks and waited to see if anyone would come out and investigate the appearance of the machine. Soon I began to shiver from the cold again. Five minutes passed, then five more, and still we saw no signs of life. I could hear the sounds of carnival music playing clearly now, as well as what sounded like a gas generator humming off in the distance.

“I don't think anyone is coming,” Felicity noted, standing up and shaking her hair.

“We don't know that yet,” Sonya fiercely whispered. “Get back down until we know we are safe.”

“No,” Felicity objected. “I'm done taking orders from you.”

Without another word, Felicity set off down the tracks straight for the abandoned cart and the parking lot. Sonya was up and chasing her in a split second. I trailed behind, preparing for the knockdown drag out fight that was about to ensue.

“You said you'd do things my way,” Sonya reminded her. “Back when you asked me to risk my life to save your friends. Remember? You said you'd go along.”

“I am going along,” Felicity turned and shouted. “Do I look like I'm escaping?”

“Enough,” I shouted at last. “I can't take any more of the constant fighting between you two. Can you both just give it a rest for a while? At least until we know where we are?”

“I will if she will,” Felicity said, looking hurt that I'd yelled at her.

“I'm just trying to keep us safe,” Sonya threw back. I gave her a hard stare and she gulped down the rest of her complaints. “Fine.”

“Good,” I said, still not believing that I'd managed to get them to listen to me in the first place. “Now I say we search those cars for keys. We could save a ton of time, and maybe even keep me from getting hypothermia.” My teeth chattered as if driving the point home. I don't know if they felt sorry for me, or if they were just taking a break so they could come up with new insults, but both ladies nodded in agreement.

“Fantastic,” I said with a fresh shiver. “Let's split up so we can cover more cars.”

We spent the next thirty minutes or so going through the rows of parked cars, trying the doors to see if any were open or had keys still in the ignition. Sonya let me know that hot-wiring a car was not one of the many skills she possessed and so, short of finding a car ready and running, we were most likely out of luck.

On the positive side, I managed to get a new pair of clothes along the way. At the entrance to the circus was a straw man wearing a ringmaster costume consisting of black slacks, a tuxedo shirt and golden vest, black knee-high boots, a very warm red tailcoat with gold stitching, and row after row of unnecessary buttons. There was also a black top hat that I put on for fun, along with white gloves and a bow tie that I didn't. The clothing was a near perfect fit once I shook the scratchy straw out of it, but the boots were too loose to be comfortable. The cowboy boots I'd picked up in Gold Strike City seemed to chafe my feet with every step, and once I had them off I couldn't manage to bring myself to put them back on. I found a pair of sneakers in fairly good shape in one of the cars, and wore them instead. Felicity and Sonya found piles of unopened junk food in the cars, everything from chips and soda to water and candy bars. I dragged a blanket out of an open station wagon and the girls piled up the bounty, moving quickly between the cars and returning with treats.

We all sat in silence and tore into the small feast. I hadn't realized how hungry I'd grown. I shoveled chips and chocolate into my mouth, feeling my dulled senses sing back to life and the familiar warmth return to my body. The sounds of crunchy snacks being devoured and the rustling of plastic soon died back down, and the steady noise of the big top theme song on loop became the only sound we heard, raining down and blanketing us from the large black speakers over our heads.

“How is this possible? How can there still be lights and sound going, but no one around? It's not like they could've been going on and on since Z Day.” Felicity spoke first, saying what was no doubt on all of our minds. She seemed a little calmer now with food in her.

“I don't know,” I answered, feeling a million times better myself now that I had adequate blood sugar and warm clothes. “I guess it had to have been set up after the zombies, but I don't see how – or who would come to see them.”

“Unless someone came along and started it back up,” Sonya said, adding her two cents. Felicity and I turned our attention to her and waited for her to finish. “It makes sense right? So the circus is set up here in the middle of nowhere at a place where it will be easy to get all the animals and equipment off the tracks. It's safer for townspeople too, and there is plenty of parking. But then Z Day hits and none of them make it out. Eventually the power runs out and the fun stops. Until someone decides to gas the generator back up again.”

“But why?” I asked.

“Who knows,” Sonya shrugged. “Maybe to lure in survivors and attack them, or just because they could. Lord knows there've been plenty of things demolished in the name of sport since Z Day. Maybe someone came along and wanted to relive their childhood fantasy of running away to the circus. People will go to all sorts of lengths just to get back a little bit of how things used to be, or to chase down the ghost of a memory from before the world fell apart.”

“So they just got sick of it and wandered off?” For the first time all night there was no sarcasm in Felicity's tone.

“I don't know,” Sonya said softly. “Maybe.”

“It doesn't make sense,” Felicity replied. “Why go to all that work just to walk away from it?”

“Sure it does,” I said. “Think about it. Someone stumbled onto this place just like we did. Maybe even one of the military guys saw it from the train and decided to come back here when he went AWOL. Who knows?”

“Right, but…” Felicity started, but I cut her off.

“Let's just go with this for a minute,” I said, holding up my hand. She smiled and nodded for me to finish.

God I love her, I thought, feeling better about the direction things were heading in, for no reason at all.

“Go on,” Sonya prodded.

“Right,” I said, plowing on. “So whoever it was, they decide to crank things back up. They bust their hump to get the place running, but after wandering around for a while, maybe instead of feeling better, the whole thing just reminds them of all that they've lost. Instead of making them happy, it just makes them all the more sad about the reality of life as we know it now.”

“Exactly,” Sonya chimed in.

“It's not like they're going to go around shutting out all the lights and turning off the machines, is it? I mean there's no reason to anymore at that point. It doesn't matter if the circus runs twenty-four hours a day, because it's not like they're paying for it. So they steal a car or wander off and just leave it going full blast.”

“Then we came along,” Felicity said, joining in the fantasy.

“Right,” I said. “You realize that somewhere inside that carnival there has to be a set of keys that fits one of these cars.”

“Xander,” Felicity said in a small voice, “we can't risk going in. What if there are zombies inside, or worse? What if the guy who cranked this place up is just taking a break to turn the other victims he lured into his freak show into lampshades? There's just too much that can go wrong.”

“I know we'd be taking a chance,” I protested, “but the rewards are too great not to give it a try. It will take the rest of the night, and well into tomorrow, to manually operate the handcart.”

“I don't know,” Sonya replied, shaking her head. “I'm with Felicity Jane on this one, Xander. It's too risky. What if the power goes out once we're inside? There are too many unknown factors that could go wrong.”

“Besides,” Felicity said, eager to add to the list of reasons my plan was a bad idea. “We can always siphon gas from the cars to get the handcart running again. If we spend an hour collecting petrol, we can be to Paradise City by morning.”

“And then what? I'm not sure you recall the luck we had last time we were in that part of the world. You got a free body modification in the form of an arrow piercing through your arm, and I nearly got turned into a zombie.”

Don't say it in front of her, I thought, shooting a look at Felicity. Don't mention to Sonya that there is a cure for the zombie plague. She'll either think you're crazy, or demand to know where it's being kept. Either way you'll come off as crazy. Why did I even bring that up?

To my great relief, Felicity didn't say a word.

“If we get back on that thing and start chugging along, we're going to be sitting ducks,” I continued. “Eventually we're going to roll into trouble. There's no way to avoid it. At the very least, we lose control of our choices. At worst we end up being killed and eaten. And let's not forget how much protection the handcart offers in the event of another zombie horde. Zilch!”

“Go on,” Sonya said, as I came to a dramatic halt.

“All I am saying is that if we can find keys to start one of these cars we'll be much better off. Not only will it shelter us from the elements and pesky things like, I don't know, arrows and bullets, but it will also allow us to control where we end up. Is it risky? Sure. No doubt about it. But the rewards are much greater. I say it's worth taking the chance.”

They stared at me as I wrapped up my pitch, looking back and forth from each other to me as if they were thinking about my argument, but I knew it was already decided. It just made too much sense not to give it a shot.

I got up and shook the dust off my new ringmaster outfit.

“It's settled then,” I said with a certain finality, grateful that they weren't starting up new arguments with one another. “Follow me ladies.”

I turned and sauntered over to the front of the circus tent, the music growing louder as I went. I felt confident that good things were in store. Sure we had trouble, but we always managed to stay ahead of it or find a way out of it. Things were definitely looking up. We'd ditched the bikers, outran a zombie horde, and I'd finally found some clothing. I even kind of liked my new duds.

I could get used to wearing a top hat, I thought, as I walked into the entrance of the main tent. What I saw next froze me in place, the feeling of dread overwhelming me. Ringed by stained bleachers was a bloody stage with various human remains strewn across it. There was a pole on either side of the raised platform, and chained to these by heavy ropes of metal chain that connected to solid metal neck collars were two giant sized zombie men. The smell of metal and rotting flesh mixed with the stale smell of beer and cigarettes. Glancing down again I saw a trail of what looked like kids’ fingers leading to my feet. There must have been at least fifty little pieces of twisted bone and nail. I fought back the urge to throw up, but I couldn't stop the rising feeling of bile in my throat. I could hear Sonya and Felicity moving slowly behind me. I tried to wave them off with my hand, but I could no longer speak for fear of blowing chunks the minute I opened my mouth. A loud buzzing in my ear confirmed that the veil of dark moving objects stirring over the mutilated parts of corpses were indeed flies.

I've got to warn them, I thought. I've got to stop Felicity from seeing this before it's too late. She can't see the dead bodies of children. It's not right to make her see that twice in so few days.

Before I could do anything, I heard a loud gasp behind me and knew it was too late. I heard Felicity's soft, trembling voice speak behind me.

“Xander? What is this place?”

I leaned forward, no longer able to fight back my physical revulsion. The last thing I heard, as I began throwing up the salty sweet contents of my stomach, was the blast of the shotgun going off.

Chapter Eighteen

Felicity screamed and ran toward me, grabbing me by my shoulders. The top hat I'd been wearing flew off my head; pieces of the black felt were showering down over my hair and mixing with the puke, spent cigarette butts, and crumpled up money. I felt Felicity covering me with her body, protecting me from a possible second shot. I turned my head in time to see a biker with greasy black hair, and a scar running down his face, fleeing down the aisle that curved away from us. Sonya was on him before I had time to catch my breath and yell out. With two quick hops she was in the stands and right on his tail. She brought him down at the edge of an exit row by kicking his feet out from underneath him. The biker howled as he went tumbling with a jarring clatter, presumably from smashing into something hard and metallic. I looked back over to the bench behind me where he'd been sitting. There was a shotgun resting on the seat, now at eye level with me. Smoke coiled out of the right barrel. On instinct I shot my hand to my head, then brought it back looking for blood. I didn't seem to be hit anywhere. The shot had missed me by less than an inch.

If I hadn't leaned over to throw up just when I did, that guy would have blown my head clean off, I thought. I wouldn't have even known what happened. I'd just be gone, no chance to say goodbye to Felicity or Moto or Benji.

I stood up and anger flooded through me, giving me new strength. It spread through me like hot lava burning away my fear and filling me with the need for vengeance.

“Are you okay? Are you hit?”

I turned to see the fear in Felicity Jane's eyes, and it only fueled my new hatred.

“Yeah,” I said, doing my best to hold my powerful rage in check. “I'm fine. He missed.”

“I've got him,” Sonya announced behind us. I turned back after holding Felicity's stare for an extra moment. I marched over to where Sonya had the biker pinned down and squirming on the ground.

“Lemme go! Lemme go!” the dirt covered would-be assassin crooned. There was a fresh wound on his head from where he'd careened into a pole in his failed attempt to escape.

“You heard him,” I calmly said. “Let him go.”

I smiled at Sonya as she stared at me in shock and confusion. She let go of his jacket and he leaped to his feet like a jack-in-the-box, his eyes nervously darting around in search of a new exit plan.

Before he could get his bearings, I lunged forward with lightning speed and delivered a hard punch right between his eyes. The force of the impact knocked his uncertain legs clean out from underneath him again. For the second time in just minutes, the biker lay bleeding in the dirt. I walked forward slowly and he held up his hand.

“Okay man, okay! You win all right? I'll do whatever you want! Please, just don't hit me again!”

“You can start by telling me who you are and why you tried to blow my head off,” I said, standing over him and drawing my shimmering katana blade out for emphasis.

You should cut him in half for what he just did, a dark voice in my head told me. What if you'd let Felicity go in first, the voice continued. She'd be dead right now because of this monster. Do it. It's what he deserves, the voice screamed, but I fought it back with all the effort I could muster.

“My name is Sydney,” he stuttered out, “but they call me Skeeter now.”

He pointed to his biker vest. It bore the Alphas’ symbol on the front, and a patch that read PROSPECT.

“They ought to call you Coward. That sounds about right for a guy who just tried to blow my brains out without so much as a fair warning,” I said, turning my blade over in my hands as menacingly as possible. “Care to tell me what that was all about, Skeeter?”

“I was left here to watch over the place,” he squealed, his eyes darting around like mad. “I was given strict instructions to take out anyone I didn't recognize, anyone not wearing their colors.”

“Who else is here?”

“Just me,” he spat out as quickly as he could. “Just me man. I swear.”

“If you're lying to me it's going to come out,” I warned him. “And when it does I won't be as patient as I'm being right now, but I will take my time on you. I can promise you that. So I'm gonna ask again, one last time, who else is here?”

“I'm not lying,” he whined, looking like he might just wet himself on the spot. “You gotta believe me. Another tribe showed up last night during the final show of the evening. The big chiefs had a sit down with a lot of shouting. The next thing I knew they were all taking off, their guys and ours too. I'm still patching in so I got left on guard detail with a single shot to defend the tents. That's all I know.”

“Where did they go? You must have heard something.”

“All I heard them say was that they were tracking someone and they needed backup. For all I know they could return any minute now.”

I turned and shared another dark stare with Felicity.

It's us they're looking for, I thought. This is connected to us.

“Or they could be dead,” Sonya suggested. “You might be joining your friends sooner than you think.”

“Hold on now,” Skeeter pleaded, holding his hands up high. “I was just doing what I was told man. Last night was my first night on duty. Like I said, I'm a new recruit.”

“Which brings me to my next question,” I scowled, moving slowly closer to him, sword still in hand. “What exactly is this place? Those look like the fingers of little kids.”

I turned and pointed with my katana to the stage.

“And those look like two massive zombies with fresh blood on them,” I accused, my voice trembling with rage again.

“I don't know man,” Skeeter defended himself, no longer making eye contact. He looked like he was resigned to being killed any minute. “I told you I'm new.”

“There is crumpled money on the ground,” I shouted. “What do you mean you don't know?! You've been killing kids for sport while people bet on it!”

“No man! I just go where I'm told. I'm just following orders,” Skeeter said guardedly, still not looking up, his head lolling from side to side, while his greasy curtain of matted hair swayed back and forth barely concealing his guilty eyes.

“Get up,” I demanded. He stumbled to his feet, still not able to look me in the eyes. Sonya came over and steadied him, taking his arm and making him face me. “Let's take a closer look.”

I began to walk to the platform, ignoring the terrified look on Felicity's face. From behind me I heard Sonya roughly shoving Skeeter forward.

“You heard him, mosquito,” she jeered. “Get moving.”

Skeeter let his feet drag like a little kid who didn’t want to go to the dentist. The sound of it irritated me more than his sniveling, and once again I felt the desire to chop him into equal halves and use his corpse to feed the moaning beasts on stage. I walked up onto the platform, nearly slipping as I stepped into a puddle of dark red blood gone cold. I walked cautiously up to one of the zombie giants. He must have been a body builder in his former life, before he'd been bitten. He stood over six and a half feet with a broad chest the size of two regular men. He was a wall of pure muscle honed over the years, maybe even decades. His eyes had crusted over in a milky shade of white, but he expertly sniffed the air as I approached, sensing that I was there. I could see bite marks on his shoulders and neck that hadn't healed. They almost looked planned, as if someone had intentionally taken an innocent man just for his size, and forced him to become this horrible mindless killing machine against his will, then set him loose on unsuspecting children. I heard the wooden stairs groan as Skeeter approached, Sonya behind him pushing him along. I turned to see Felicity looking scared and not speaking, her eyes big and wide, as she waited to see what I would do next. The zombie lunged at me, stopping inches away from me with a ghoulish, bloodcurdling howl that washed over my face like a cold, rotten breeze from an uprooted cemetery. Felicity gasped, then went silent again. I turned back to Skeeter.

“Take a good look,” I commanded.

“No man,” Skeeter cried, his voice rising high as tears leaked out of his eyes. “Please don't feed me to him man. Please. I was just doing what I was told. I'm new man.”

“Prospect,” I snorted. “This is what you want to be a part of? A pack of men no better than animals, who think no more of a human life than to throw helpless children to monsters and take bets on how long they will last or how they will die?”

“I didn't know man,” Skeeter blubbered, falling to his knees in the mess of bodily fluids smeared on the killing platform. “I swear man. They brought me here last night. That's the first time I've ever even seen the place. Honest. What was I supposed to do?”

“So why didn't you leave when they took off?” Felicity's voice sounded strangely calm, but a fire burned in her eyes I could not mistake. She wanted him dead just as much as I did. She was using all her strength to fight back her rage, just as I was. What had happened in those tents was too despicable for words. No normal human being could stomach it. The urge to eradicate all who were responsible for it, to hunt them down one at a time and bring them to justice, was nearly overwhelming and yet somehow totally natural.

“And go where? Huh? You think of that? Alphas are everywhere now. They're connected to the Warriors. Hell, they're even in bed with Unity Gang. If I took off, they'd just run me down like they did the night they took over my trailer park and grabbed my wife and son.”

“Liar,” I yelled in his face. “Alphas don't take hostages and then make them new members. They kill for sport. Everyone knows that. They torture their victims for fun, then eat them.”

“That's what I thought too,” he said, shaking his head. “But that's not what happened. It doesn't matter if you believe me. In fact it doesn't matter if you kill me.”

He looked up for the first time and made eye contact with me. I held his stare, but I couldn't tell if it was a well-rehearsed act or not.

“Why's that?”

“Because once the big chief finds out that the kids they were looking for came here and I let them escape, they're going to kill me anyway,” he said in a soft voice, looking back down at his blood soaked clothing. “They'll probably make me watch my family die first, then feed me to one of these guys.”

“No one has to know we were here,” I said, offering him a way out. “On one condition.”

His face lit up as he looked in my eyes again.

“Name it.”

“We need a vehicle. You get us keys to something we can drive out of here, and we'll leave you in one piece. What you tell your boss is up to you at that point.”

Sonya looked outraged, but Felicity caught her attention and with a shake of her head cautioned her not to interrupt.

“Deal,” he agreed, reaching into his pocket and fishing out keys. “My truck is through the back there. Just unlock the gate and head to the back of the trailers. You can't miss it.”

He held the keys out toward me, hope glistening in his teary eyes.

“Not so fast,” I warned, motioning for him to stand up. “You'll have to forgive me if I don't take you at your word, Skeeter, considering the cowardly way you almost took my head off back there. Tell you what, why don't we go together? You get us in that truck of yours and on our way, and in exchange we promise to let you live.”

“Sure,” he said a little too quickly. “I get it. No problem man. Let's do it.”

He shot back to his feet and began heading off stage.

“Slow down,” I cautioned him. “Unless you want a matching lump on your head, you're gonna wanna stay within a few feet of me and my friends. I'm not letting you lead us into some trap without making sure you're caught in it right along with us.”

“This ain't no trap,” he sang out, but I shook my head and he fell quiet. To the right of the stage I saw the remains of the top half of a girl. There was something familiar in the sad, vacant stare on her face. Then I recognized her.

“Airi,” I murmured. “God no.”

“Xander don't,” Sonya cautioned, but it was too late. I ran forward and leaned over the lifeless body, confirming my suspicion.

“Who is that?” Felicity asked.

“I'm not sure,” Sonya said.

I stood back up and turned away.

“She was the girl left behind to watch me at Hellfire to make sure I didn't escape,” I said. “She failed when you sprung me so I guess this was her punishment, to be sent here to die at the hands of mindless zombies, while other people laughed at her.”

“That one came in last night,” Skeeter offered, trying to be helpful. “The other tribe brought her. She jumped the line and got put on right away.”

“What do you mean, she jumped the line?”

The words were out of Felicity's mouth before I could speak, but I was thinking the exact same thing. I knew the answer would only make it harder to keep my promise not to kill Skeeter, but I had to hear him say it.

“They bring in the cattle in order of capture, usually,” he said.

“Cattle?”

“That's what they call 'em,” he spit on the ground. “Some of the guys call 'em the entertainment, but most call 'em cattle.”

“And how do they get these cattle?”

“Generally the same way they got me,” he said. “They ride into an unprotected area and kill anyone who fights back. Then they divide up the women and children into categories for sale as food or slaves or entertainment. We get sent the cattle, mostly kids. Every now and then, traitors or enemies show up and get put to the front of the line.”

“I thought you said last night was your first night,” I reminded him, exposing his glaring, bald-faced lie.

“It was,” Skeeter protested, shaking his hands for emphasis, “but that don't mean I never heard anyone else talk about it. They kept me in a small prison cell and beat me for information. I used to be a local cop. Plenty of times they told me how I would end up here when they were done with me. Said it was better than watching me dig my own grave. Eventually they broke me with the threat of killing my family. I'm not proud of what I've done, but I'd do it again for my wife and son. I just hope they're still in one piece, wherever they are.”

Sonya, Felicity, and I all exchanged looks once more. I wasn't sure I believed him, but I also knew we didn't have much of a choice at this point. We needed his help to get out of there, but first I had to see for my own eyes that we weren't leaving any kids behind for these monsters.

“Where do you keep them? The prisoners.”

“The kids you mean? Out back in the pens. That's why they call 'em cattle. They got them locked up until they're ready to perform.”

“How many are back there?”

“Pens can hold up to a hundred kids, but usually they don't keep more than a weeks worth of cattle at a time,” he said with a shrug. “They're too hard to feed and care for. Alphas aren't known for being motherly types, if you know what I mean. We ran out of live bait early because of the big emergency. Last thing the boss man did before he left was let all of them loose at once. It was a slaughter, as you can see. After that everyone just took off.”

“Take me to the pens,” I said, the bile rising back up in me. “Now!”

“It's your world, boss man,” Skeeter said, turning and walking slowly out in front of us. We followed him back through a series of flaps to a large gated area that cut the circus tents off from a walled community of trailers sitting idly by – and to the animal cages. He fumbled nervously with the padlock. Sonya slapped him upside the head, right on his juicy bruise, and he let out a fresh cry of pain.

“Quit stalling,” she advised him.

He snapped the lock apart and pulled the squeaky gate open. Casting cautious glances, he made a beeline past empty iron cages filled with dead animal corpses riddled with bite marks. There were the remains of lions and bears and zebra, all now covered in thick moving blankets of flies. One last cage had an angry-looking elephant that paced back and forth, knocking against the bars of its cage. It let out a loud roar when it saw us.

“What the hell is going on?” Felicity asked.

“Looks like they've been using the circus animals they found as part of the act,” Sonya said with disgust. “And when they're done, they just feed them to the giants.”

“Close,” Skeeter said, a strange look crossing his face as he smiled, “but no cigar.”

“Where are the kids kept?” I demanded.

“Here are the pens,” Skeeter said, his smile growing as he pointed to a series of wooden boxes sitting in the grass behind him. I moved forward to see they all had tiny scratches covering the outside. They reeked of piss and fear, but were otherwise empty. Glancing down I saw that there were no locks on the boxes. It didn't make any sense.

“There are no locks on the pens,” I pointed out. “How exactly did you keep the cattle from escaping?”

“We didn't have to,” he giggled, looking like the tables had turned for him. “They did it for us.”

Before I could ask what he meant, Skeeter threw back his head and let out a long, high-pitched whistle. The question died on my lips, as I heard the sound of low moaning coming from all sides of us in stereo. I turned to see an impossible sight, and my mind reeled in sheer terror. Rows of blood splattered zombie clowns were closing in on us from every side.

“Xander,” Felicity called out. “What are we gonna do?”

Before I could answer, Skeeter turned and bolted, sliding under one of the trailers and scurrying out the other side. A moment later I heard the sound of his bike being fired up, the loud rumbling only drawing more of the nightmarish monster clowns in our direction.

“See you suckers in hell,” Skeeter cried out, as he pulled back on his throttle and ripped off into the early dawn.

I raced to Felicity's side along with Sonya, who had begun to turn in wide circles, her lips moving like she was trying to count them all.

“This doesn't look good,” Felicity cried.

“Don't worry,” I said, holding her tight as we backed toward the animal cages. “I'll think of something.”

“You better do it fast,” Sonya said. “We're running out of time.”

“I hate clowns,” Felicity wept, turning her scared face into my neck and shoulders and burrowing in. “Please, Xander, make them go away! I can't die like this.”

“I'm working on it,” I promised, holding my sword up and trying to come up with a plan. My mind raced, but try as I might, all I could do was focus on the gnashing teeth of the zombie clown horde descending on us, as if a dinner bell had just been rung. There were easily a hundred of them, maybe more. I wouldn't be able to cut them down before they reached us. There were just too many of them to take on at once!

Think! There has to be a way out of this! It was no use. My mind was stuck on the terrible, streaked faces, torn with gashes, leaking pus and oozing black gunk, hungrily making their way straight to us.

The elephant behind us roared once more, making Felicity shriek in fear. I could feel the air move, we were so close to the trumpeting, and my ears were sharply ringing. The elephant stomped hard and rattled the bars of its cage for good measure, the padlock on the iron cage rattling against the rusty metal. Suddenly everything became clear.

“I've got it,” I exclaimed, “but you're not going to like it.”

“What is it?” Felicity's eyes brimmed with fear like I'd never seen before.

“Just stay right by my side no matter what happens. When I move you move, you got that?”

“I got it,” Felicity babbled, her lips trembling. “Xander, please don't let me die. Please don't let these clowns eat me!”

“None of us are going to die,” I promised, turning to Sonya who seemed to understand my plan without me having to tell her. “On three, got it?”

“Got it,” Sonya mouthed her approval, picking up a metal pipe out of the grass near her feet.

“One, two...”

Please let this work, I silently prayed.

“...three!”

Chapter Nineteen

With one swift movement I turned and brought down my katana blade, connecting with the padlock to the elephant's cage. The lock offered little resistance to my sword, falling away into the crop of sprouting weeds clumped around the edges of the animal cages. What happened next reminded me in so many ways of a bomb going off. First there was a booming crash, then the earth shook around us as a terrible roaring came over us in stereo, and finally the mangled body parts of zoms began to rain over us in revolting chunks.

It's almost like the explosion at Hueneme, I thought. After General Conrad blew the trenches.

“Get down!” I yelled, crouching into a huddle with Felicity as the elephant came charging out of the cage, violently knocking the door completely off its hinges. Sonya did her best to huddle into a ball as well, but the majestic beast ignored us all and went straight for the mob of zombie clowns, knocking down the first row and trampling them under its massive feet. Slowly we backed into the elephant cage, motioning for Sonya to join us.

“Stay absolutely still,” I said in a low voice; and once more we all crouched together, watching as the swelling number of ghoulish hell clowns ambled past us and toward the source of the commotion. Soon they were all clawing and biting at the elephant, but unable to slow it down. Their hands and teeth were not strong enough to pierce the tough animal’s wrinkled skin. Instead, they had been trampled underfoot like grapes in a wine vat, their thick dark blood staining the legs of the bucking beast a deep shade of burgundy.

“Xander,” Felicity whispered, tugging at my arm. “We can't stay in the cage forever. We need to find a way out of this place before it's too late.”

“Skeeter went that way,” Sonya pointed off in one direction. “That means there must be a way out over this cluster of tent folds if we head in that direction.”

“Still a lot of traffic over in that general area,” I chimed in. “I have another idea.”

Without explaining, I stood up and walked slowly out of the cage. Felicity waved her arms to call me back, giving me a look that showed she clearly thought I'd gone crazy again, just as I had in Paradise City before I'd been bitten. I walked to the side of a tent wall and raised my sword. With one silent-but-committed swipe, I cut a vent through the colorful fabric revealing a patch of dirt road just outside that wound around toward the parking lot. We'd come back over to the front of the tents without even realizing it.

“This way,” I motioned. “Hurry.”

Felicity and Sonya scurried out of the elephant cage and over to me. They hustled through the opening I'd slit in the cartoon-colored wall, and I didn't waste a second before following them. It didn't take much for us to stand out as a tasty alternative to an angry elephant. Several clusters of decomposing death-clowns had picked up our rapid movement and turned their attention back to us as an easy meal. By the time I had fought my way through the narrow aperture, my left foot catching on the fabric at the last second and sending me staggering into a dusty roll on the loose gravel road, there were already several grayish, bite covered, bloody arms reaching out for me like crazed fans at a rock show demanding an encore. Luckily for us, they weren't as nimble or as coordinated and were unable to navigate the impossibly small portal to follow us. I held my katana and turned to make sure we were still alone. There were no signs of the living or the dead around us, but off in the distance I could hear the rattling hum of bikes once again being carried in our direction on the honeysuckle sweet, high desert wind.

“Do you hear that?” I asked.

“Sounds like Skeeter found his buddies,” Sonya commented, spitting on the ground in disgust. Felicity glared at her, shocked by her complete lack of manners. We were a ridiculous-looking bunch, me in my Big Top Ringmaster outfit and the girls in torn and dirty Western debutante dresses, one a cornflower blue and the other a light shade of stained mustard. I was just so ecstatic to have avoided being eaten alive by an ocean of terrifying clown-faced zombie demons that I had to fight back the mad desire to laugh.

“We never found any car keys,” Felicity reminded us. “How are we supposed to stay ahead of them on foot? They'll run us down in no time. Xander, why didn't we just siphon the gas? You were almost shot, I just got to relive my worst nightmare from childhood, and now not only are we nowhere closer to safety, but our enemies know exactly where we are!”

“Please tell me that you're not putting this on me right now,” I said, feeling totally blown away. “You want me to go back in there and fight off some clowns to get a set of keys? I'll do it. Just say the word and I'll fight my way back through those monsters for your keys.”

Felicity looked hurt by my comments and immediately I regretted them.

What does she want from me? I thought. We're all tired here. We're all trying to do our best. We all fought death and almost died.

“What are we going to do about the elephant?” Sonya asked, breaking the awkward silence between us. I turned on her, happy to have a new target.

“Now you want to start in on me? Is that it? What are we supposed to do?”

The elephant let out a loud roar.

“We can't just leave her in there,” Sonya said crossly, throwing me a dirty look.

“We don't have time for this,” I said, rubbing my eyes and shaking my head. “If we keep fighting and arguing, we're not going to make it. They're heading this way.”

“You were the one who wanted to argue,” Felicity reminded me. I sighed.

“I'm sorry,” I said. “I didn't mean to snap at either of you.”

They both looked at me, waiting for me to say something that would undermine my apology, offer some kind of justification for my foul mood, or assign blame someplace else. When I didn't, they both seemed to soften.

“It's no problem,” Sonya shrugged. “We're all worn pretty thin at this point.”

“What we need is a plan,” Felicity offered, touching my arm to let me know she wasn't upset anymore.

“I've got an idea,” Sonya said. “Can I borrow your weapon?”

She held her hand out to me and I froze. I never willingly gave up my blade. Felicity gave me a look, and I relented. The truth is, we were running out of time. If we were going to make it out in one piece I was going to have to trust her, at least for the time being. I reluctantly handed my sword to Sonya.

“Don't worry,” she said with a smirk. “I'll take good care of her. Stay back until I call you, got it?”

“Got it,” I said. “What are you planning on doing?”

Sonya didn't answer, but instead jogged over to the side of the tent wall and began hacking open a new door right in the side. Felicity and I watched in horror as zombie clowns poured out of the fresh wound, led by one green-wigged giant in big clown shoes that let out a noisy honk with each fresh step. Sonya retreated slowly, doing her best to cut them down as they followed her. I was amazed by how deftly she wielded the blade, like a trained warrior. Her movements were fluid and certain. Rays of the early morning sun danced across the blade as she effortlessly brought down one terrifying monster after another.

“What is she doing?” I said aloud, not really expecting an answer.

“It's like she's trying to take them out by herself,” Felicity replied, sounding just as stunned as I felt.

“There are too many,” I groaned, shaking my head. “And we definitely don't have time for this right now.”

The Alphas will be here any minute, I thought, panic rising in my chest like a hot air balloon. I rubbed the back of my head, unconsciously thinking about where the Chieftain had brought his cane down onto my skull. He's bound to hit me a lot harder this time. Plus, who knows what they'll do to Felicity if they catch us.

“What do we do?” Felicity looked genuinely puzzled.

“What can we do?” I answered, feeling queasy.

Sonya turned and ran back a short distance. The clowns were hot on her trail, their white painted faces cracked with streaked lines of blood drooling from their dull eyes and hungry mouths. Sonya brought her hand up to her lips and let out a high-pitched whistle. I felt the ground move in response, and for a moment I imagined she had the power to summon spirits up from the earth that would call these demons back to hell. The fact that she didn't return to her crouched fighting stance only further solidified the illusion that she might harbor some supernatural power. It all became clear when the flap she'd sliced open exploded outward as the elephant came charging toward her, trampling the hellish biters in the process.

“What is she doing?”

“She'll be killed,” Felicity said, looking on in terror.

Sonya stood, unmoving. She raised her hand up to the elephant as it approached and, like magic, the massive animal came to a halt in front of her, leaning its large head down to her tiny palm and allowing her to pet it between the eyes.

“The elephant’s like a big pet dog,” I said in wonder.

“How is she doing that?” Felicity asked in disbelief.

“The same way she did with Black Beauty, I suppose.” I had no other words to explain it.

Sonya was cooing high-pitched approval to her new friend, but we were too far away to make out exactly what she was telling the beast. Then, as if to oblige her, the elephant knelt down and let Sonya climb onto her back, extending her front leg like an elegant curtsy. With effortless grace Sonya turned the well-trained circus animal in our direction and guided her over to us.

“This sorta solves two problems at once,” Sonya said.

“I don't see how we are going to stay ahead of guys on bikes while riding on the back of this elephant,” I replied. “Sorry if that sounds like I'm being negative.”

“It's simple,” Sonya explained. “Alphas can only use the roads and dirt paths to follow us. With Nelly here, we can go right over hills and all sorts of places a motorized vehicle never could in a million years. You know what they say, the shortest distance between two points...”

“...is a straight line,” Felicity added, finishing her sentence. “It's better than nothing. Can you get her to kneel back down again so we can get on? No time to waste.”

“Sure,” Sonya agreed, looking happy to finally be making some headway with Felicity after all the bickering and distrust. She leaned over and whispered in the elephant's ear and once more the great animal knelt down. We scrambled on her wide back and she stood up quickly, causing me to nearly tumble off the other side.

“Careful now,” Sonya said. “Nelly doesn't come with seat belts, you know.”

“How do you know her name?” Felicity asked, sounding genuinely curious rather than just trying to nettle her again.

“I don't,” Sonya admitted. “When I was a kid my mom used to sing to me at bedtime. One of her favorites was about an elephant that ran away from the circus to live in the jungle. The name of the elephant was Nelly. It just seemed to fit.”

“It's as good a name as any I guess.” I was looking back at the growing number of menacing zombie clowns headed our way through the massive hole the animal had torn through her former home.

“Besides, the only other elephant I could think of was Babar and he's a boy,” Sonya offered. “She seems to like it though; don't you, Nelly?”

Nelly curled up her trunk and playfully touched the top of Sonya's messy hair in reply.

“I hate to cut this short, but we need to keep moving if we don't all want to end up like poor Airi back in there,” I reminded her.

“You're right,” Sonya agreed. “Nelly, get us the hell out of here.”

With no further instruction the beast simply began walking forward, heading off into the dry scrub-covered hills further northwest. Her whole back vibrated as she moved, effortlessly carrying us all, as if we didn't weigh more than a feather pillow.

Speaking of feather pillows, I thought, I could really use a comfortable place to lie down and rest.

I turned and looked back. The tents were receding in the distance behind us, growing smaller and smaller. There were still no signs of bikers, but I knew they weren't far off. They'd be able to track us easily by simply following Nelly's massive footprints, and so far there wasn't much in the way of terrain that a bike couldn't easily navigate. In fact, we were coming up on a stretch of highway.

“I've got an idea,” I said. “Can you steer her onto that paved road?”

“Sure,” Sonya smiled, leaning in that direction. Nelly slowly veered onto the blacktop. “Now what?”

“Now we wait for a particularly rough patch of terrain we can guide her into in the next few miles,” I replied. “That way we give the Alphas some guesswork.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Sonya said.

On we journeyed for what felt like almost an hour. The sun rose over us and began to beat down on our heads. I wished that I still had my top hat. Felicity tore another part of her dress off, using the fabric to fashion a makeshift headscarf. I took off my heavy coat, and we made a blanket to sit on over Nelly's rough skin. Then I wound my tuxedo shirt into a sort of turban to ward off overheating. Sonya laughed at both of us.

We must look crazy, I thought. Not that it matters, as long as this works.

Eventually, we came to a small creek bed with a river flowing along it. Nelly didn't need encouragement. She galloped down the embankment and frolicked in the water, drinking and splashing playfully, and spraying us with cooling mist from her trunk.

“This is perfect,” Felicity said, looking relieved for the first time since the train.

“Keep her moving up the river bed,” I suggested. “If we come out up there by those trees, they'll never be able to follow our prints.”

“A good tracker would be able to figure it out,” Sonya laughed, “but something tells me it's gonna take those Alphas a while to catch on to the trick. Good call, kid.”

I tried not to bristle at being called a kid by a girl only a few years older than me.

Let it go man, I thought. She's trying to give you a compliment.

“How do we know which direction to head?”

“That's easy,” Sonya answered. “During the day we can use the location of the sun and when night comes we'll be able to use the constellations to determine our trajectory.”

“Where did you learn all that?” Felicity asked.

“From my brother,” Sonya replied. “He was a great teacher. ”

“I know the feeling,” I said. Sonya smiled.

“Hopefully we'll be back before sundown,” Sonya said encouragingly.

“Really?” It was hard not to share the same hope so obvious in Felicity's voice.

“I mean, you never know what might happen between now and then to throw off our progress but, as far as I can tell, we're only a day or less from our final destination by elephant, maybe less since we don't have to waste any time winding around God's road blocks.”

Before we could reply, Sonya let out a cry and goaded Nelly up out of the riverbed and through a thicket of trees. Felicity fell back and grabbed my hand as we took off up a sharp embankment and onto a hill. Five minutes later we reached the peak and were able to see a better view of the valley below. In the distance, the circus tents we'd come from were now on fire. Black smoke bellowed into the sky as tiny orange flames danced around the tent’s festive striped panels.

“Looks like they made it back to camp,” I said.

“I'm glad we weren't there to witness it,” Sonya said.

“Me too,” Felicity added. “Thank you.”

Sonya looked like she was about to say something, but decided against it at the last moment. She guided Nelly down into a rolling valley of dry grass and bushes, and then into a darker patch of trees. Soon the bikers and the zombie clowns and the terrible images of mutilated children were just a fading memory. Hunger and thirst were the only things on our minds as we trekked through open, wild lands unspoiled by habitation. Sonya began talking about stopping to track rabbits or prairie dogs for dinner, but by lunchtime we'd stumbled onto a wooded cabin long since forgotten.

Felicity practically yanked the old wooden door off its hinges to get to the fresh drinking water. The cabin's kitchen was cool and cramped. The kitchen had spoiled milk and rotting leftovers, including a half eaten rainbow trout. The cupboard had beef stew in tins, crackers, and cans of generic brand pasta with meat sauce. There was over half a tank of propane, from what I could gather, and everything from the showers to the stove ran on it. Sonya and I took turns cleaning up and keeping a lookout, while Felicity got the stove working and started heating up some stew. Sonya went first and came back out looking like a different person now that she no longer had a thick coat of dirt and zombie guts covering her. She'd found a pair of guy’s jeans that fit her, and somehow still managed to show off her figure. She'd turned a dark men's dress shirt into some kind of top as well, bunching everything up and tying the arms around the front, bare-midriff style. Her eyes sparkled mischievously as she came over to let me know it was my turn.

After I got out of the shower I discovered why. I'd spent a good long time letting the hot water wash over me, and lathering my face and hair with the bar of Irish Spring left behind, to try to get the gasoline smell out. I was feeling pretty good until I got back into the bedroom and discovered Sonya had taken the only guy’s clothing in the cabin. I pulled out all the drawers looking for more, but all I found were a pair of women’s jeans and a faded old t-shirt. I knew right away that I'd be leaving both for Felicity if I planned on arriving anywhere near happy in the next twenty-four hours.

“Shower’s all yours,” I said, coming up behind Felicity and looking over her shoulder as she stirred the delicious smelling pot of canned stew. I kissed her on the neck and she smiled, shutting off the stove and turning toward me to give me a real kiss. I felt the ground go out from underneath me the moment our lips met.

It feels just like the first kiss we shared, I thought, enjoying the sensation of floating bliss. Maybe this is all we've needed all along to be okay, just some time and space away from the others. As crazy as this trip has been, maybe it will work out for the best.

Felicity stepped back and made a disapproving face, clucking her tongue, as she looked me up and down.

“Why didn't you change into something new like Sonya?”

“I like this outfit,” I lied. “It's fun. It makes this whole thing seem like more of an adventure.”

“You mean rather than us just fleeing for our lives again?”

“Exactly,” I said. “Go clean up. We wanna get back on the road as soon as we can. You heard what Sonya said. We could be closer than we think.”

“We still don't know where she is planning on taking us,” Felicity darkly reminded me.

“That's true,” I admitted. “The good news is that we're still a long way off from New Lompoc and not so far from the base. If something does go down, hopefully we'll be able to light out and make it to a safe haven.”

“I sure hope you're right.”

“Me too.”

She kissed me again and, as difficult as it was, I pushed her away.

“Go quickly before we waste any more time,” I laughed.

“I love you, Xander,” she sighed.

“I love you too, Felicity.”

She turned and walked toward the shower. More than anything I wanted to go with her, but I stayed and stirred the pot. Looking out the window I saw Sonya petting Nelly, the elephant, and feeding her crackers. If I didn't know better, I'd say that Nelly was smiling.

Felicity wasn't gone long, and I was glad since my hunger seemed to be intensifying by the minute in her absence. The stew smelled amazing, but I knew anything would taste good at that point, so long as it wasn't rotten. We ate in silence, devouring our meal in big gulps. When we'd licked the plates clean, Sonya abruptly stood up and announced it was time to leave.

“Where are we going?” Felicity asked. “I think we've earned the right to know at least that much. Don't you?”

“Someplace safe,” Sonya replied without hesitation. “We're almost there now. Then I can finally reveal the truth to you.”

“I'm looking forward to it,” Felicity said unflinchingly, but without her usual malice.

There wasn't much in the way of supplies to be looted from the cabin, but we did find some plastic water bottles and loaded them up with drinking water. We took our time climbing back up on Nelly, who looked reluctant to leave after having become convinced she had already arrived at her new home.

I know exactly how you feel old girl, I thought, locking eyes with the elephant and seeing the intelligence hidden behind them.

The afternoon wore on much like the first part of the day, with long stretches of untouched nature and the heat of the sun beating down on us like an angry, accusing glare. When it seemed I could no longer bear it a second longer the oppressive heat finally broke; the sun was beginning its long arc toward the ocean, leaving us sleepy and lethargic. Try as I might, I could not keep my head up. The gentle thumping of Nelly's steady tromp, along with the rhythmic cadence of nature's hidden insects crying out around us, lulled me into a gentle nap leaning against Felicity's back. The last thing I recalled before going under was hearing her let out a gentle snore herself.

I awoke to the sound of grunting and moaning coming from all sides around me. My eyes were blurry as I rubbed the sleep from them. Felicity was slumped forward over Nelly who had slowed to a cautious crawl and had begun whining, a sound I didn't even know an elephant could make.

I squinted at the gray-looking humanoid objects around me. Before I could make out what they were, the smell hit me – like rotting meat left out in the heat of the midday sun. I fought back the sudden urge to vomit over the side of the beast. Whipping my head around I saw that we were surrounded by zombies of every shape and size; men, women, and children, all tied to trees with ropes around their necks and torsos to hold them in place. Nelly was sauntering down the middle of a two-lane highway, going around a familiar-looking curve.

“Where are we?”

I turned to Felicity who was now yawning and stretching, totally unaware of the new predicament we'd wandered into.

“This isn't good,” I said, trying not to sound as panicked as I was beginning to feel.

“Where is Sonya?”

For the first time I realized she wasn't with us. I turned my head back and forth again, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, but the woman warrior was long gone. The truth was, she could have bailed on us long ago and neither of us would have known. We'd been out cold.

“I don't know,” I confessed. “I just woke up a moment before you did. I was brought around by the sound of all their moaning.”

“You're right,” Felicity murmured. “This is bad.”

“I know I recognize this place, but I don't know where from,” I said, looking around at the resident zombies all lunging, eager to get a taste of us in their terrible mouths. There were more and more of them the further we went into the wooded area. “It almost looks like...”

“Ojai,” Felicity said grimly, her voice trailing off to a near whisper.

“How can that be?”

“We must have come up over the mountains and just descended in this direction,” Felicity suggested. “I'm not sure it's all that important how we got here right now. The further we get down the road, the more zombies I'm seeing. I think we're in trouble, Xander, real trouble.”

I couldn't agree with her more. She was right, after all. There were more and more former humans tied to the trees along the side of the road as we moved deeper toward town. I began to recognize the clothing on some from the night we'd spent as guests of Bryan Crowe. They were his followers, or what remained of them. Someone had come along and turned them into nothing more than hungry corpses. But why? And how? The last I recalled, they'd been both paranoid and armed to the teeth. Whoever had done this must have had some serious backup. They were certainly not people to be playing around with.

I began to see shadows moving quickly between the trees behind the tied-up zombies. I couldn't make out what they were. Every time one would catch my eye, I'd turn toward it only to have it vanish before I could identify it. Meanwhile, another would move from the opposite direction and be picked up on the edge of my peripheral vision. I'd turn back, and it too would cease to exist. I began to fear it might be some sort of vengeance demon, brought to life by Bryan's opportunistic cult, as punishment for his human-to-zombie sacrifices during the monthly harvest festivals on the full moon.

“Xander,” Felicity whispered. “Do you see them?”

“Yes,” I breathed out, speaking as quietly as I could and still be heard.

“What are they?”

“I can't make them out,” I said, speaking low. “But I'm certain they're getting closer.”

All at once they came from every side, leaping out from behind trees and surrounding us at gunpoint. They were swathed from head to toe in dark black, with masks that covered all of their head except for the eye slit.

Ninjas, I thought. Just great! What's next?

“Climb down nice and slow,” they ordered.

Felicity and I instinctively had our hands up in surrender. I turned to look at her, and saw the guys behind us. We had absolutely no chance of slipping out of this one.

“Looks like we've arrived at our destination,” I said grimly. “Thanks for the lift, Nelly.”

I patted the elephant, and then slid off her side to the ground. I reached up to help Felicity do the same. She hesitated and looked around, then realized what I had realized, that there was no safe way to escape, and relented. She landed in my arms and I set her back on her feet. Taking her by the hand, we approached the head ninja in charge who held up his handgun to my face and began to look nervous.

“That's close enough,” he said. “Now take off your sword and set it on the ground.”

“No,” I calmly answered back.

“I said take off your sword,” he started again, but I cut him off.

“And I said no,” I replied, still trying not to sound confrontational despite refusing to comply. “I'm not going to willingly disarm. You've got us surrounded on all sides. You could easily kill us if we attempted to get away. We are completely at your mercy. If that's not enough for you, I'm sorry. I made myself a promise and I intend to keep it. I'm not handing over my blade again. Deal with it.”

Felicity squeezed my hand, as if to suggest that I'd been doing well enough standing my ground without tossing in threats or insults. I gently squeezed back in reply that I got it, and of course I also meant 'once again you are right dear.'

The masked man in front of me looked puzzled. From the amount of time it took him to respond, I gathered that he wasn't used to having this much trouble once he'd moved his ninja hit squad into place. I heard the sound of a vehicle coming our way from behind him. The masked man anxiously turned toward the noise, then back to us.

“Don't move,” he ordered, just as the Jeep came into sight. He turned and walked purposefully toward it as the vehicle came to a halt. Before he could explain the situation, the driver was up and out of the car, hair waving in the breeze as he locked eyes with me and practically ran in my direction. He looked both shocked and pleased, a nasty grin spreading across his face.

“Who is that?” Felicity asked, realizing things had just gone from bad to worse in a hurry.

“That's John from New Lompoc,” I gulped, my mouth going dry.

“I'll be damned!” John proclaimed, stopping just short of me. “We got guys looking all over hell and back for you and the misses there, and what do you do? You just stroll into town and surrender, on the back of an elephant no less! You are something else, you know that?”

“What are you doing in my hometown?” Felicity demanded. “What did you do to all these people?”

“This must be the little lady,” John said, ignoring her question. “I've heard she's a real firecracker. To tell you the truth, I've been looking forward to meeting her. I've only seen pictures of you, Miss Felicity Jane. I gotta say, despite your complete lack of both manners and makeup, I still think you look better in person. I'd even go so far as to say you look good enough to eat.”

I pulled my sword, and the ninjas surrounding us moved slightly closer.

“He refused to disarm, sir,” the head ninja informed John, still slightly out of breath from running to catch up with him.

“Is that right? Well don't you worry about Xander here,” John sang out condescendingly. “He's not much for rules, but he's got himself a conscience, or at least he used to before he murdered my buddy, Tank, in cold blood. Ran him down, and left him to die in a zombie horde. It was a crying shame. His daughter, Tammy, was left absolutely heartbroken. To this day, we can't mention Xander's name without her bursting into tears.”

“And how would you know what happened?” I felt the fire rising up in me. I didn't like to be played with; and I didn’t like the way he was staring at my wife. I also didn't appreciate being disparaged by a man I'd last seen eagerly trading his loyal followers to a zombie horde, to save his own hide.

“I seem to recall you fleeing the scene in that very Jeep, like a coward, and leaving your men to die.”

“That is one hell of a version of events, son,” John howled, making a show of his laughter and smacking his leg. “That's one of the things I love about you, Xander. You always spin things to make it sound like you're the big hero. It's a talent really, not so far removed from an old storyteller spinning a yarn, and about as useful.”

“I'm sorry, but Tank wasn't really your friend,” I countered, feeling puffed up by the truth of my statements. “He'd been lying to you for a long time, and manipulating you. You just couldn't see it. He tried to kill me twice. If anything, he died because you ran and left him behind. If you wanna blame someone, all you need to do is find a mirror.”

“The game is over, kid,” John continued. “You put up a good fight, you ran, you hid behind your friends and let them die for you, but it's over now. You're mine. So if I say that's how it happened, then that's how it happened. Got it?”

“Like I said,” I persisted. “I was there. You weren't.”

“Okay then,” John relented. “Have it your way. I will tell you that I have a very good eyewitness to the accounts of that night, however – one whose judgment and loyalty I've never questioned. Maybe we should have him tell his side of the story, see if that straightens things out.”

“Bring him on,” I laughed contemptuously. “I happen to know for a fact that the only people that made it out of that death trap you set up were me and my pal, Benji.”

John smiled in a way that made me almost sick to my stomach.

“Come on out then,” he called at the top of his lungs. From behind him another larger man exited the Jeep and began heading our way. The closer he got, the worse the feeling in the pit of my stomach became. I didn't recognize him at first because he was riddled with horrific scars that disfigured his arms and head, like lumps of flesh that had been crudely sewn back together by a lazy mortician. He was missing his right eye as well, or presumably so, since it was covered with a black patch making him look like the scariest pirate I could ever imagine. It wasn't until he smiled that I knew who he was, and why the sinking feeling was now blossoming into a full-blown panic attack.

“Well look at you, Sleeping Beauty,” the monster-sized man said in a croaking, unearthly voice. “I almost didn't recognize you without the curly locks of flowing girl hair. Nice buzz cut, kid. You know you didn't have to dress up for the occasion, right?”

“Tank,” was all I could manage to say before the wind seemed to just die in my throat, his name coming out like a forced hiss.

-The End-

Praise for Zombie Attack! Army of the Dead

"Army of the Dead is bursting at the seams with treachery, misdirection, and teenage angst. It will engage readers..."

--SHANA FESTA, The Bookie Monster

"Army of the Dead is an incredible story. It's filled with constant character development, multi layered plots, romance, intrigue, even some tongue in cheek humor that gave me a few chuckles along the way...a nonstop thrill ride from start to finish."

--BLOOD, SWEAT & BOOKS

"Sagliani makes the conception of a compelling tale appear effortless. His sense of comedic relief interwoven with rising tension, relatable characters and plot development is the stuff of a veteran story teller that resonates among his audience long after the final chapter."

-- DAVE GAMMON, Horror News

"A meaty story, worthy of a read."

--HORROR AFTER DARK

"A plot that will keep you on your toes at all times! I definitely recommend this series to all zombie fanatics everywhere!"

--TONI, My Book Addiction

"I highly recommend this series to anyone who wants to read a great zombie book, and those parents who are looking for a book for their teen to read. Especially those young men who might not be that into reading. I think they’ll really like this series."

--LORI, Contagious Reads

"I thoroughly enjoyed Army of the Dead - a sequel that definitely did not disappoint."

-- JUSTINE WINANS, YA Lit Chick

Zombie Attack: Army of the Dead
by Devan Sagliani

Laughing Crow Media copyright © 2014

All Rights Reserved.

Cover art by Christian Bentulan

This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author and publisher.

Chapter One

“I missed you too, little buddy,” Tank said, his voice like rolling gravel. “I've thought a lot about you since we last met. I've been waiting a long time to catch up.”

I felt the sword slipping in my fingers as fear spiked through me. I'd seen him die. It wasn't possible. But here he was, standing in front of me, a walking nightmare come to life.

It can't be, I thought. He was turned into a zombie. I saw it. He couldn't have come back, unless...

“You two sound like you've got a whole lot of catching up to do,” John said, jumping in to move things along. “Tell you what, let's take this little reunion back up to base camp.”

John turned to walk back to the Jeep, but no one followed him. The rest of us stayed rooted in place. Tank stared me down with an icy, gloating smile, while I did my best to hold the katana up and block Felicity from him. The ring of ninjas kept their guns trained on our heads, never letting up for a second. John realized he was on his own, and wheeled around with a practiced laugh like a cheesy villain on a bad television cop drama.

“What seems to be the holdup?”

“He's not disarming, sir,” the head ninja said without hesitation, never taking his eyes off us.

“And I don't plan on disarming,” I reminded them, speaking in a loud, clear voice so I wouldn't have to continue repeating myself.

“If you don't want me to start killing people you care about, you might want to rethink your attitude,” John shouted, his usually honeyed speech slipping as his anger began to undermine his nice guy act. “Now put down the sword and get moving.”

“No,” I said, not taking my eyes off Tank, who burst into laughter.

“What's so funny?” John demanded.

“It's nothing,” Tank guffawed, doing his best to pull himself back together. “It's just he ain't changed a bit. Didn't I tell you? If anything, he's worse than the last time we crossed paths with him. This isn't going to work, John. Why don't you just let me kill him here and now with my bare hands. At least that way one of us will get something out of this, other than a huge hassle.”

Tank began inching in my direction and I brought my sword back to full attention, seeing the ninjas lean in gun first as I moved.

“It is going to work!” John roared. “Playtime is over, kiddies. You can drop the act now!”

I smiled slightly at seeing him come unhinged. I had forgotten how watching him lose control always gave me a sense of satisfaction. It reminded me of what Moto always said. I did seem to have a supernatural ability to get under people's skin when I wanted to. I had also forgotten how dangerous John could be once he was pushed into a situation where his leadership was tested. The mad look in his eyes reminded me, and I began to worry he might try to make an example out of Felicity. Still, I knew that once I was disarmed, any chance we had of ever leaving alive dropped to almost nonexistent.

“You've got us surrounded on all sides by armed guards,” I said at last.

“That's right, Xander,” John said, “so now that you've stated the obvious, let's get moving. I have a lot more to show you and it's gonna be dark soon.”

“So if I tried to do anything, you'd cut us down in a hail of bullets,” I replied, ignoring his instructions again.

“Yeah, that about covers it,” John grumbled in a condescending tone.

“We'll come with you,” I offered, “but I'm not putting my weapon down.” I turned and looked John right in the eye, then looked back to Tank's malicious, grinning, deformed face. “Not while he's around.”

“Come on, John,” Tank groaned. “You gonna let this kid talk like that to you in front of your men? He's the prisoner, and he's making demands.”

“If you give me your word you won't hurt us, I will come with you,” I cautiously continued. “Despite our differences, I feel like I can trust your word. But I'm not going to give up my only chance to defend myself against the man who tried to set me up and murder me. I'd rather die here and now, than come along and have Tank make up some story about how I was trying to escape so he had to twist my head off like a chicken.”

“And what am I supposed to do if you decide to get all brave and try to slice and dice your way out of our friendly little campground?”

“You've got more than enough firepower to turn us both into Swiss cheese if we try anything stupid,” I laughed. “You want me to come along, those are the terms.”

“Fine,” John said without hesitation. “This whole thing is boring me half to death anyway. I forgot what a pain in the butt you are. I've still got a big reveal yet to come, unless you've found a way to ruin that too. Now let's get going.”

“Are you serious?” Tank looked like he was ready to explode in a fit of rage and kill us all.

“Xander will sit up front with me,” John said, ignoring the outburst. “Tank and Haki, you bookend his lady friend in the backseat. I'm done with this conversation. Do I make myself clear?”

There was a dark look that crossed his face with the last sentence like none I'd ever seen before, as if John's true face, his true nature, was shining through. It was scarier than anything Tank had ever shown me. I gulped as acid rose up in my stomach.

“Yes sir,” Tank acquiesced, his face transforming from outrage to stone.

“Good,” John said, still not relaxing. “Let's move on to phase two then. And Haki, let's see how fast we can get word out to our riders to call off the search. We could use the reinforcements back at base camp, despite how much I hate having to share close quarters with biker scum. I wanna make sure the handoff goes as smooth as possible.”

“What handoff?”

“I thought you'd never ask,” John said, flashing me the most wicked, self-satisfied grin I'd ever seen in my life. “Hop on in and I will tell you all about it.”

I was expecting John to launch into his grand plan, but he wasn't ready to tell it just yet. We rode in silence toward the Great Hall where Bryan Crowe had once ruled over a religious cult of thousands, not even a year prior. The last time we'd been here the main road had buzzed with craftsmen working, women cooking, and children laughing and playing. Their functioning community thrived on interdependence, hard work, and the pride of self-reliance that comes from being labeled martyrs. They'd been religious zealots, brainwashed by a charismatic leader strung out on happy juice and group chanting, but they'd also been content with the lives they'd chosen, for the most part. Instead, now those happier sounds were replaced with a growing chorus of hungry moans from the starving masses of zombies tethered to the trees by unyielding metal chains. The closer we got, the more of them there were. I tried to see if I could recognize any of them from my last trip to the promised land of Ojai, but I couldn't make out any familiar faces.

I turned and looked behind me to see Felicity wedged between Tank and Haki. I gave her a grim smile and she returned it with a blank stare of disbelief. Things weren't looking all that great. I had to agree with her there.

This hasn't been the kind of day I'd expected, I thought. So far we've seen zombie clowns, resurrected neo-Nazis, and ninjas. I'm not looking forward to what comes next.

“You're going to love what I've got to show you,” John merrily told me, making me jerk my head in his direction like he'd just read my thoughts. He was back to his easygoing casual self, the early rage he'd shown us safely tucked away again.

“I can't wait,” I sarcastically remarked, trying to keep from freaking out. Inside, I kept wondering how far Felicity and I would make it into the woods before they started shooting if we were to jump from the moving vehicle.

“You say that now,” John laughed, “but you just wait. If you thought Tank was a surprise, your mind’s just gonna explode when you see what's next.”

“What's with the zombie army, John?” I asked, ignoring his jovial taunt. He looked like I'd sucker punched him for a minute.

“You noticed that, huh?” John winked at me. “I'll tell you what – that was no easy task getting them all rounded up and placed like that. You have no idea how difficult it was. Plus, we lost three guys in the process of turning them. You gotta really pay attention when you're making zombies. One small distraction and the zom's got your fingers for a tasty snack, just chomping away. Then all that's left to do is wait to turn. God, can you imagine? I guess you can. From what I hear through the grapevine you weren't much different than Tank at one point after we parted ways, except for maybe you didn't get bit all to hell and have your eye eaten out of your skull while you were still alive. He's still pretty pissed off about it too, in case you didn't notice.”

“How could you do that to all these innocent people?”

“Innocent?” He cried out indignantly. “You know they kept zombie pits up in the hills where they made human sacrifices during the full moon, right? Besides, most of them were already walking around like zombies anyway, spouting all this religious mumbo jumbo and praising their great leader, a first class con artist with a sweet tooth for underage girls. You ask me, did I do these people a favor putting them out of their misery?”

“How are they out of their misery? You chained them to the damn trees!”

“I'm not gonna let you ruin it for me,” he said, shaking his head. “Not this time!”

We pulled up the dirt drive toward the Great Hall. There were armed men in every direction I looked. They'd cleared a section near the outdoor dining tables and set up a base camp of tents, like a military installation or an open-air prison. John pulled up and parked right in front of the main entrance to the building.

“Let's try this one more time. Xander, you are my guest,” John began. “I expect you to behave like a guest. If you get hostile with me or my men, if you try to interfere or escape, then I'm going to lose my temper and start cutting pieces off your pretty friend back there and feeding 'em to the royal zoms. Are we clear?”

“Yes,” I said without hesitation.

“Good,” John said, looking slightly relieved. “Sorry to be so short with you, but it had to be done. Now, on to your next round of reintroductions.”

“Who are the royal zoms?” I asked, almost not wanting to know the answer. “Can you tell me that at least?”

“I'll do you one better,” John grinned. “I'll let you see them in the rotting flesh.”

I got out of the Jeep and waited for Felicity to make her way out from between her terrifying escorts. She scurried across the flattened seat and into my arms. I held her tight, and she squeezed so hard the air in my lungs rushed out.

“What are we going to do, Xander?” she whispered in my ear. “They'll kill us both.”

“I don't know,” I admitted. “For now we've got to go along with whatever this is. What other choice do we have?”

“You coming or what?”

John stood holding the front door open.

“Yeah,” I said, pulling away from Felicity and taking her hand. “We're right behind you.”

“Ladies first,” John sweet-talked as he showed the way. Tank smiled.

When we walked in I expected to find something terrible, like a guy with a chainsaw waiting to cut us in half – or a full on torture chamber. What I didn't expect was that so little would have changed. The walls were still painted with depictions from the Bible. There was a man chained onto the throne wearing a plastic crown, like something a child would wear at a birthday party. By his side, chained to the wall, was a small woman with glossy black, matted hair. As we approached, he lifted his head and let loose a hungry roar that filled the room with a rotten stench. His consort lunged out at us, her arms outstretched with her twisted, bloody fingers scratched down to the bone in places. She stopped just short of us, the chain around her waist going taut as she snapped her gray, splintered teeth mere inches from our shocked faces. From behind us, I heard John laughing like someone had just told the funniest joke of all time. My heart beat in my chest so hard it hurt. I could taste my sudden fear, like I'd been sucking on a handful of warm, freshly washed pennies.

“Careful now,” John cooed. “You don't wanna get on the wrong side of the Lord. You do recognize him, don't you?”

“It's Bryan Crowe,” Felicity said in a small voice, “and his Alpha wife, Rowena.”

“We didn't think it was right that he had so many wives,” John interrupted, walking forward and using the muzzle of his handgun to push her snapping head back. “She was the most devoted of all his child brides, the one most willing to sacrifice herself for him. We thought it would be a shame to separate them. After all, we're not animals.”

Tank roared with laughter as Felicity turned and shot John a dirty look. I just shook my head. Bryan Crowe had finally gotten what he deserved, so why didn't I feel better about it?

“My new friends helped us broker a peace deal with the Unity Gang. After that, overrunning the barricades down past Santa Barbara was a piece of cake. Let's just say those Golden Dawn dudes never saw it coming. It was a slaughter! And just like that we rolled into the Promised Land, hallelujah!”

“Praise the Lord!” Tank said, looking up and shaking his hands high in mock faith.

“Me and the King here didn't quite see eye to eye,” John said. “No offense, Tank.”

“None taken, your majesty.”

“So you turned him and all his people into zombies?” I asked.

“That is an abbreviated version of events,” John sighed. “But I suppose it's factually correct. I tried bribing him at first. I thought he'd see how hopeless fighting us would be and that the instinct to save his own skin would override his devotion to his cult.”

“What did you offer him?” Felicity asked.

“Protection,” John explained. “For him and all his wives. He'd be relocated of course, so he wouldn't have to stick around and watch us go to work, but he'd be given blocks of his own prime real estate up north of Lompoc. It was a pretty sweet deal by anyone's standards, especially considering the alternative.”

“You tried to bribe him into letting you kill all his followers? You honestly thought that would work?” I couldn't help myself. It just seemed so ludicrous.

“Pretty much,” John agreed. “I figured a guy as egotistical and power hungry as Bryan would be willing to sell out his own mother to save his own backside. Why wouldn't he sell out a few loyal followers in the process and get set up for the rest of his life by the most powerful warlord on the West Coast? I honestly thought he'd appreciate my direct approach.”

“I can't believe he turned you down,” Felicity stated in disgust.

“That makes two of us, honey,” John said. I flashed him a glare that he ignored.

“It just doesn't make sense,” she continued. “Bryan was a very dangerous man, delusional and drunk with power, sure, but he wasn't stupid and he wasn't loyal. If anything, his little sacrifices proved that. I wonder what made him decide to stand behind his followers?”

“Oh see, that's where you've got it wrong,” John guffawed. “Yeah. I can see your confusion on that one. Bryan started out negotiations by giving us most of the zoms held in his pits. After that, he offered to give us nearly a third of his devotees to stay here, so he could stay in power.”

“That sounds like the Bryan Crowe I met,” I chimed in.

“He couldn't see the big picture,” John went on. “I kept trying to tell him that everything was gonna change, that it was out with the old and in with the new, but he just didn't want to hear it. In the end, he declared a holy war on my men and me. Didn't cost us a single soldier. These religious nuts were used to looking scary, flashing their steel for the intimidation factor. Gunning down living people, well that's a different story.”

“You'd know all about it,” I mumbled.

“We put down a few of them and they fled like scared kids,” John bragged, looking more than a little pleased with himself. “It was sad really.”

“That's when you turned him and Rowena?”

“We had a little fun with him first, as you can see,” John winked at her. “I couldn't help myself. I'd tried to be generous and I even appealed to his greedy nature, but Bryan just kept throwing it in my face.

Just like I had, I thought as I turned to look at Bryan Crowe again. That could just as easily be Felicity and me. For all I know it's just a matter of time before it is.

I felt a cold chill race down my spine as I realized that at any moment the sweet tone could drain from John’s speech, and he could start torturing us to death.

“I'm surprised he didn't try to offer you some of his brides,” I said, trying to keep my teeth from chattering.

“He went the other way, started saying God would avenge him and that he was the second coming of Christ, whole lot of other rubbish too. We brought his wives in one at a time, and turned them while he watched. It wasn't until we got to this one that he seemed to come unglued. He said he'd never leave no matter what I offered him. I figured if he liked it here so much, the least I could do was honor his dying wish to never leave the Promised Land.”

The door opened, and one of the armed men walked in with another teen zombie and a small, nervous-looking child.

“Thanks, Haki,” John said. “How's the plan to get back our hygienically challenged, two-wheeled brethren coming along?”

“Already working on it, boss,” Haki said.

“Good. Hold up a minute. I might need you.”

The kid looked up at me with eyes full of tears. Immediately I recognized him. It was the face that had haunted all my worst nightmares for over a year now.

“Xander? Is that really you?”

“Sam,” I said, kneeling down to hug him as he darted into my open arms. “How is this possible?”

“Oh, I found him,” John said, taking the teen zombie by the chain and walking him over like a subdued pet pit bull. “Well, with a little help of course.”

“Is that Joel Parker?” I pointed to the teenage zom.

“What's left of him,” John clarified. “You're getting good at this. I guess after Tank, these two are pretty easy.”

“I don't understand.”

“No,” John understood. “How could you? Let me give you the short version so you'll be all caught up to speed.”

“He came up to Vandenberg and found me,” Sam sputtered.

“You wanna let me tell it, kid?”

“Sorry,” Sam said, looking timidly at his feet.

“How did you turn them all back?” I asked, growing impatient with the whole charade.

“Let's just say I've got connections on the inside,” John said. “After you left Tank for dead, I went back and found him. Took me five guys to get him back to New Lompoc. We kept him locked up in a tool shed for a while. I didn't know what I was going to do with him, to be honest. I just knew I couldn't leave him out with the rest of the monsters.”

“How noble of you,” Felicity sneered. He ignored her taunt.

“Some of my brothers from Special Forces had fought their way through the nightmare of war, only to get back Stateside and find that the whole world had gone to hell in a hand basket. These aren't the kind of guys used to being told what to do. Most of them have more kills under their belts than you've got hairs on your head. Let's just say they didn't plan on sitting back and letting a patchwork of weekend soldiers, and old guys too fat to fight their own battles, just boss them around. They're like me. They're not content to just reclaim the ruins of the world. They're more interested in what comes next.”

“Why don't I like the sound of that?” Felicity asked.

“So what does that have to do with how you brought these people back?” I demanded, still staring at the youngster, unable to believe it was really Sam.

“Let's just say I got friends in high places now,” John claimed. “These friends of mine have access to all sorts of things, including classified military documents on secret biological weapons-grade viruses and their antidotes. Turns out someone was just sitting on a whole load of anti-zombie juice, keeping it all to themselves. Now that's just selfish, if you ask me.”

“They have a good reason for not letting people know about it yet,” I insisted, but somewhere in the back of my mind my nagging doubts were beginning to return.

“You keep telling yourself that,” John chided. “You see, you think you're so different from me, but you're not...and neither is your brother. When push comes to shove, you manage to get what you need to survive no matter what the cost to other people around you. I can respect that. But then you walk around like you're better than everyone else, like your moral code somehow puts you above the rest of us. That's just hypocritical.”

“My brother is nothing like you!”

“You're right,” John laughed. “He used the antidote to save himself and his kid brother, then actively worked to hide the truth of its existence from the rest of us. Me, on the other hand, I'm more of what you'd call a man of the people. The first thing I did when I saw that the antidote worked on Tank was to track down that Parker kid. The other twin got his eggs scrambled, but this one here did okay.”

“But I saw them both go down in a hail of bullets,” I protested. “If you brought him back, he'd have bled to death.”

“His twin brother took most of the heavy fire. Joel here had a shattered femur and a bunch of bites. His right leg never did come all the way back, but other than that I had him looking like a shiny new penny for about a week. He told me a lot about you in that time, about how you'd all met up and what happened along the trek to New Lompoc, even how he blamed you for the death of his brother. He was even the one to find your little friend.”

“I went back to the house where you found me,” Sam explained. I stayed crouched down by his side and listened to him tell his sad tale. “I made it, Xander! I got all the way there and locked all the doors, but by then I was really sick. The last thing I remember was passing out on the sofa and having this horrible dream. I was so angry, but also terribly hungry. Joel was in my dream. But I didn't know it was Joel. I didn't recognize him until after I bit him.”

“Oh God,” Felicity moaned, putting her hand on my shoulder. “He turned him back again.”

“I didn't mean to hurt him,” Sam cried, looking guilty. “I didn't know what was happening. I…”

“He got a hold of him good, too,” John laughed. “Blood was spurting everywhere. It was disgusting. I blame the bum leg for him getting changed back to a flesh eater. Since then, Joel's been more like a mascot than anything.”

“It's okay,” I cooed at Sam. “It's not your fault.”

“I tried to apologize when I saw him later in the blue world,” Sam sputtered, his little eyes spilling tears out like a leaky faucet. “But by then, I was just a floating cloud and he was an angry wasp made out of bleeding lemons. He was too heavy to follow me up toward the light.”

“I don't recall seeing a light in my trip,” I said.

“It was so beautiful,” Sam insisted. “All I wanted was to live inside of it where there was no more pain or suffering.”

“Yeah,” John said, jumping in. “Truth is, we almost lost him. I think maybe giving him the whole dose was a little too much for a guy his size, but he made it through like a champ.”

“John said he was going to bring us all back together again,” Sam said, wiping his tears away. “He said he was part of a group of people who were going to fix the world and end the infection. Isn't that wonderful?”

“I'm glad we get to be together again, buddy,” I began, “but I'm not sure John and I want the same thing.”

“Why not? Don't you want things to be okay again?”

“It's a little more complicated than that, Sam,” I sympathized, shaking my head. John had filled the kid’s head full of fantasies that justified him hurting innocent people. Had Sam not seen John's handiwork nailed to the trees around town?

“Actually,” John interrupted, “it doesn't have to be complicated. Trust me, I know how hard it can be to work with your sworn enemies. I never thought I'd see a truce between us and Unity Gang, but in the end it's worked out better than I ever could have imagined.”

“You're both murderers and thieves,” I spat. “You both enjoy killing and hurting other people. What's to argue about?”

“Look,” John said, growing impatient again. “There is an easy way to do this, and a hard way. I'd like to give the easy way a try first, despite your usual ungrateful attitude.”

“I will never work with you,” I said flatly.

“Haki, take young Sam back to his room,” John ordered.

“Yes sir,” Haki said, moving forward swiftly and pulling Sam back by his waist.

“Wait,” I cried out. “Where are you taking him?”

“Come to think of it, take Xander’s pretty friend along with the little mister to keep him company,” John instructed. I drew my sword.

“Not a chance,” I said, stepping between them.

“Now Xander,” John laughed, “I thought we talked about this.”

“She's not leaving my side,” I growled.

“No one will lay a finger on her while we're gone,” John promised. “I give you my word on that. You said you trusted my word, right? Isn't that how you got to keep your shiny toy there?”

“Xander,” Felicity said, gently touching my arm. “It's okay. I'll be okay.”

“I'm not leaving you,” I said, turning and staring into her pleading eyes.

“What other choice do we have right now?” Felicity asked.

I put my sword away. Tank chuckled. John gave him a smug look of satisfaction.

“Well now that we've got that settled,” John sang out, back to his usual cheery self. “Let's take a walk. I'll fill you in on the way.”

He threw his arm around me and began guiding me out the door. I looked over my shoulder to see Haki leading Sam and Felicity off to the same building I'd been locked in during my last stay. Tank didn't follow us back outside, which made me way more nervous for some reason, not knowing where he was. No matter what John promised me, I was certain Tank would stop at nothing to get his revenge against me. One way or another things weren't going to end well between us, and I knew it.

Chapter Two

“I find taking a daily walk helps me clear my head,” John said, as we began to march up to where the zombie pits were the last time I was a guest of Bryan Crowe. “I love all this open country out here. Back in New Lompoc, if I wanted to go for a walk I'd have to loop around a bunch of tract homes that all looked the same, plus I'd need an armed escort. Out here all you have to do is let your feet do the walking.”

“So you brought me out here to experience the joys of nature with you?” I asked sarcastically.

“Actually I've got big plans,” John said. “The wheels are already turning, in case you didn't notice. That's where you come in.”

“How's that again? Looks like you've got everything you need here in Ojai to start plenty of trouble,” I said, trying not to picture what terrible fate John had in store for me.

Maybe he's going to hang me publicly as a warning to others not to rebel, I thought darkly. Or draw and quarter me. Or worse yet, turn me.

“You're right,” John beamed. “But this is just a small part of a much bigger, more beautiful picture. By the way, your little girlfriend looks awfully familiar. Mind telling me why my men seem to recognize her when she goes past?”

“She was a child movie star,” I shrugged, not really wanting to give him much, but realizing it was just a matter of time before his men started lining up to gawk at her and ask for autographs.

“What's her name again?”

“Felicity Jane,” I mumbled, my mouth going dry at his sudden interest in her.

“Felicity Jane,” he repeated, scratching his chin. “And how do you know her again?”

“She's my wife,” my voice now barely above a whisper. The look in his eyes was terrifying. I no longer feared for what he might do to me. All I could think about was protecting her, even if it was already too late.

“That will do the trick,” John said with a big, evil smile.

“Look man, whatever you're going to do to me, just leave her out of it,” I said, blood rushing to my face as I fought to control myself once again. “If you want to make an example out of me I get it, but Felicity didn't do anything wrong.”

“Oh Xander,” John laughed, shaking his head. “You haven't changed a bit. You know that? Still just as eager as ever to be the big martyr, still first in line to sacrifice himself for some lost cause, and worst of all, still so fully self-absorbed that you think everything is about you.”

“What's that supposed to mean? How is this not about me when you sent people to hunt me down and bring me here?”

“Sure I was hunting you,” John kept on talking. “But not for something as petty as revenge. You think I went through all this trouble just so I could give you to Tank and let him rip your arms off? Is that it?”

“So I'm not here as your present to Tank, wrapped up with a big bow on my head,” I taunted him. “I'm not here to show your men what happens to people who cross you? Is that what you're saying?”

“Yeah, slick,” John said, looking less amused by the second. “That's what I'm saying. And to be clear, Tank owes me a favor for bringing him back from the land of the brain-dead. I don't owe him a damn thing!”

“So why am I here?”

“Ibogaine,” John concluded, “in a nutshell.”

“Why do I know that word, and what does it have to do with me?”

“Everything and nothing,” John said, walking ahead slowly and making me follow him. “Ibogaine is just one of the ingredients to make the antidote. It's a powerful hallucinogenic given to junkies to help them kick, as part of experimental addiction therapy. Before that, it was used by Shamans and medicine men.”

“It was what caused me to have those wild dreams while I was in a coma recovering from my bite,” I recalled, realizing at last what John was talking about. “It's what made me see melting clocks in the desert and dead people from my childhood.”

“I hear it's better than anything synthetic that’s been made up since,” John added. “That's why they use it on the addicts I suppose. It's a trip so hard and heavy you never wanna trip again, a last ride to Psychedelic Town that permanently rewires your consciousness.”

“What does Ibogaine have to do with me again?” I wasn't trying to upset him. I was just genuinely confused at that point.

“Nothing per se,” John said. “Except that your brother, Moto, stole the last traces of it from the base and hid it where we can't find it.”

“That's not possible,” I claimed in disbelief. “He told me there isn't a plant anywhere closer than Tijuana, and that no one can get through the hordes down in Mexico to get it.”

“Well then, he either lied or didn't trust you,” John sourly replied. “There was a grow house on the base with several plants coming along, that is until Moto and his accomplice broke in one night and stole them.”

“If that's true, then he's been charged as a criminal,” I interjected.

“Not exactly,” replied John. “Moto is smart. I'll give him that. He had his partner pull off the robbery, and then claimed he didn't have any knowledge of it. They found him sitting up in uniform, playing cards, waiting for someone to come question him. He also made it clear that he's not sorry the Ibogaine is missing and that he won't help the military locate new sources.”

“Then he must have a good reason,” I threw out defensively. I didn't like people talking about my brother like he was a criminal.

“That's what I think as well,” John said, “but the trouble is that he’s misguided. He's only looking at the here and now. My plans go well into the next decade and beyond.”

“Why does it matter? I mean from what I can see so far it looks like you're building a zombie army, not trying to heal the sick.”

“I need them, Xander,” John admitted. “It's the only way we can turn things back around and restore some version of society. I know it's hard to understand.”

“Then why make the antidote at all?”

“For influence. Think about it. Money is obsolete now. I could pay you a million dollars and you'd trade it for a week's worth of water at the drop of a hat, if push came to shove. Resources, on the other hand, are very valuable, including land and water rights. Ever since Z Day, small kingdoms have been growing across what used to the United States. Mexico already had them in the form of cartels. The rulers of these wild lands all have one thing in common, a whole lot of space and too many zombies. They'd gladly hand over some of it for a way out of this mess.”

“I thought that was what the zombie army was about…,” I paused, “…to march in and take it from them by force.”

“That's shortsighted,” John countered. “Sure, you wanna let them know that you're a serious force to be reckoned with. That's why you march them right up to the edge of the warlord’s territory, to get his attention. Once he's all ears, you make him an offer he can't refuse: the gift of life, of resurrection for him and his loved ones, of a do-over. Everybody's lost someone along the way since Z Day. What if you could bring them back?”

“That's a hell of a sales pitch,” I admitted. “So you trade their land for a few doses of antidote?”

“No,” John said. “That's the best part. We give them a choice. They can either cede the land to us, forfeiting any right to it forever, or they can keep it in their kingdom by agreeing to join our new union and abide by its rules and laws. Nothing changes except, of course, that we can now call on any of their residents at any time for any reason to be conscripted into our service. Usually that kind of thing only happens in times of war, or if there is a betrayal.”

“What if they just give you the land?”

“It hasn't happened so far,” John said. “But hypothetically, they'd get all their antidote at once, as opposed to us holding it in safekeeping for them, which is our usual agreement. Then again, hypothetically, it would also mean that we'd have to wipe that warlord off the face of the map to keep the peace. Truth is, if they knew there was a cure it would only be a matter of time before they attacked us and tried to take it. That's just human nature.”

Not for everyone, I thought. Some of us are just happy to be alive without having to mess with other people.

“So the people you've made these deals with haven't been making you give them the antidote right away,” I concluded, putting the pieces together at last.

“That's correct,” he agreed, heading up a dirt incline.

“But they'd have certainly wanted a dose or two to try out,” I continued. “That means you must be running low, which is why you are so desperate to make more. If your warlords discover that you don't actually have the ability to fill their requests when they need them, they're going to lose interest in working with you real fast.”

“Took you a bit, but you got there,” John muttered as he reached the top of the hill and looked down into the valley below. The sun was just starting to set in the west, filling the sky with golden light and pink fluffy clouds. “I love the view up here. It really is amazing. It's like there are never the same two sunsets in a row. You'll see. You're going to stay with us a while. That way your brother will have time to fetch us what he stole, and also let us make some new batches for our allies without causing any problems. Who knows? Maybe in that time you'll start to get a sense of perspective, of history, of purpose. This is the new Manifest Destiny. This is the way forward for the entire human race.”

I was just about to open my mouth to fire off more snarky remarks, when John turned and stared into my eyes with deep conviction.

“I meant what I said the last time we met,” he began. “You're a natural leader. You've got a talent that just needs to be developed. It's your heart that gets you into trouble.”

“It's also what makes me human,” I replied.

“Let's just hope that over time you'll decide you want to be on the winning side,” John said. “Otherwise, eventually, we won't need you anymore and, well, I'm sure you can guess how well that will end for you.”

“And if I run?”

“Then Sam and Felicity will pay dearly for your cowardice,” John said, looking pensive. “You wouldn't want their blood on your hands would you? And besides, let's not forget that I found you once. I will find you again, only this time I won't be so nice.”

“If you touch a single hair on Felicity's head,” I began to huff, but John laughed and clapped me on the shoulder.

“I know, I know,” he sang back, “you'll kill me. I get it. Let's head on back. I'm starting to get hungry and it smells like the squirrels are already on the grill.”

He turned with an easy smile and walked back down the way we'd come, whistling a carefree tune as he went. I raced to keep up with him, but neither of us spoke. John acted like nothing had happened, like he hadn't just threatened my life and the lives of the people closest to me. It was just another routine day to him, as far as I could tell.

I hate him, I thought, more than I hate Tank. How did I end up back here again? The first chance I get, I am making a break for it and taking everyone with me. Besides, it's not like I can really believe a word he says. For all I know this was just another trick to get me away from Felicity.

My stomach turned at the thought, filling me with hot fear and anxiety until I felt like a teakettle waiting to boil over. I ran ahead of John, and he called out after me.

“Leave some for me.”

I didn't stop or look back. I couldn't. All I could think of was Felicity.

How could I be so stupid? How could I let them take her away? I should never have agreed. They've probably already made her a zombie. Or worse.

I remembered how unnerved Felicity had been the last time we'd been here, how being a girl made things even scarier at times.

I did my best to force the terrible images that came flooding in out of my mind. My feet stung as I picked up speed and ran as fast as I could for the room where they were keeping Sam and Felicity. Heads turned and men with guns uneasily began pointing them in my direction as I tore down the hill toward the building. John called out behind me again.

“It's okay,” John assured his men, who seemed to relax at the news. “He's just working off some pent-up steam. Let him go.”

I turned the corner and bolted toward the open front door. There were two armed guards outside, but they let me pass without a word. I saw Sam sitting on the floor in front of an old board game. He looked sad as his eyes came up to meet mine.

“Where is she?” I managed to get out, my lungs burning from my quick sprint.

“Who?” Sam asked, looking genuinely confused.

“Felicity Jane,” I gasped. “Where did they take her?”

I heard the toilet flush and the sound of running water. Sam's eyes turned toward the bathroom. The door came open and Felicity walked out looking no worse for wear than when I'd left her over an hour ago.

“You better not have been cheating while I was using the powder room,” Felicity said cheerfully before seeing me. Her face went into a state of shock at my overly excited appearance, and she froze in place. I darted over and took her in my arms.

“Are you okay?”

“Xander,” Felicity breathed, her voice quivering a little. “Is everything all right? You're scaring me.”

“Sorry,” I said, pulling back. “I just got worried, that's all.”

“We've been entertaining ourselves while you were gone,” Felicity explained. “Sam here was telling me the story of how you met.”

“How far did you get?” I asked, trying to regain my composure.

“I was just telling her about how you gave me the Snickers bar,” Sam said, “before you sent me back to Vandenberg. I ate it right away too. I didn't know how long it would be until I turned, and I wanted to enjoy it.”

“That's okay, buddy,” I reassured him. “That's what it was for in the first place. I'm glad to hear you got something out of it.”

“What did John tell you?” Felicity asked. “Did you find out what's going on? Or what they plan on doing with us now?”

“I did,” I answered back. “They're going to keep us around, for a while at least. It's all part of a plan to blackmail Moto into cooperating. We've just got to bide our time. I'll tell you more after dinner.”

“Dinner?”

“That's right,” John encouraged, walking into the room with a magnanimous smile. “You're my guests so you get to sit next to me. A word of caution, however. My men are fiercely loyal. They're dedicated to my vision of a new world, a better world. As such, many of them won't take kindly to your particular brand of sarcasm and backtalk.”

“So basically you're telling us to just sit there and play nice?” Felicity asked, cocking her head and putting her hands on her hips.

“That's right,” John cheered, “it's for your own good. Now let's get moving before the roast critter gets cold.”

He turned again and walked outside. Felicity gave me a look of disbelief and I shook my head in reply. We simply didn't have a choice. Either we played along with John and were nice or we risked earning the wrath of his men, from Tank down to the common rank and file. Either way, we were in this for the long haul.

“It's not so bad,” Sam said, trying to break the tension in the room. “They're nice guys for the most part.”

Yeah, I thought. They're real nice until John orders them to hack you to pieces and feed your bloody limbs to their zombie army. Bunch of real good Samaritans, otherwise.

“Lead the way,” I said, nodding and smiling at him. Sam walked out ahead of us. Felicity took my hand and squeezed it hard.

“I'm working on it,” I whispered in her ear.

“I know you are,” she whispered back.

We walked out of the door together, holding hands.

A large group of warriors no longer wearing masks sat at the tables eating chunks of bread with strips of cooked rodent meat. There were no longer any bioluminescent lamps hanging about, they used fiery torches instead. John sat where Bryan Crowe had sat, and we joined him with Sam like we had with Benji. I got an eerie sense of déjà vu as I listened to him speak.

“Where's Tank?” I asked.

“He's working out some issues of his own,” John disclosed. “Yet again, he isn't thrilled with my decision on how to handle you. From the minute you two met something about you just seemed to get under his skin.”

“How do you plan on keeping him from doing what he did last time and trying to set me up to kill me?” I asked.

“Don't worry. He won't touch you until I give him permission.”

“How can you be so sure?” Felicity asked.

“I just know he won't,” John shook his head. “He don't like it. That's for sure. But he understands what's at stake. You don't have to like something to accept it. That's usually the way things are anyway. You'd think you'd know better than anyone how that works, being a woman and all.”

I didn't like the tone of his voice and wasn't sure what he was getting at. I felt the urge to lash out verbally at him, but made a sweeping glance around the table at the rogues’ gallery of villains assembled nearby and thought better of it. It burned to hold back my vitriol, but I did my best not to show it.

“Speaking of lady friends,” Felicity said, slamming her bread crust down on the table in frustration. “When can we expect yours to make an appearance?”

“That's a good question. She was supposed to be wrapping up a piece of business, but she should be along before long. I know she'll be anxious to see you again, Xander.”

“Why's that?” Felicity probed.

“She took a liking to him back in Hellfire,” John chuckled. “Says she's looking forward to seeing you stripped and bound again. I told her not to get her hopes up. A lesser man might be jealous to hear his woman talk that way about one of his sworn enemies, but after meeting the delightful Miss Felicity Jane here, I'm suddenly inclined to keep an open mind about a lot of things.”

John took Felicity by the hand and smiled like a mischievous child. The men around the table all broke into laughter. I could feel the blood pounding in my face as I bit my tongue to keep from saying something that would get us all killed. Felicity, on the other hand, had heard enough for one night. She pulled her hand free of his to a chorus of boos, then turned and indignantly stormed off back to the room.

“Go on then,” John dismissed her with a wave of his free hand. “You can't let her just storm off like that and not chase after her. It's what she wants. It's what they all want, more attention.”

The men laughed even harder as I got up and followed Felicity, leaving Sam behind. I caught her by the door and turned her to me. Her face was red and streaked with angry tears.

“Felicity, wait. I'm sorry.”

“It's not your fault,” she cried. “It's Sonya's. I can't believe she did this to us.”

“It's going to be all right,” I promised her, walking her back into the room and kissing her on the top of her head.

“How is it going to be okay?”

“I'm not sure yet,” I admitted. “I just know that it is. You'll see. We'll find a way out of this. We always do.”

“I'm scared, Xander,” she said, turning and holding me. “I'm tired and angry and hungry, but more than all of that I am scared of what they're going to do to us.”

“They're not going to hurt us,” I promised her. “Not yet anyway. They can't if they want Moto to go along with their big plans.”

“What does that mean?”

I sat and told her everything John had told me on our walk. It felt good to get it out, to hear it again from a different perspective, but it brought up more questions than it answered. We reclined on the bed and I held her in my arms, brushing her long hair through my fingers while she listened to my heartbeat. Before long I felt the familiar pull of sleep tugging at me. It had been a horrendous day and I was happy to be escaping into the vast emptiness of my dreams. The last thing I heard before going all the way under was the sound of her softly snoring.

Chapter Three

I was chained to one of the wooden poles of the circus tent, and Felicity was chained to the other. Both of us had ropes of metal rings fastened around our waists. We were on the main stage of the circus-turned-slaughterhouse, slipping in the bloody remains of several former human victims. There was a large spotlight shining down on us from overhead, blinding us with its overwhelming brightness. From out of the moaning darkness came zombie clowns in groups of two and three, edging their way forward onto the platform with hunger spawning in their dead, merciless eyes.

I thrashed about trying to free myself, but to no avail. Rows of ghoulish hell-clowns ringed the stage, reaching out toward us with snarling, bloody mouths.

At least they can't reach us on their own, I thought.

Looking over I saw that they were climbing the steps like normal people, helping each other out!

My God, I thought. If they've learned to communicate for real, then we're all doomed. How can we stop them if they move like us? Think like us?

I glanced out at the audience in the packed stands. They all wore the black leather vests I'd come to associate with biker gangs, but instead of faces they had gleaming human skulls. They laughed and threw money and drank blood from the severed heads of children as they waited for the zombies to tear us to shreds. Sheer horror flooded me as I realized that they were betting on how we would die. I looked up to see several undead clown henchmen holding Felicity's arms and legs, while an evil clown doctor carefully dissected her, handing out her organs like treats to the waiting swarm at ground level.

I turned and watched the skeleton men in the stands exchange bills, some laughing and others shaking their fists in pure anger. They handed each other some small cages with dirty, naked children in them, and passed them back and forth, using the small kids for currency the way a farmer might trade a chicken for groceries.

A loud roar near me pulled my attention back. Felicity was now gone, her torso pulled open and emptied down to bare bones and skin. Next to me, the zombie clown doctor gave a cheerful honk of his horn, holding up a scalpel in the other. I fought with all my might, but cold, wet hands pinned down my arms and legs. I screamed out, but the nightmare doctor only laughed as he brought his arm down and cut into my skin.

A loud whistling object went buzzing past my ear, and the doctor’s face froze in fear. A shiny dart stuck out of his face, showing cheerful red and white plastic wings. The doctor’s face began to melt into soft butter, caving in on itself. Soon he was nothing more than an oily puddle on the ground in front of me. I heard several more darts go flying past me. Soon I was alone, unchained, standing in the middle of the platform in a soft puddle of silky liquid. All around me the skeletons roared their disapproval as I trudged forward toward Felicity's corpse. I reached her and lifted her head like I was pulling a dead petal from a flower.

“Xander,” she said urgently.

“Felicity,” I cried out. “Stay with me, baby. Don't go.”

“Xander,” she said again, more urgently this time. She stared deep into my eyes and I stared back, waiting for her to pass some important final message to me and praying I would know what it meant.

“Wake up.”

“Wake up?” I looked up to see the skeleton men were now closing in on the stage. They were advancing from all sides, angry and screaming with fire blazing within their hollow eye sockets. “What does that mean?”

“Wake up!”

I felt a sharp nudge in the ribs and came to with a start. Felicity was sitting up, dead still, with her head turned toward the front door.

“Someone is out there,” Felicity whispered.

“Are you sure?” I was still trying to shake the dream off of me.

“Positive,” she said. “I could swear I just heard them take out our guards. One minute there was a sort of whizzing sound and the next there were two crashing noises followed by heavy breathing, like snoring but quieter.”

Memories of the whizzing noises I'd heard in my dream floated back to me.

Turns out they really were darts after all, I thought.

“Who would be coming for us?” I wondered out loud. “No one knows we're even here.”

“Except Tank,” Felicity worried. “You heard what John said at dinner. He's not taking any of this well. What if he decided to come in the middle of the night, when no one was looking, and kill us as we try to escape?”

“Sounds like him, if you ask me,” I whispered.

“What are we going to do?” Felicity asked, sounding really scared for the first time.

“Just stay here,” I spoke low, trying to sound confident and in control, when really I was on the verge of freaking out as well. Tank was a nightmare by any standards, but this new version of him, the one John had worked so hard to bring back, well, that Tank was somehow even worse.

I slid out of bed and unsheathed my sword, just as the front door creaked open. A dark shadow flitted through the doorway and into the corner. It moved so fast I barely had time to register that it had happened. I couldn't tell how big it was either.

Great, I thought. He's in total stealth mode. At least if he came at me head-on I'd have a fair chance.

I brought the blade up ready for attack, catching a sliver of moonlight from the high windows. The man stepped out of the shadows and slowly took his hood off. It was Moto.

“What are you doing here?” I gasped, not knowing what to say.

“What does it look like, genius? I'm rescuing you,” Moto said, sounding annoyed at my less than enthusiastic greeting. “Now grab Felicity and let's go.”

“We can't leave,” I whispered back in reply. “John already told me that he'd kill Sam…my friend…if I tried to run. He's just a kid, man.”

“We've already grabbed Sam,” Moto assured me. “You're the last item on the list. Now hurry.”

I turned back to see that Felicity was out of bed, and already slipping her shoes back on. I returned my sword to its sheath and quickly pulled my sneakers on, grabbing my ring master coat for warmth.

“Stay right behind me and don't stop,” Moto cautioned us before turning and slinking out the front door.

We crept out the front door and past the two guards, now soundly snoring in front of the building. Moto darted between shadows cast by trees, encouraging us to do the same. We were less than a hundred feet down the hill, heading for the main road, when I first noticed the sound of low moaning all around me. After a moment, I realized it was the wind bringing the chorus of the dead up through camp, the sounds of the growing zombie army below were like a crashing wave of human suffering.

We came to a clearing and Moto just raced through it as fast as he could, trying to balance being in plain sight by not wasting any extra time there. When he was safely tucked back into the spidery shadows of the opposite tree line he beckoned for us, silently commanding that we follow his example once more. Felicity went first and I held my breath, listening for sounds of John's stealth warriors heading in our direction. All I heard was the ragged beating of my own heart.

We've got to make it, I thought. There's no turning back now. Otherwise, who knows what John will do to us all. No, it's full out fight or die time.

Felicity was gesturing to me from the cusp of the gauzy shade cast by the large oak trees. I couldn't see Moto, but I assumed he'd gone on. Her face looked different, concerned in a strange way. I took off as fast as I could, nearly tripping as I raced across the open plain.

Keep your knees up, I told myself. Dig in and give it all you've got.

My heart beat fiercely in my chest. I could hear it thumping in my ears, along with my shallow gasping breaths, as I reached Felicity. She took me in her arms and, looking past her, I saw what had stirred her fear. Tank stood ahead of us, facing off with Moto. Before him, Apache knelt with his hands tied together with string. His right eye was bruised and swelling, but his face revealed no expression of defeat or even self-pity. He just looked like he was calmly biding his time until the situation was rectified, at total peace with it all. Little Sam however, looked like he was on the verge of coming completely unglued. Tank held the small kid by the throat several feet off the ground. Sam's eyes bulged, and his face turned a ripe shade of red as he struggled to free himself from the iron grip of his captor.

“Put him down and I will let you live,” Moto warned him. Tank threw back his head and cackled like a crow.

“You got it all wrong, Big Bro,” Tank sneered. “You take one more step in my direction, and I will pop his head like a grape.”

“I'll cut you in two,” Moto countered, waving his katana menacingly at Tank. “You'll be dead before you hit the earth. This is your last chance, pal. Put him down and walk away.”

“Nice bluff,” Tank chuckled. “We both know that's all it is. You're not going to sacrifice some little snot-nosed kid, and your Indian friend here, on the off chance you might take me out. It's not your style. It doesn't let you look like the big shot hero who saved the day, not when the kid dies no matter what.”

Sam squirmed harder than ever at the news of his impending death, managing to claw just enough air in to bellow out a cry for help.

“Please, Xander,” he brayed in a high-pitched gasp. “Save me!”

Felicity held on tight, but I pulled away from her and started for Tank as I drew my sword.

“Hold up, bro,” Moto cautioned as I reached his side.

“I've got some unfinished business with you,” Tank roared.

“Take it easy, Tank,” I said, my mind racing for an answer.

“Don't tell me to take it easy,” he roared. “I tried to tell John about you. Oh how I've tried. Again and again. He just don't ever want to listen. Thinks he sees a little of himself in you. Thinks you have all this potential, that if he can only get you to see things his way you'll be a great ally to our cause.”

“That's not gonna happen,” I volunteered. “Not ever.”

“I know that,” Tank hissed, annoyed by my interruption. “That's exactly what I explained to him. I tried to tell him that you're a liar, that you'd trick him again, that the only way to deal with you was to torture you for information, then kill you when you begged us for mercy, but he just doesn't get it.”

“Put Sam down, Tank,” I said calmly. “This is between you and me.”

“John likes to talk about the big picture all the time now that he's got his new friends,” Tank said scornfully. “It used to be about chasing scum off our streets, creating a pure neighborhood of white brothers and sisters, and defending our race at all costs.”

“Sounds like a Nazi paradise,” I mocked him. “And you wonder why he's interested in making new friends. Listen to yourself. Racism is so ignorant, so small-minded.”

“The old John would have let me skin you like a stray cat, and hang your carcass up as a warning to the others,” Tank reminisced, a far away look in his glossy black eye. “Now he wants to negotiate and barter and make backroom deals. When I talk about getting justice, he tells me I need to think outside the box. Even after what you did to me, John still can't understand why I need to tear your limbs off and see you suffer.”

“I think you should have stayed dead,” Moto advised.

“You know the problem with keeping your eyes on the future all the time,” Tank said, still smiling his evil, icy grin. “it means you often miss what's right in front of your face. I told John there was no way you accidentally wandered into our hands today, that you were sent here on a mission to see our zombie army in person and report back your findings. He said I was being paranoid, that I wasn't making sense, but here we are on the first night of your capture and you've already got a full rescue team in place.”

Slowly I began to inch forward as Tank spoke, doing my best not to make any noise. Sam's face was now turning purple. He was struggling less as Tank squeezed harder with each sentence, letting his anger build like an old boiler overheating. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Moto was keeping pace with me, shortening the distance between Tank and us, and preparing for an attack.

“I warned John you'd try to escape and to chain you up, but he insisted you wouldn't be a problem. Talk about having the wool pulled over your eyes. All I had to do was sit back and wait by Sam's sleeping quarters. Just like clockwork, your friends here began slinking through the shadows and taking out our posted sentry. They'd have taken a swipe at me too, if I hadn't kept out of sight. So I waited and followed them down here, knowing they'd meet up with you eventually, and here you are.”

“Here I am, Tank,” I said, tightening my grip on my sword. Sam was limp and all but passed out now in Tank's big paw. He didn't have much longer. We had to act soon. I tried to think of what Moto might be planning, how we could strike together and prevent Tank from killing Sam or Apache, but nothing seemed to come to mind.

Why is Apache still smiling? I wondered. It's like he's watching this whole thing unfold, as if it's a movie of the week.

“So how's this for the big picture? I'm going to kill you and your brother tonight,” Tank said.

“Smart move, tough guy,” I shot back. “How do you plan on getting your hands on the Ibogaine after that?”

“John will figure something out. He always does. Sure he'll be mad at first, but then I'll explain how it all went down and that I didn't really have a choice; how it was just me versus your three-man rescue team and I had to fight for my life.”

A loud whizzing sound filled the air. A shiny black dart stuck in the side of Tank's neck with a sickening thump. Almost immediately afterward two more followed, hitting him smack in the chest near his heart. In his surprise, Tank opened his fist and let Sam fall to the ground. Sam crumpled into a pile at the giant man's feet, and remained still and unmoving. Tank looked confused and angry as he ripped the darts out of his chest and threw them on the ground, completely neglecting the one still sticking out of his neck, looking like a bolt on the neck of Frankenstein's monster.

“You son of a...,” was all Tank managed to slur as he stepped forward, his front leg buckling and causing him to topple hard to the ground with a thud.

“Four-man rescue team,” a man corrected, stepping out from behind a cluster of trees. He was dressed like one of John's ninjas, with his mask still on as he approached us. I held my sword up, but Moto lowered his as the man got closer. Apache smiled wider than ever, as if he'd been waiting for this ending all along. The man took off his mask to reveal a familiar face.

“Thanks, Haki,” Moto cheered, taking him by the shoulder and shaking him. “I didn't know if you got my message.”

“I wasn't expecting you to get here so fast,” Haki shrugged. “But it's a good thing you did. Looks like the bikers will be here as early as daybreak. I couldn't stall them any longer. Seems they're all revved up for vengeance and wanna see the kid burn.”

“He's not winning any popularity contests lately,” Moto laughed. “That's for sure. We'll be long gone by then. You just make sure you cover your tracks and don't blow your identity. If John finds out you're working for us there is no telling what he'll do to you.”

“I knew the risks when I volunteered,” Haki said. “I've never let you down, and I won't start now.”

“What about him?” I asked at last, pointing to Tank.

“Leave him,” Moto ordered. “He's out cold anyway. He won't be up for well over six hours, and even then he'll be disoriented. He took a heavy dose.”

“We can't just leave him,” Felicity begged, looking around wildly. “He's going to keep trying to track us down and kill us. Besides, won't he know you're a double agent?”

“He never saw my face,” Haki explained. “I made sure he was already down for the count before revealing myself.”

“We can't murder him in cold blood, Felicity,” Moto said softly. “It just isn't right. I agree that he's a problem for us, but knocking him out and then dispatching him is just wrong.”

“It's better than he deserves,” Felicity yelled fiercely, surprising me with her sudden intensity. “If the roles were reversed here, he'd tie us up and torture us to death. He said so himself. I'm talking about taking out a dangerous enemy with a clean kill, and you're all acting like I'm the crazy one for thinking it.”

“You're not crazy,” Moto assured her. “Not at all. But if we kill Tank like this then we're no better than he is, and what we're striving to protect and save is no better than what John is trying to build. Once we start making excuses for killing, where will it end? I'm sorry, sis, this isn't the way.”

I walked over and hugged her. She was tense at first, but then melted into me, letting me hold her close and comfort her as hot tears splashed down my neck. Apache tended to Sam who was now stirring back to life, coughing and holding his throat.

“We better get moving,” Moto said as he put his sword away. “We've got some ground to cover and we want to make sure they can't track us.”

“Stay safe my friend,” Haki implored.

“You too,” Moto replied. Without another word, Haki slipped off into the trees and vanished. Moto turned and walked ahead of us. Apache took Sam's hand and they followed. Felicity let go of me at last, and stepped back. She walked over and kicked Tank hard in the back. He didn't even stir.

“Come on, sweetie,” I urged her. “Let's leave before they figure out we're gone and send more people.”

Felicity came back and took my hand. We hurried to catch up with Moto and the others, keeping a grueling pace after that as we cut across the wild forest. Eventually, we came to another clearing and found two large horses tied up waiting for us.

“We ride from here,” Moto said. “We should be out of harms way before the sun comes up.”

I made Felicity ride with Moto, while Sam and I rode with Apache. The cold air burned in my lungs as we swiftly traveled across a shadow-blurred landscape, weaving in and out of riverbeds and up through unseen trails, at times seeming to cut back entirely on our own path. As the first rays of sunlight came up, we rode over a ridge and descended into a manicured patch of lemon trees before cutting up a nearby hill and descending into untamed forest anew. Around ten minutes into the forest, we were lost in a thicket so dark it obscured the rising sun. We came to a clearing walled in by a steep mountain with a jagged face. Moto slowed as he rode into the brilliant sunshine, and then got off his horse. He was helping Felicity dismount as Apache brought us out into the warm daylight in a small stretch of wild grass and berries. He stayed on the horse as I climbed down, helping Sam back onto solid ground. There was nothing in sight that looked remotely manmade in any direction, and I couldn't help but wonder what we were doing there.

“Why are we stopping?” I asked.

“We're here,” Apache informed me, smiling again and patting his horse.

“I don't understand,” Felicity said. “Are we going to camp out here and wait for reinforcements? Is that it?”

Apache just laughed, pointing to the cliff wall to the right of us. As I focused, my perception began to shift causing the harsh angles to pull apart like a mirage as it revealed a narrow entrance. Another Indian, one dressed just like Apache, came out and waved at us before disappearing back into the mountain, never saying a word. Apache climbed down at last, and walked his horse through it.

“Go on,” Moto smiled. “It's safe.”

Sam wasted no time chasing Apache through the hidden access. Felicity and I held hands again and made our way into the dark mouth of the cave, the sound of running water echoing off the dark mossy walls around us. There was a small light up ahead and we instinctively followed that. The light grew as we approached, revealing a bustling village tucked away on the other side as we exited the damp cave. There were dozens of smiling faces going about their busywork as we walked out among them. Only a small child who had been playing with a toy bow and arrow gave us a second look, stopping to smile and wave as we passed him. Felicity smiled and waved back.

“What is this place?”

“This,” Apache spoke at last, spreading his arms out to indicate the village now swarming with life around us, “is Xanadu.”

“Wow,” Sam exhaled, his eyes big with wonder.

“You said it, Sam,” I added with a smile.

“Come follow me,” Apache said. “We need to talk about what happens next, and I could use a poultice for my swollen eye.”

“I still can't believe you let someone sneak up on you,” Moto teased. “You must be getting old or something.”

Moto grinned as Apache shook his head, turned and walked to a big tree house, tying up his horse before making his way up a series of rope and wood stairs to the entrance above.

“It's like a dream,” Felicity sighed as she watched him go. “Isn't it?”

“I couldn't have put it better,” I agreed.

Chapter Four

Apache's tree house was actually just an entrance point to a sprawling network of platforms that ran through the small forest. We hurried to keep up with him, passing a pack of small, squealing children too caught up in a game of tag to give us a second look. Looking up I could see the fresh blue California sky, but it seemed like a dome floating over our heads a million worlds away. We were in a valley surrounded by tall cliffs with no visible entrance or exit in sight, completely insulated from attack by any other means except by air. There was even a waterfall that flowed into a small pool, draining off and returning into the mountain tunnels.

“The trees give us more than enough coverage,” Apache said, not bothering to look back in our direction. “It's a smaller window than it looks over our heads. You have to know where you are supposed to be looking to catch a glimpse, and then the thick canopy usually obscures all traces of us. Outside of the tunnel there is no realistic way in or out.”

“What are you protecting?” Sam asked.

“For starters, there's our village,” Apache said in a happy tone. “This is an uninfected and uncontaminated place in the world with all the resources needed to indefinitely remain that way. As you can see we have a river that runs through the mountain bringing us fresh water to drink, our own crops including fruit trees, and a fair selection of livestock. We've even managed to make our own dairy. That's reason enough to need extra protection in the new world.”

“Because you can make cheese?” Sam asked. Apache laughed lightheartedly.

“I meant all of the rest of the stuff too,” Apache assured him. “Although now that you mention it, there probably are some people who would be willing to risk dying for a bite of nachos.”

“You said the village was just the first thing you were protecting,” I said, feeling my stomach kick into high gear at the mention of delicious snacks. It was no great secret that I'd been missing junk food since Z Day hit. I complained about not being able to hit up 7-11 for Doritos and Funyuns and Snickers bars pretty much all of the time when I was back in Freedom Town. It got so bad I'd even caught my men doing impersonations of me. I actually thought most of them were pretty funny.

“That's right,” Apache said cryptically.

“So what else are you protecting?” I pushed.

“This,” he said, stopping at another platform and spreading his hands. Down below us grew a patch of wild plants with small green leaves and pinkish flowers. Each had several glossy-looking orange bulbs shaped like elongated ovals or little, stretched footballs.

“What are they?” Felicity asked.

“Iboga plants. These plants grow year-round in the rainforests of Africa. We've had no trouble recreating suitable conditions for them to thrive here as well. This swatch of land falls in what was once called the Fertile Crescent before Z Day. We can grow anything here in Xanadu.”

“So those things that look like peppers, you chew them up like fruit? Is that it?” I asked.

“No,” Apache explained. “Although by the looks of them you'd think that's exactly how it works. The real power comes from the roots of the Iboga plant, actually from the bark of the root, which is where the highest concentration of Ibogaine is held. Shamans used to chew on the root bark, then have powerful visions. It's also been used for its anesthetic qualities.”

“What does that mean?” Sam asked.

“It means it makes your skin numb on contact,” Apache patiently explained. “So people sometimes use it in small doses on painful injuries. There is a more recent use for the plant, as I am sure you are aware.”

“It's the key ingredient to the antidote for the zombie virus,” I answered. “Without it they can't synthesize the cure.”

“That is correct,” Apache said with a smile.

“Why do you have so much of it growing here?”

“This is really a small yield compared to what we'd eventually like to grow,” Apache explained. “In the future we hope to be able to provide enough to cure the whole State of California, or at least put those who are suffering out of their misery. I'm sure you've also realized by now that the cure won't work for everyone. Some people are just too far gone, their bodies physically incapable of regenerating or, in some cases, their minds broken beyond repair. For these poor souls the antidote simply seems to lay them to rest, as nature intended. These dead do not rise again, but remain at peace forever more. That's really what my life's work is about at this point, helping ease the suffering of living and undead beings.”

“Where did you get it?” I asked.

“We took it from some very dangerous people who were planning on using it for the wrong reasons,” Apache said. “Come inside and your brother and I will tell you more. We don't want to keep our guest waiting any longer than we have to. She's already upset as it is that we didn't let her join the rescue party, despite my explaining that we needed a strong warrior here to protect the camp in our absence.”

Apache turned and walked into the nearest covered enclosure, ducking under the branch-covered hut at the center of a large knot of trees. Sam chased after him and we followed, eager to hear more.

It's bigger inside this hut than I'd have guessed, I thought, but still not as big as a normal apartment.

Looking around, I saw a small living space with a bed and kitchen. From behind Apache I could see the figure of a woman slinking around, looking bashful. Although her hair was now freshly oiled and braided, and her clothing was now both combat ready and form fitting, it was still easy to recognize her.

Sonya, I thought, chills racing up my spine at the surprise of seeing her again.

There was no mistaking the person who had lured us into the worst trap imaginable, and then abandoned us to a horrific fate at the hands of our enemies.

“What the hell is she doing here?” I said, my voice gaining an octave out of frustration.

Moto turned and followed my line of sight, locking eyes with the woman in an intense stare. Then he suddenly sprang forward, as if his feet rested on coils, moving quickly past Apache and making a beeline straight for Sonya, who stood unblinking and unafraid as he approached.

He's going to kill her, I thought. She did save our lives. I'm not sure she deserves to die, but she definitely deserves to be punished for her crimes.

Guilt pricked at my conscience and rose up in the form of a blush across my cheeks. Despite wanting nothing more than to see her get what she justly deserved, I knew letting my brother take out his anger on a person who had saved my skin just wasn't right.

“Wait!” I called out, nearly unable to believe the words as they came out of my mouth. “Don't hurt her,” I begged.

I turned to Felicity, expecting her to look as dumbfounded at hearing the words as I was at speaking them, but instead found her brows knitted in similar concern. She might have been less than suitable traveling company in many ways, owing mostly to her penchant for abandoning you without warning and leaving you to your enemies, but punishing her would be wrong and we both knew it.

What happened next surprised me more than seeing Tank alive with my own eyes, after leaving him squirming in a pile of biting zombies. Moto reached Sonya, and took her by the shoulder. They stared into each other’s eyes for a hard moment, while Felicity and I trembled with anticipation. Then Moto leaned in and kissed her for a very long time.

“So that's what you meant when you said you wanted us to be like sisters,” Felicity said, unable to hide the shock in her voice.

“But John told us that she was working with him,” I protested. “He called her his lady. How do you explain that?”

“No,” Felicity said. “He didn't. I asked him where she was, but I never specifically said Sonya. He must have been talking about someone else.”

“So she was never working for him?”

“She was sent to watch over you,” Apache explained. I was embarrassed because in my shock I had totally forgotten how close he was standing to us. He could hear every word we were saying.

“You mean at Freedom Town?”

“That's right,” Apache nodded. “There were some developments happening here at the time that left your brother and me worried about the safety of your family.”

Moto and Sonya walked back to us holding hands. It was the happiest I think I've ever seen my big brother in my entire life. He just looked complete with her by his side, like two pieces of a puzzle that fit perfectly together.

“What kind of developments?” Felicity asked. “I don't understand. I thought the base was safe.”

“It was, until I found the secret lab by accident,” Sonya started.

“I'd told her not to come to the base,” Moto said, sounding playfully cross. “But she never was one for listening or following rules.” He kissed her softly on the top of her head, and I saw the color rise up in her cheeks.

“Take it easy guys,” Apache said, looking uncomfortable by their open display of public affection. “She's still my little sister, you know.”

“Your sister?!”

“It's the age difference that throws people off,” Apache laughed. “My old man was never around when I was growing up. When I got older I found out why. Turns out he had another family on the side. When Sonya found out the truth, she came and found me. We both knew exactly what it felt like to grow up as an only child, how lonely that can be, but what we didn't expect was how finding out we had a sibling out there would change us both.”

“It was like finding out a part of your life had been missing all along,” Sonya added, “but you'd never realized it before. I spent as much time with him as I could after that, mostly in training. I'd been a fighter my whole life. Now I had someone to share that with, someone who encouraged me to channel my aggression in a healthy way instead of trying to crush it out of me.”

“I taught her everything she knows,” Apache bragged, swelling up with pride. “Although, in all fairness, the desire to question authority and think for ourselves seems to be more of a genetic thing than a learned quality.”

“So she's your girlfriend, right?” I asked as I turned to Moto. I felt stupid for asking again, but the shock of this new revelation was still just a little too much for me.

“That's right, Xander,” Sonya said, cutting in. “Yosha and I met the day you were bitten. In a lot of ways you could say that's where this all began. You see, I didn't know that there was a cure for this thing until that day, and even after it was all over, I still had trouble believing you'd actually been infected.”

She's using his original first name, I noticed. She's not calling him Moto or Patrick, like the rest of us. She must be his girlfriend! Otherwise he'd never allow it. I thought he hated that name.

“She kept the radio I'd left for Apache,” Moto said. “She started contacting me regularly, asking all sorts of questions I couldn't answer.

“You left that radio behind on purpose,” Sonya chastised him. “Admit it.”

“I'll admit that I was a little distracted that day we met,” Moto said defensively. “My brother, who I'd been searching for, turned up bitten by a zom, so yeah, I wasn't thinking a hundred percent clearly at the time. I felt guilty about it. I still do.”

“You do?” I asked. Moto nodded affirmatively. I couldn't understand why. When he left me at Vandenberg there was no way he could have known what was coming, that the zombies would form into hordes and start knocking down walls. How could he or anyone else have known that? I certainly didn't blame him, but I could see from the look on his face that no amount of telling him otherwise was likely to convince him at this point.

“Well, I'll never forget the first time I saw you,” Sonya swooned. “You were all dressed up in your fatigues. You looked so handsome. To me you represented everything I distrusted in the world, force and might and violence, and yet I was inexplicably drawn to you.”

“I remember staring into your eyes a little longer than I should have,” Moto finally admitted. Sonya seemed to be visibly set at ease by his confession of love at first sight. He leaned over and kissed her again, seemingly forgetting that we were even there. Apache cleared his throat and they pulled back, looking almost surprised to still find us there.

“So you began to visit him on the base?” I asked, rubbing the back of my neck and looking down at the floor. I was feeling a little nauseated by their public display of affection as well, not that I didn't understand it. I'd just never seen my brother act like this over a girl before.

“That wasn't possible,” Sonya answered.

“As you know, it's a restricted area,” Moto explained further. “There was no way she could meet me there without causing a huge commotion. Besides, she'd still have to go through inspection and decontamination to get proper clearance.”

“Why? I thought you were in charge,” Felicity said. “After General Conrad passed away I thought you became the top of the command chain.”

“Pulling rank wasn't really an option,” Moto explained. “Besides, I didn't want my men to see me as the kind of person who thinks the rules don't apply to him. It sets a terrible example and is bad for morale. That's why I had to go to her. There was just no other way we could see each other without drawing a lot of attention to ourselves, and I didn't want that either. Whatever was happening between us was special, and I wasn't ready to expose it to the court of public opinion. I made up all sorts of excuses about scouting expeditions and supply raids, just to see her for a few moments at a time.”

“I don't understand,” I said, shaking my head. “As ranking officer you'd need a security detail to escort you on and off the base. How'd you manage to ditch them?”

“I didn't,” Moto began to clarify. “Instead, I handpicked my personal team from the small group of people I knew I could actually trust. We'd approach from the north side, and then I'd backtrack through the forest. Usually, Sonya met me near a cluster of oak trees about a mile from the entrance to Xanadu.”

“I hated waiting,” she admitted. “Plus I loved the look on his face when I managed to surprise him. He'd get so huffy about not being seen together. It was kinda adorable.”

“Yeah,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Sounds like my big brother all right. He's one big adorable teddy bear.”

“As I was saying,” Moto continued, his ears turning slightly scarlet with embarrassment, “we generally didn't get much time together, but there's only so long you can go without seeing the person who makes your day worth getting up for in the morning.”

“We used to sit up at night and talk for hours,” Sonya said with a sigh.

“We'd talk until the radios went dead,” Moto laughed. “I always wondered how she was going to recharge hers and whether or not she'd be back the next night, but she always was. You never did tell me how you kept the radio recharged those first few months.”

“I have my ways,” Sonya smiled coyly.

“Anyway,” Moto said, finally registering the impatient look on our faces. “Things just escalated from there.”

“I wasn't supposed to go onto the base,” Sonya explained, “but I did. It was a chance to practice my stealth skills. I made a game out of it. It was easier than I expected.”

“I'd be sitting in bed waiting for her to come on the radio, and instead she'd pop up at my door,” Moto explained. “We got a little too comfortable though, and we almost got caught a couple of times. After that, I told her she needed to knock it off.”

“But I didn't listen,” Sonya jumped in. “I came back again the next night, but I didn't make it to Yosha's room. Instead, I tracked a suspicious-looking group of civilians escorting a female zombie across the base to a big white building in the middle of the grounds.”

“You mean the lab?” I asked, recalling my short stay there after being treated with Ibogaine myself.

“I didn't know what it was at the time,” she admitted, “but yes. They took her downstairs and put her in a holding cell, like a prison. I managed to duck out of sight just as they came back and walked upstairs again.”

“Weren't you worried about being seen?” Sam innocently asked.

“That's what was so weird about the whole thing,” Sonya explained. “These guys didn't seem to care who was watching. They acted like they were a law unto themselves, beholden to no one else. They even had their own little uniforms, black cargo pants with matching black shirts.”

“Can we skip the fashion details and get back to the story?” Felicity asked, impatient to the core. Sonya flashed an angry look that melted Felicity's icy demeanor once more. “Sorry. I don't mean to be rude; I'm just eager to see how all the pieces of the puzzle fit together.”

“When I was sure they were gone, I crept into the hallways,” Sonya continued. “There were cells down there, like a prison. And they were full, every last one of them, with rotting zombies. But these creatures weren't like the ones you see on the outside. All except the woman they'd just brought in had been experimented on in some way, as far as I could see.”

“What do you mean experimented on?” I asked.

“Just what it sounds like,” she said plainly. “They were missing pieces of their skull and had wires sticking out of their exposed brains. Some of them had electrodes on them. Some had burn marks on their upper torsos. This wasn't just your average, sick torture going on. This was beyond full-fledged research. This was vivisection!”

“Who would do something like that?” Felicity asked. I turned from Sonya to Moto and waited for an answer.

“Franco,” Moto replied.

“Who the hell is Franco?” It was my turn to question him.

“Do you remember the strange guy who came on base a few weeks before General Conrad died? He was a walk-on, but he checked out. Short brown hair and dark eyes? Black bomber jacket?”

“You mean the one who looked sorta like a civilian contractor?” I asked. “I remembered thinking it was odd to see a guy in blue jeans and a white t-shirt walking around with the General. I thought maybe he was a former Air Force guy or something, because of the jacket.”

“Right,” Moto replied. “That's him.”

My mind flashed back, remembering the odd feeling I'd had in the pit of my stomach watching a guy in street clothes being saluted by a superior officer. At the time, I'd written it off as just another oddity of our newly formed Unified Armed Forces Alliance. We had former Marine Sharpshooters bunking with Army Rangers and Navy SEALS, all now part of the general rank and file of the UAFA. Port Hueneme was originally a Naval Base, home of the SEABEES, but for the time being, the old divisions no longer applied. It could be frustrating too, since each branch of the military put emphasis on different combat techniques and skill sets. To top it off, the base had seen a surge of new recruits since the day General Conrad blew the trenches around the core of the base. Many had simply walked up to the gates begging for asylum, then volunteered after being told the base was off limits to ordinary civilians. Not only was it the fastest way to get a hot meal, a fresh shower, and a safe bed to sleep in, it also meant they would be given a weapon and trained in self-defense. Turns out the zombie apocalypse was the best recruiting tool in the history of the armed forces.

The only problem was that many of the enlisted men turned their noses up at the wave of new Joes flooding in. They'd devoted their whole lives in the service of their country, and didn't like being lumped in with guys who'd only signed up to save their own hides after all hell had already broken loose. As far as they were concerned, these were guys who didn't know the meaning of the words country, service, or sacrifice. Not only did they look down their noses at them, making up nicknames for them like Fobbit or Plant Eaters or worse still, Obaffz (One Bite Away From Full Zom), they also didn't trust them. Basically, there were still a lot of kinks to be worked out.

Franco had come along right at the peak of one of those periods. He seemed a bit off, but I couldn't put my finger on it, and besides, a lot of things were off with the world. Beyond that, I had no lasting impression of the guy. In all honesty, I'd been too involved at the time in my new life with Felicity to pay much attention to anyone else. It was, after all, technically our honeymoon.

“He had credentials from the CIA, but he said he hadn’t been with them for years and that he was now part of some Black Ops group,” Moto explained. “The General took him into a private meeting that lasted over an hour. When they came out, we were instructed to get Franco and his men anything they needed and to stay out of their way. Conrad said it was a sensitive project they were working on, and that it had the utmost importance. He said he thought they could turn things around for us.”

“I don't remember a group of civilians on base at the time,” I countered.

“We disguised them as officers,” Moto informed us. “Gave them clearance, uniforms, weapons, and anything else they needed. They slipped right in and no one noticed; no one except Sonya that is.”

“That's the problem with the military,” Sonya jeered. “Sometimes all the rules and regulations leave you blind to what's happening right before your eyes. No one is taught to question. They're just trained to salute.”

“Franco brought a handful of guys with him the next time he came back,” Moto said, ignoring her taunt. “We don't know where they came from either. Some were special ops, a few were Navy SEALS, and one guy looked like the personal interrogator of a foreign dictator. They came and left as they pleased, and answered to no one. The lower part of the lab was off limits to anyone but them. For a while no one said anything, but then the General began to have doubts.”

“That's when they killed him,” Sonya said. “Making it look like he'd died of a heart attack.”

“How could they do that?” Felicity asked in shock.

“We don't know for sure,” Moto said. “However, these operations are pretty standard for spy types like Franco. The General had a heart condition. They'd have known that. They had access to all the medical files, including his. They'd want to use that to their advantage, especially when he began talking about revoking their access to the base and ending their study.”

“So they slipped him a drug?” I asked.

“We doubt it,” Sonya said. “It seemed unlikely they'd do something that could be traced back to them, even if there was only the faintest possibility of discovery. They needed everyone to go along with their plan.”

“I thought there were drugs that didn't leave a trace,” Felicity added.

“Potassium chloride breaks down in the system,” Sonya explained. “But there's always a chance of the wrong dose either giving them away or else not doing the job. Plus, old habits die hard. Why go through all that work when there is a faster, more effective way to get the job done?”

“Air Embolism,” Moto interjected. “It's totally undetectable. A direct injection of air via syringe to any vein causes the chambers of the heart to fill with air as well, which causes a heart attack.”

“Wouldn't that leave some kind of visible mark?” I asked.

“Not if a small enough gauge needle was used,” Sonya offered. “Like the kind people use for insulin.”

“The General was a diabetic,” I said, suddenly getting the connection. “The guys who found his body probably never even checked for puncture wounds, and even if they did they'd be explained away as part of him taking his daily insulin dose.”

“Now you're getting it,” Moto said. “They mask the crime of murder with a natural cause of death like a heart attack. No one was the wiser.”

“Covering up murder is just part of the job description with these people,” Sonya said in disgust.

“I became the guy in charge, but right away I knew something wasn't quite right,” Moto admitted. “I couldn't shake the feeling that General Conrad had been murdered for questioning the secret project, but I didn't have any proof. I started asking questions about the project, but Franco told me that all his information was classified and only available on a need-to-know basis. The more I pushed him on details about it, the more tense things got. He refused to even tell me who he was reporting to, and at one point challenged me to a fight in front of the men to settle it once and for all. Two nights later Sonya tracked them into the labs. The next day I sent you to Freedom Town. That night Sonya and I hatched a plan.”

“Our first of many secret missions of our own,” Sonya said with excitement.

“We hid her on the base all day long and when night came she broke into the lab once more, stealing all the files on synthesis along with every last sample of Ibogaine, including the clones now growing below us.”

“Basically, I wiped out their entire operation,” Sonya rightfully bragged.

“How did she get off the base unnoticed?” I asked.

“I left a pair of keys along with a uniform and a clearance badge in one of the Humvees,” Moto admitted.

“What about your hair?” Felicity asked.

“I wore a hat. Honestly, they never gave me a second look. They saw the clearance and just waved me through. I drove out with the plants and the data, and they sealed the gates behind me like nothing had happened.”

“The next day Franco came storming into my room right after sun up,” Moto explained. “He was so angry it looked like steam was going to come out of his ears. He started accusing me of aiding and abetting the enemy, telling me it was treason and that he'd see that I got what was coming to me for it. He was no longer calm and in control. It was like the mask was off and what was underneath was slightly less than human – almost like a demon.”

“So what did you do?” I asked, needing to know more.

“I told him that I had no idea what he was talking about. I got real angry right back, yelling in his face that I was now the commanding officer in charge, and that if he ever spoke to me like that again I'd have him court-martialed, or worse. I figured the only way out at that point was to feign ignorance and pretend to be outraged by his accusations. It worked for a minute too.”

“How do you mean?” I pressed him.

“He started pacing around my room talking to himself,” Moto said. “He kept going on about the girl in the video footage raiding the lab, and how she looked familiar to him.”

“We'd never met before,” Sonya said. “For the record. I still think he was fishing, trying to see if Yosha, I mean Moto, would slip up if he kept talking. I think it was another one of his tricks.”

“Franco began trying to piece together what had happened,” Moto continued. “He immediately saw the theft as part of a bigger plot against him, one that had been carefully planned and executed to disrupt his project. From there he began speculating on how she'd gotten on and off the base, and insisting that we do a vehicle count. I went along with his suggestions, not expecting them to lead to much.”

“Boy, were you wrong,” Sonya put in.

“By lunch he'd convinced half the base that the same terrorists who, the night before, had attacked a secret project to end the zombie virus were to blame for the General's death,” Moto said. “He had images of Sonya passed around and declared her an enemy combatant. He even offered a reward to the soldier or soldiers who could bring her in alive. When I heard that, I felt my blood run cold. I knew right away he intended to torture her until he found out where the plants were.”

“How awful,” Felicity gasped. “What did you do?”

“What choice did I have at that point?” Moto asked. “I went along with it. If I hadn't, I would have looked suspicious myself. It didn't make much difference though, because Franco didn't trust me from that point on.”

“If you were in charge, what difference would that make? Why not just send him away?” I wanted to know.

“I was told by General Helmer in Barstow to give Franco and his men whatever they needed,” Moto said, looking frustrated and angry. “I had to follow the chain of command. Even though I was the highest-ranking officer at Hueneme and unquestionably in charge, Franco began to assume more power, gaining the support of some of the men in the process. He formed a special team, starting with his own men, and gave them their own uniforms. Soldiers took to calling Franco's men Blackshirts because they dressed all in black from head to toe. They still follow him around wherever he goes.”

“That's unbelievable,” I objected, feeling shocked that someone had been able to slip into the base and turn it against my brother. As a Macnamara we were considered almost military royalty, due to our family’s tradition of service. Moto had worked hard to live up to that image. He'd earned the respect and loyalty of the men who served under him.

“It gets worse,” he said, looking grim. “Franco opened up an investigation into 'the attack,' as he called it, and began questioning enlisted men about their backgrounds, making profiles on everyone even remotely connected with the labs. He even formally questioned me at one point. I went along with it as much as I could, without giving Sonya away, wanting to set a good example and remain above suspicion. That's when I knew sending you away was a good idea after all.”

“All this time I thought you were punishing me for something by sending me out to the middle of nowhere,” I admitted. “Turns out you were trying to protect me.”

“Turns out I didn't send you far enough away,” Moto clucked like a mother hen, shaking his head.

“Don't beat yourself up, man,” I comforted him, seeing the genuine guilt in his eyes. “How could you have known that the neo-Nazi's I ran across in New Lompoc would join forces with the bikers and the CIA to hunt me down?”

“Given the way he was acting, I suspected it was just a matter of time before Franco tried to come at me through you,” Moto confessed. “At the time, I didn't imagine he'd unite a complex network of criminals and killers; I just felt it was his type of move, sleazy and underhanded. I couldn't take the chance of him using my girlfriend or my family against me, so I contacted Sonya by radio again.”

“I was terrified,” Sonya admitted. “I hadn't heard from him in days.”

“That's when I asked her to track you down, and keep an eye on you,” Moto explained.

“I got there a little later than I'd planned,” Sonya expounded. “Not only did I have the military on the watch for me, but Franco increased the bounty on my head. He said he'd pay ransom in food rations, water, and gasoline to anyone who took me alive so he could question me. I'm sure you've seen for yourselves by now that people will do a whole lotta crazy things to get any of those articles nowadays. Avoiding the main roads meant always watching my six for Alphas and bounty hunters.”

“Your six?” Sam naively asked.

“My backside, little man,” Sonya said with a smile. “Like on a clock. Twelve is forward, straight ahead.”

“Got it,” he said, looking embarrassed. I smiled at him and patted his head. I was so happy to have him back; I didn't care how many times he interrupted.

“Matter of fact, I arrived just in time to see a pack of Alphas hauling you off to Hellfire,” Sonya said. “I followed and sprung you. The rest you already know.”

“Why didn't you just tell us that Moto sent you?” I asked.

“Actually that was my fault,” Moto offered, casting an apologetic glance toward Sonya. “I didn't want you to know more than you had to know, just in case you were captured again.”

“I wanted to tell you so much,” Sonya said, looking to Felicity for some kind of forgiveness.

“So why did you abandon us to John and his men?” Felicity asked, crossing her arms. “If you were supposed to be taking care of us, why would you lead us right to the enemy – and then vanish without a warning? We could have died! We nearly did! Tank was going to kill us despite John ordering him not to harm us. How do you explain that?”

The look of guilt and hurt on Sonya's face made me feel sorry for her. Clearly, it wasn't her intention to see harm come to us. She was part of the family now by virtue of her importance to Moto, but Felicity was right. She needed to explain why she'd abandoned us when we needed her most, or we'd never be able to trust her again.

“I meant to take you here, back to Xanadu,” Sonya said in a small voice, “but I got turned around by the zombies tied to the trees. They were blocking the path over the hill. I guided Nelly along the main road into Ojai, not realizing what had happened. Haki found me first. He warned me that the others were just behind him, and not to waste a second. I slipped off into the trees and Nelly kept walking along until you were surrounded. By the time I reached the ridge I could hear the Jeep headed your way.”

“Why didn't you warn us?” Felicity demanded.

“There wasn't any time,” Sonya pleaded. “Don't you see? If I tried to warn either of you it would have made things worse. I knew the best thing I could do for both of you was to get back to Xanadu and raise a rescue party. I didn't stop, not even for water, until I was here and able to get help.”

“She was so out of breath it took us nearly five minutes to understand what she was saying,” Apache said sympathetically. “I contacted Moto after that and got him out here. He was able to get word from Haki that you were still in one piece, and being held for ransom by John on Franco's orders.”

“How were you able to get off base without raising suspicion from Franco?” I asked, feeling a lump in my throat as I anticipated his answer.

“I wasn't,” he replied, confirming my fears. “I didn't have time to play games with him and his squad of Blackshirts. I took a Humvee and drove it off base, ordering the guard at the gate to open the gate and not log me down. I didn't look back, either. I drove to the rendezvous point and covered up the Humvee, then met up with Apache and we rode straight to Ojai.”

“So I guess we're never going back again,” I said.

“Actually, we need to head back before dawn,” Moto countered.

“What?” Felicity and Sonya both asked in unison.

“Why?” I asked, feeling genuinely confused.

“After I sent Sonya to watch over you and my brother, Franco started a new project on the base,” Moto explained. “He had his men track down and kidnap a scientist named Dr. Winterbourne. They brought him back to the labs and have been keeping him there ever since. No one is allowed in or out to see him, except for Franco's men.”

“So what's the big deal with this scientist?” Felicity asked.

“Yeah man,” I joined in, unable to believe we were actually going back to face our known enemies, as if nothing had happened. “What's so special about this Dr. Winterbourne guy?”

“Nothing much,” Moto shrugged. “Except he created the zombie virus.”

Chapter Five

“So it's true then,” Felicity said, feeling numb at hearing his words. “Someone actually made this plague that's ruined the world. Someone is responsible for all of this misery, after all.”

After I had been brought back from being turned into a zombie, Moto had given me similar news. I remembered feeling as shocked as Felicity was at the revelation. The idea that someone had intentionally created a virus that caused so much death and destruction that it brought down all of mankind seemed like a hard pill to swallow at first. Over time I'd come to accept it as part of human nature – the dark side that yearned for chaos and annihilation, the dark side that built bigger and more terrifying weapons like the atomic bomb.

There will always be people like Franco and John, I thought. Men who crave absolute power, and the means to inflict suffering on others.

“Who ordered it?” Felicity asked.

“We don't know,” Moto replied. “It was approved by the vice president, but the president himself most likely knew about it.”

“Not signing gives him the ability to deny knowing later on,” Apache scoffed. “When it all hits the fan.”

“How did it get out?” I asked. “I mean, was it intentional?”

“We don't know that either,” Moto admitted.

“What do you know?” Sam asked innocently, looking up with his big puppy-dog eyes.

“We know that we don't want Franco being able to synthesize a new antidote,” Moto patiently explained. “Or something even worse.”

“What do you mean by something worse?” Felicity asked. “What could be worse than the zombie virus?”

“We're not planning on finding out,” Moto said curtly.

“So what is the plan then?” I asked. I was ready to go to war if Moto commanded. I'd heard enough. There was no way I was going to let John and Franco get away with whatever diabolical scheme they were darkly dreaming up, no matter what it was. These were bad guys, plain and simple, and it was our job to stop them or die trying. Moto looked pleased, but not surprised by my enthusiasm.

“You and I will take the Humvee back,” Moto said, doing his best to hide a smile. “We'll radio ahead and try to get hold of my personal security detail. That way we can get a bead on what we'll be in for when we arrive. We'll leave in the morning so we have full visibility. It's still dangerous to travel between the base and Xanadu, even in the armored vehicle. We never know when we might run across another horde of flesh eaters.”

“What about us?” Felicity asked indignantly. Sonya crossed her arms as well, looking equally outraged.

“You'll stay behind, for now,” Moto instructed.

“Like hell I will,” Sonya started, but Moto held his hand up and stopped her.

“Look,” he said. “We need to keep you and the rest of the gang here, out of harm’s way, at all costs. You've already been through enough to turn your hair white. I'm not going to allow you to suffer any more.”

“Allow me?” Sonya fumed.

“This is still a military issue,” Moto shot back, growing visibly upset before catching himself and regaining his composure. “There is still a chance I'll be able to resume control when I get back.”

“I don't see how,” Felicity protested, nervously wringing her hands. “Franco's gonna know the score when you turn up with Xander for sure, that is if John hasn't already told Franco his story. He's probably got half the military out looking for both of you right now, scouring the woods near the entrance for any sign of us.”

“Maybe,” Moto said. “But I doubt it. Remember he can't risk tipping his hand…not yet anyway. Not until he has enough supporters to keep the rest of the enlisted men in line. Sure, now he realizes I know about his part in the plans, he knows that I'm on to him and am part of the conspiracy to stop him, but he won't be able to do anything about it for the time being.”

“How long will it take him to have you killed in an accident just like he did with General Conrad?” Felicity demanded.

“I'll have my team assembled long before then,” Moto assured her. “Franco and his Blackshirts will all be under arrest awaiting trial for treason. There is already a plan in place to take them by force if necessary.”

“So you're really just gonna hand yourself over to him?” Sonya said in disbelief. “I don't know which part of your plan is crazier; the fact that you want to put yourself in mortal danger for no reason at all, or the fact that you expect me to just sit here and wait for word you've been killed at the hands of a petty tyrant.”

“I'm still the ranking officer on base,” Moto said confidently. “I have a responsibility to my men and to my country. I don't take that lightly. We've talked about this before. You're going to have to learn to trust me.”

“It's not you I don't trust,” Sonya hissed, her eyes flashing in anger as she balled up her fists.

He reached out and put his hand on her shoulders, but she furiously shook it off. She stormed out of Apache's shelter without another word. Moto chased after her, leaving us standing there in shock. Apache clapped his hands together.

“Time for dinner I guess,” he said warmly, glossing over the obvious tension still in the room. “Who's hungry?”

“Xander,” Felicity whispered, using her small voice as she took my hand. “Please tell me you're not going on this suicide mission with Moto, that you'll help us talk him out of it? Please, baby? For me.”

I looked at her, then around to see Sam and Apache trying not to stare at us.

“Can we talk about it after dinner when we've had some time alone?” I asked, feeling embarrassed and darting looks around the room again.

“Sure,” she said at once, letting go of my hand. The tension began to seep slightly from the room. “I trust you, baby.”

“Thank you,” I said, feeling better about it right away. “Now that you mention it, I am pretty hungry. What's on the menu?”

“I thought you'd never ask,” Apache said, coming back across the room and stepping between Felicity and me. Taking us in his arms, he guided us back outside.

Apache began at once to tell us about the village and how things operated. He explained that everyone in Xanadu was trained in a particular skill, but that they all took turns doing unpleasant jobs, like making sure the sewage pipe was properly removing waste, or helping prep and cook. He explained that he was the last of a council of Elders, but that he had turned decisions about their future over to a group vote. He showed us people patching thatched roofs, while others were making pottery and necklaces, and some taking out bundles of trash to the compost piles out by the crops. There was so much happening in the bustling village that it was hard to keep up. Sam followed along like an eager puppy adding comments that, for the most part, fell on deaf ears – a fact that his excitement did not allow him to notice, as far as I could see.

“This is Tarunika,” Apache boasted, as they briskly walked past a beautiful girl working on a fabric loom, making cloth out of wool. “She's not only the best fabric maker in Xanadu, she's also a fierce warrior and teaches math to the children. Her hobbies include baking desserts and making herbal ointments.”

“That's amazing,” Felicity sighed. “I'd love to try a sample some time.”

“Here,” Tarunika offered, thrusting out a small wooden bowl with purple foam in it. “It's lavender hand and body lotion.”

Felicity took a dab and began working it in, her face lighting up as the lotion spread.

“It tingles,” she exclaimed. “I wasn't expecting that.”

“It heals small wounds and cuts,” Tarunika explained.

“Thank you,” Felicity said appreciatively. “It's amazing.”

“Have some,” Tarunika graciously offered, handing her a small vial. “My gift to you.”

“I don't know what to say,” Felicity quickly replied. “You're very kind.”

“It's nothing,” Tarunika smiled. “Maybe later I can help you oil and braid your hair to keep it from tangling.”

“I'd like that,” Felicity beamed.

“Here comes just the person I wanted you to meet.” Apache waved as a muscular young man with dark eyes and dark brown hair came strolling up. “This is my son, Kaya.”

“I heard you were back,” Kaya said, embracing his father. “Welcome home.”

“Any troubles while I was gone?”

“Nothing I couldn't handle,” Kaya laughed. “Mostly just watching Sonya pace back and forth and make herself sick with worry.”

“Speaking of which,” Apache warned, “she's in a mood right now. Best to go easy on her.”

“Guess that explains why she and Moto blew me off when I said hi a moment ago. They were headed out toward the waterfall.”

“They'll be fine,” Apache assured Kaya. “They just need some time alone to sort things out. Smells like the stew is nearly ready.”

“It is,” Kaya said. “I worked kitchen detail today. We just started serving. In fact that's why I came up in the first place, to grab Tarunika and bring her down. When she gets going on a project she can get so absorbed she forgets to eat.”

“We can't have that,” Apache said pleasantly. “Let's all go down together.”

Apache led the way and we followed, Kaya taking Tarunika by the hand and trailing just a little behind us. They kept giggling, but I didn't want to turn around and invade their space, so instead I took Felicity's hand in mine and gave it a gentle squeeze. She smiled at me, delighted by the gesture.

We sat in small groups on the open grass, with no central focus. People came and went, some eating, some serving drinks and handing out fresh baked sourdough bread, some taking dishes away. The food was amazing. There was roast deer meat in the stew along with fresh potatoes and carrots. The bread was like nothing I'd ever tasted before in my life. We drank clean stream water and freshly squeezed orange juice. I gulped down as much as I could until Felicity told me to slow down so I wouldn't get sick.

Eventually, Moto and Sonya joined us. They didn't look like they'd worked out all their issues, but at least they were no longer openly fighting. Sam wandered off to play with a group of children, and Tarunika brought out a selection of her famous pastries. They were absolutely incredible; ripe peaches and apple slices wrapped in flaky crusts coated in sweet juices. I had forgotten how much I’d missed dessert.

Afterward Apache, Kaya, and Tarunika took Felicity and me to see the Iboga fields, while Moto and Sonya snuck off again. We sat near them as Kaya inspected the bulbs and checked the root growth.

“Looks like another mature batch is almost ready,” he told Apache.

“Good,” Apache said. “You can start working in your lab again in the morning. I'll have some villagers come down at sunrise and start harvesting. That way you'll be all prepped and ready by the time the root is cooked dry and crushed to fresh powder.”

“Ready for what?” Felicity asked.

“To start synthesizing batches of antidote of course,” Apache replied with a big smile. “We've got everything we need right here to whip up hundreds of doses.”

“What about spider venom?” I asked, recalling my brother telling me about how the brown recluse played a role.

“Found a way around that,” Kaya said with a wink. “Trade secret. Turns out my way works better, or at least faster anyway. In most cases, I've cut the coma period down to less than forty-eight hours.”

“We've got a small stockpile all ready, and are working on a delivery system,” Apache added.

“How did you figure out how to make it?” I asked, remembering Moto explaining to me that it was a very difficult concoction to replicate.

“It was all in the notes Sonya brought me,” Kaya said. “The solution was fairly straightforward once I had them, almost like a recipe. From there I just did a little tinkering.”

“A very complicated recipe,” Apache threw in. “Don't let his modesty fool you. He's spent countless hours training in medical sciences and biology. Always was a smart kid. Hell, if Z Day had never happened, he'd probably be one of those big shot research doctors locked up in a building, trying to come up with a cure for cancer.”

“Looks like I still found a way to try to save the world,” Kaya smiled. Apache, unable to help himself, took the opportunity to mess Kaya's hair up. Kaya, looking miffed, pulled away from his doting father with an embarrassed smile and ran his fingers through his hair, trying not to make it obvious he was watching to see how Tarunika would react. They were clearly head over heels for each other. You could tell by the adoring look on her face.

“When you say you're looking for a delivery system, does that mean you're planning on using it for defense purposes?”

“Not exactly,” Apache replied as he turned and looked at Felicity.

“We were thinking more along the lines of using it for offensive purposes,” Kaya added. “We plan on turning back as many as we can.”

“What about the ones that are already too far gone?” I asked.

“Their spirits will finally be allowed to pass on,” Apache said reverently. “Either they will find their way back to the land of the living or go to the Great Beyond, but they will no longer be trapped here in terrible misery, suffering from mindless hunger. That's the most important thing. That's the best we can offer them now.”

I thought about the vivid hallucinations I experienced when I was given the antidote, how I could no longer tell if I was alive or dead, how I'd wandered aimlessly from one vision to the next, working out issues from my past. By the time I came down and saw Moto was there with me, I could no longer tell what was real and what was a fantasy. My mind had been broken, but my soul had been purified of the hot, seething anger that clouded everything it touched. I imagined those who would choose not to come back would at least be liberated from that terrible state of helplessness, and I felt okay with it. I would have done anything to end that kind of unthinkable torture.

“And most importantly, they won't be a threat to other people,” Kaya added.

“How do you plan on administering the serum? It's not like you can just sneak up on a cluster, much less a full horde. Plus, won't someone have to monitor them as they turn back? I was out for nearly a full week.” I was really just thinking out loud. I hadn't meant to sound pessimistic, or to shoot down their plan. The questions were out of my mouth before I had time to think.

“We're working on a plan,” Kaya stated, looking slightly peeved by my less than supportive sounding comments. “We just need people to believe in us; people that want to help should be part of the solution instead of being part of the problem.”

“Sorry,” I said, feeling genuinely contrite. “I wasn't trying to rain on your parade.”

“We've got a few ideas about the best way to administer the antidote,” Apache told us. “We've been working on this for a while. At first we tried to vaporize the serum and simply let them inhale it.”

“Zombies would simply wander into it and absorb it through the lung and skin tissue,” Kaya continued, again looking excited to tell us what they'd been up to. “Only it didn't work. It was too simple; too good to be true.”

“Since then, we've been working on creating portable sized doses that can be mounted on arrows or set into blow darts,” Apache went on. “We've made great progress too. Just last week one of our farmers discovered a way to turn corn stalk into aerodynamic spike strips. We're still monkeying with them, but there is a good chance they will work. We haven't had the time to field test them.”

“The hope was to be able to knock them out cold first,” Kaya explained. “Once we've neutralized the threat, then teams will be able to move in to monitor the health and safety of the infected as the Ibogaine takes hold. We've even been working on making restraints and face masks to help prevent the chance of further contamination.”

That's what they were using to tranquilize the guards up at the base camp in Ojai, I thought, remembering the dart sticking out of Tank's neck. They were testing out the new delivery system.

“What about people who have already been turned?” I asked, trying to sound more inquisitive than judgmental. I wasn't looking to have my head bitten off again by Kaya. “I mean, I thought once we'd been treated the antidote wouldn't work on us again.”

“Yeah,” Kaya shrugged. “There are still flaws for sure. Not everyone is going to make it back. Still, we've got to try to do our part to end this nightmare and restore order to what's left of the world, for the sake of all living creatures.”

“How many can you turn at a time?” Felicity asked, speaking up at last. “I mean, judging by the amount of antidote you are able to make at one time, then administer, and adjusting for the time it takes to monitor the treated, how long would it take to really start seeing a difference?”

“If all goes well tomorrow with the harvest, I'd say we'll have enough to treat several thousand,” Kaya spoke, giving his best guess. “That includes the stockpiles we already have. From there on, several hundred at a time.”

“We thought the best plan would be to start locally, and then spread out,” Apache explained. “We'll have to go city by city, but it's possible we could have the entire state of California in a few years.”

“A few years?” Felicity said in shock. “That's a long time.”

“It's better than nothing at all,” Kaya reminded her. “We've got to start somewhere.”

“I agree with you,” Apache said kindly to Felicity. “I'd like to see things move faster as well. That's why it's so important that Moto do what he can to keep control over the base in Port Hueneme. With the help of the military, we might be able to lick this thing in under a year, maybe even less than six months. If, on the other hand, Franco has his way, it might never happen at all.”

I expected Felicity to flip out on him, but instead she bit her lip, looking lost in thought, an inner struggle raging in her heart as evidenced by the way she furrowed her brow.

“We can talk more tomorrow,” Apache said at last. “I'm sure you're bone tired by now. Let me take you to your home for the night. We made arrangements for you to stay near me. I'll wake you in the morning when it's time. I know you two have a lot to talk about.”

“Thanks,” I said. Felicity just nodded.

We said our goodbyes to Kaya and Tarunika, and Apache led us through a maze of tree roots, then up a spindly ladder made of branches and ropes, and back up to the platforms in the treetops. He pushed open a small wooden door set into a great tree, and bid us to enter. Inside, a pot of glowing coals warmed the room and gave off a gentle red glow. There was a large, soft-looking bed nearby covered in blankets. I fell on them face first, thrilled to have someplace comfortable to sleep once more. Unlike the creaky wooden shack back at Gold Strike City, the treetop bungalow was warm and wind free. Best of all, there was no one listening outside. I turned onto my back and watched Felicity as she walked over and sat down next to me. Truthfully, I was just waiting for her to start a fight. I was certain she had already prepared a long list of points and counterarguments to anything I had to say. Instead, she simply stared at her hands, fidgeting.

“What is it?” I asked at last, unable to stand the suspense any longer. “What are you thinking? You don't want me to go, do you?”

“I didn't at first,” she said, not looking up. “But now, to be honest, I'm not sure how I feel. What if they're right? What if Moto could mean the difference between this ending now or years from now, or maybe not even at all?”

“Just the thought of there being an end to the zombie plague is almost more than I can comprehend right now,” I admitted. “It's like we've been stuck in a waking nightmare for so long. I used to think the idea of a zombie coming to kill me was actually kinda silly, like stuff you'd tell kids that were Sam's age late at night to spook them out.”

“The zombies! Look out! They're coming to get you!” Felicity held her hands out in front of her and tried to make a scary face, but just ended up looking adorable to me, as always.

“Exactly,” I chuckled. “Now the idea of never running into another zombie again in my life seems, I don't know…,” I trailed off, lost in thought.

“Impossible?”

“Yeah,” I said, “I guess. Ironic isn't it?”

“It's definitely worth fighting for,” Felicity said softly. “But what am I going to do here if you go? All I'll be able to do from the minute that you are gone is worry. And no one will be able to tell me that it's okay, because I will know for sure that you are definitely in harm’s way.”

“I know,” I said, breaking eye contact. “I can't imagine how I'd feel if the roles were reversed.”

“I know I don't say it enough,” Felicity began, “but you are the love of my life. From the day I first met you...”

“You mean when you threatened to kill me with a shotgun,” I playfully teased, trying my best to lighten the mood.

“Honestly, Xander, I can't imagine a world without you in it. I'm not sure I would be able to survive the loss of you.”

I took her in my arms and held her tight. We didn't speak for a long time. I could feel her hot tears running down her face as I listened to the harmonious sounds of the bustling village outside, muffled by the thick, seamless walls. At last I pulled her onto my lap and began playing with her hair. She gazed at the hot coals, the red glow reflecting in her amazing eyes. After a long while I spoke again.

“You could always throw yourself into helping Kaya and the others,” I suggested. “Rather than feeling lost and out of place here without me. That way you'd be working to help bring about the end as much as me.”

“I was thinking the exact same thing,” she murmured. “The last thing I want to do is sit around with my dark thoughts and vivid imagination while you're gone. Plus the sooner the batches are ready, the sooner we can start returning things back to normal.”

I was glad to hear that she didn't plan on fighting me about leaving anymore. I also felt happy to know that if something were to happen to me she'd be safe in Xanadu, surrounded by people who would protect her at all costs. Apache was right. They could survive indefinitely inside their hidden paradise as long as no one found the way in. That meant that even if Moto and I failed there was still a shot at ending the zombie apocalypse once and for all. More than a shot, actually. We had an evolving plan with smart, good-hearted people at the center of it.

“I love you, Felicity Jane,” I whispered.

“I love you too,” she replied.

We sat in comfortable silence enjoying the moment of peace and safety and never wanting it to end. I drifted off to sleep at the sound of my wife's gentle snores.

Apache came and woke us bright and early, as promised. He guided us over to the bathing area near the waterfall where naked children ran in and out of the pool, splashing and laughing. We bathed in our underwear beneath the cresting waterfall, the sheer force of the water cleaning away grime and filth that had been caked on for days. If I've ever felt as clean, I don't remember it.

Breakfast consisted of an apple and a hot bowl of grain cereal with honey. It was delicious. We both ate quickly, trying not to think about what was coming next. Sam had come back by then, and was full of stories about what he'd seen in his absence. He spoke excitedly about secret caves and hiding spaces in the rocks, mountain trails leading to the top that zigzagged precariously along the walls of Xanadu, and a butterfly garden out past the Iboga patch where all you had to do is lie down in the soft, rich soil and wait for them to cover your unmoving body.

After less than an hour, Apache signaled that it was time for us to get going. I stood up and told Sam goodbye, reminding him to take care of Felicity and the others while I was gone. He assured me that he would do his best, saluting me, which made me laugh. At the last minute, Sam threw his arms around my waist and hugged me tight.

“Come back in one piece,” he begged.

“I will, Sam,” I said, feeling caught off guard by his sudden display of emotion. “I promise.”

Apache walked us out to the cave passage. Felicity and I held hands as we made our way through and out into the sparkling daylight. Outside Moto waited with Sonya, holding hands and laughing. It was good to see they'd worked out their issues as well. More than anything I wanted my brother to be happy, just as I was with Felicity.

“This is where we say goodbye for now,” Apache announced. “Moto will take you back to where his Humvee is hidden, and from there you should be able to easily reach the base again.”

“Thanks,” I said. “For everything.”

“You are welcome,” Apache said warmly. “I know for certain that you have the heart of a brave warrior. I've seen it, Xander, every single time we've met. You brother has it too. It's in your blood. You will be fine. Trust your heart. It will never lie to you.”

I didn't know what to say so I just stood there with my mouth open, nodding my head. Apache laughed and slapped me on the back to break the spell. Sonya came running over and pulled me into a tight hug. I expected Felicity to blow a gasket, but instead she began to softly cry.

“Take good care of each other,” Sonya said. “And don't forget, we'll be waiting back here for word from you. Don't leave us hanging.”

“We won't,” I promised, knowing well that we might not have a choice in the matter if things went wrong.

Sonya released me. Now it was Felicity's turn. She took both my hands in hers and stared deeply into my eyes.

“Come back safe to me,” Felicity bade me.

“I will, my love,” I said.

“You'd better,” she demanded. “Otherwise I will chase you into the afterlife and kick your butt!”

Moto fought back a laugh. I leaned over and gave Felicity a long kiss, hoping it wouldn't be my last.

“Come on, lover boy,” Moto teased. “We gotta hit the road.”

Felicity let go of my hands and walked over to Sonya, who immediately wrapped her arms around her. Moto playfully punched me in the shoulder. He turned and set off into the woods. I followed him, doing my best to fight off the urge to look back, because I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Felicity would still be standing there watching me go, perhaps even long after I was gone, and that it would only make things harder.

Chapter Six

Within minutes we were deep into a thicket of trees, lost in another world of shadows and strangely indiscernible animal sounds as unseen critters scampered through the underbrush. It was eerie how quiet it was otherwise, how quickly we'd gone from one world into the next. Xanadu had a pleasant buzz to it – kids playing, adults working, women singing, a waterfall distantly churning – all of the sounds mixing together at once to make a steady heartbeat of a thriving organism. Out in the default world there was something far more sinister at work and I could feel it creeping in, like a chill that goes all the way to the bone.

It's all in your head, I thought. Don't let it get to you. Don't freak yourself out over nothing. Just keep your wits about you, and keep moving.

I thought about freshman English class and my teacher, Ms. Chupek, telling us about Persephone going between Earth and Hades. Weren't we doing the same thing? Leaving a paradise of sorts to return to a war-torn hellscape full of demons, some undead, and some disguised as living beings?

We didn't talk while we were in the woods. Moto stayed ahead of me a fair distance, following the mental map he'd created, heading back to where he'd left the vehicle. Eventually we emerged into a field of sunflowers in full bloom. Just past that we stumbled onto the Humvee, right where he'd left it. Despite being in too big of a hurry to make an effort to cover it, the vehicle showed no signs of being discovered. It started up right away and we pulled back out through the dirt path and onto the gravel covered farm road. Moto had a radio unit in the car that he turned on, hoping to pick up word that would tell him what was going on back at the base, but the only sound coming out of it was static.

We rode in silence for a while without seeing any signs of life.  After a long time a bald, paunchy, middle-aged man in dirty overalls wandered out of the row of trees in the sprawling orchards. His eyes were completely white, as if they were covered by milky scabs. He had no shoes and his cracked feet were caked in mud. His exposed arms were notched with cuts and scrapes, freely bleeding pus. He was continually being driven on by mindless hunger. There was an open wound on the side of his neck that looked like a bite mark made by a ring of human teeth. Moto took great care to maneuver around the lunging zombie as the zom hobbled toward the front of the Humvee. He let out a sad wail of pure misery as we slid around him, the tires losing traction on the crunching gravel for a moment before Moto steered them in the direction of our skid, and calmly put us back in the middle of the road. I turned and looked behind me for a brief moment, watching the man begin to stumble in our direction, but he quickly disappeared into the cloud of dust we were spitting out.

I hate seeing how much they are suffering, I thought. It hurts me deep down inside...it hurts too much...it makes me want to turn away…and if I don’t, I feel I might just go crazy!

Even though I'd been turned back from the undead, and so had my brother, I'd continued to see the zombies as a threat to our safety and survival. I felt a hatred for what they could do, how quickly they could rob you of everything important in life. I guess I just thought that since the idea of returning everyone back to normal was a far-fetched fantasy, I began to see them not as people, but as the enemy once more. I'd slipped right back into the kind of thinking I had before I was bitten and brought back.

I never allowed myself to see them as people, I realized, guilt crashing over me and making my stomach turn. I was too scared of what it might mean to feel compassion for them.

Now that I knew there was a chance to help them, suddenly they didn't look the same to me. Instead of the normal revulsion I'd felt at running across a walking corpse with tattered clothes and peeling skin, I now felt overwhelming compassion for their plight, along with a heart-piercing sense of moral outrage that someone had done this to them, to us, to the whole world. I could no longer hide behind my rationalizations. It cut me to the core when I looked at the hungry zombie, seeing only the agonizing pain behind his mindless eyes.

“They don't look the same anymore,” Moto said thoughtfully, reading the look on my face like I was an open book. “Do they?”

“No, man,” I wholeheartedly agreed, trying to fight back an unexpected wave of tears.

I turned to look at Moto as he drove.

“Do you really think we can pull this off?” I asked. “Do you think it's possible to end all of this, and make things like they were before?”

“I'm not sure things will ever be like they were before. But yeah, I believe if enough people decide to pitch in and work together, we can put an end to the worst plague the human race has ever seen. It's part of the human spirit, the will to survive, to adapt and change and go on. It's how we came to be at the top of the food chain in the first place, if you'll pardon the bad pun.”

“Har har,” I laughed sarcastically. He smiled.

I stared at him for a moment without saying a word.

“Something on your mind?” he quizzed me.

“I've asked you before about how you were turned,” I said, turning away and staring out the window. “And all you ever say is that you don't want to talk about it, or that it's not the right time. You're always too busy to get into it.”

“Guess I'm out of excuses now, huh?” Moto chuckled.

I turned back and glared at him.

“Why don't you want to talk about it? Why won't you tell me what happened?”

“It was stupid,” he said, looking embarrassed. “That's why. I made a dumb mistake and I nearly paid the ultimate price for it.”

“So tell me about,” I pushed. “I think I have a right to know...as your brother.”

“We were doing supply runs,” Moto sighed, looking deflated. “I had three guys with me in the Humvee. We were going store to store in a strip mall, knocking down walls and scavenging for useful supplies.”

“You mean like medicine or bullets?”

“Yeah,” he said quickly, “or water or canned goods. You know, anything that might come in handy. We were just off the freeway in Camarillo.”

“And you got attacked by zombies?” I asked.

“Not exactly,” he stopped me. “At least not at first anyway. We'd been going door to door for a little less than an hour, finding very little, to be honest. The day was kinda hot. The guys were goofing around. They'd peeled down to essentials at that point, just shirts and pants. They put down their weapons. We found a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue Label in the dry cleaner’s office, and began passing it around. I didn't want to come off as a hard boss, so I just let it slide. We thought we were out there all alone.”

“So what happened?”

“I went out behind the buildings,” Moto’s eyes darted back and forth as he spoke. “There were dirt fields back there, overgrown with weeds. I had to relieve myself, and wanted to do it in private. I started going and I looked up at the warm sun and the next thing I knew something bit my calf just above the boot. I looked down in shock to see a scraggly-looking man gnawing into my leg. He had no eyelids and he just stared up at me, snarling the whole time. I can still see him when I close my eyes at night.”

“Was he a crawler?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Moto said. “You could call him that. His pants were empty below the knees, as if someone had chewed off his calves and now he wanted revenge. He was one of the migrant farm workers who used to pick the vegetables. He'd crawled right out of the weeds and taken a chunk out of me, all because I closed my eyes for a minute. I was so angry, I couldn't see straight. I beat him with the butt of my gun until I cracked his skull and he stopped squirming.”

“So why couldn't you tell me?” I asked.

“Because I was embarrassed,” Moto shouted. “I still am. I let my guard down, and because of that I almost died. If it hadn't been for my men taking me right back to the base, I would have died for sure. I begged them to just shoot me right then and there. Instead, they took me back to General Conrad. He had sample batches at the lab, stuff that Franco had sent over. They were waiting for something like this to happen. The General told me I was doing a great service to my country by volunteering to be a test subject. I didn't see that I had much choice. To be honest, I didn't think it would work. There are times I am still surprised that it did.”

“Well, I'm glad it did,” I laughed. “I'm guessing that if you weren't bitten first, I wouldn't have ever been turned back either. You're a high-ranking officer. At the time, I was just your lost kid brother. They wouldn't have wanted to waste it on me.”

“Probably not,” Moto agreed. “But don't you see what it cost us? It was because I let them turn me back that the General allowed Franco and his men to set up on base. And that ended up costing him his life. All of this is my fault. If I hadn't been slacking off I wouldn't have gotten bit, and if I'd never gotten bit in the first place Franco wouldn't be in the position he is right now.”

“That's nonsense,” I said without hesitation. “Franco would have found a way. It was always part of his plan. Guys like him don't just give up and go away. From what Sonya said, he probably would have brought his own zombie and infected the General himself.”

“I guess we'll never know now,” Moto said, not sounding any better about his role in our current state of affairs.

“What about Franco?” I asked. “How do you think that's gonna play out?”

I felt the fear rising up in my stomach like a tickle, but fought to stay in control of it.

“That's harder to guess,” Moto admitted. “Like you said, guys like Franco don't ever just go away quietly on their own. They only get worse with time. One thing we can be sure of, he's not going to just confess and surrender. Franco isn't interested in what's best for everyone. He only cares at this point about getting his way. Once he got a taste of power, he was instantly addicted. I believe he'll do anything to keep from losing it again.”

“In other words, he's not gonna go gently into that good night as the saying goes,” I said, summing up Moto's point.

“Let's just put it this way,” Moto laughed. “He's not going anywhere without a fight. Something tells me the only way to get rid of a guy like Franco for good is to kill him dead.”

I let his words sink in. I'd known since he'd told us back in Xanadu that nothing short of a battle to the death was going to remove Franco, but it was different now that we were on our way. As we drew closer to the base the radio came back to life.

“Code C. I repeat Code C. ABO,” a voice warned before the radio went dead silent again.

“What's that mean?” I asked

“I can tell you,” Moto cautioned, “but you're not gonna like it.”

“That doesn't mean I don't need to hear it,” I protested.

“I know,” Moto relented. “I was hoping it wouldn't come to this. Code C means Franco has initiated a military coup. I'm not sure how, but he's managed to get enough Blackshirts on his side to keep the rest of the men in line. I knew he was working on it, I just didn't think it would happen so fast.”

“How did you know?” I asked.

“I've got a man on the inside close to Franco that he doesn't know about,” Moto said.

“You mean like a double agent?”

“Something like that,” Moto shrugged. “If my spy wasn't able to see this coming it must be some kind of new development.”

“Does this mean that we turn back?”

“Negative,” Moto snapped. “We've got a mission either way. The ladies might not understand that, but I'm sure you do. You see, Xander, some things are worth risking your life over. Some things are worth protecting. Hell, some things are even worth dying for.”

“You don't have to tell me,” I protested. “I'm the one who's married, remember?”

“Exactly. If you had seen what is in that lab, you'd know we've got to do everything in our power to stop him now, that we can't wait and let it get any worse.”

“Sonya told us all about it last night,” I countered. “Before you two went storming off to fight.”

“She told you some of what she saw,” Moto corrected me. “She left out a lot. I think she wanted to spare Sam from the worst of it.”

“Like what?”

“Do you remember how she talked about him experimenting on them? It wasn't just for fun. He has something specific in mind.”

“What is it?”

“He wants to turn them into something worse than zombies,” Moto explained.

“What does that mean? What's worse than zombies?”

“He's not just trying to synthesize an antidote,” Moto said. “He wants to make super soldiers incapable of feeling fear or pain.”

I shook my head, fighting off the eerie chill his words had sent down my spine.

“That's not possible,” I faintly replied, hoping I was right. “Is it?”

“I'm not sure,” Moto said grimly. “You see it comes from a virus, and all viruses mutate. I think he believes Dr. Winterbourne will be able to help him create a new strain that leaves its victims open to suggestion. Franco wants to program them to respond only to him.”

“So no one will be able to resist his demands,” I gulped.

“Exactly,” Moto agreed. “He'll be able to take over the whole world without ever even getting his hands dirty. We think he's been working on this for a long time, long before Z Day, that it's what he was really doing for the government. Only it didn't produce much in the way of results. Most of the people he's experimented on have died horrific deaths, as the testing distorted their minds and bodies.”

“There's no way the people in charge could just turn a blind eye to that,” I argued. “They'd have to want to shut him down. It's evil.”

“Right,” Moto continued. “Not to mention they needed hundreds of people for their trials, and all they had were prisoners and enemy combatants. They just weren't able to make it work and keep it quiet at the same time.”

“Until the zombies came along,” I said, realizing what he was getting at all at once.

“Precisely. Turns out Franco's friend, who looked like an interrogator, was actually a Colombian scientist they call Dr. G. He went to work right away rigging up units and testing out ways to keep them moving, using live volunteers as bait.”

“Who would volunteer for a thing like that?”

“No one,” Moto quickly rejoined. “Franco and his men were singling out the weak and unwanted from the new recruits, telling them it was for a special assignment. These were outcasts that didn't fit in, scared civilians who thought signing up would be easier than going it alone. Once they got here they were shunned by fellow soldiers, made fun of for their differences, and generally were bullied. You've seen it. You know that it's happening.”

“Fobbits and oxygen thieves,” I remembered.

“Exactly,” Moto chirped.

I had seen it, but there was nothing anyone could do to stop it. I kept telling myself that time would bring the men together, but I turned a blind eye as well. Out of sight was out of mind. The next thing I knew I was in Freedom Town, dealing with undesirables of my own.

“These guys were only too happy to be part of a special mission that pulled them out of the regular lineup,” Moto continued. “They jumped at the chance to volunteer, especially after Franco and his Blackshirts told them they'd be off their feet all day in a cool room, watching television, and eating whatever they wanted. Not one of them stopped to think it was too good to be true.”

“I never realized it,” I said, thinking back to the first days on the base. I had seen a fair number of troublemakers go missing before being shipped off. I'd just assumed they'd been reassigned like they'd bragged about. Now I knew what that meant. “It was happening under my nose the whole time, under all of our noses, and we didn't even see it.”

“Dr. G divided the volunteers into two groups,” Moto explained. “One group was immediately infected. He started by pulling out their teeth while they were still human, before turning them against their will. Once the biological agent was introduced into their system, their mouths were then sprayed with a sort of plastic laminate that coated the wounds. That way they could no longer bite.”

“And that means they can't infect anyone,” I said, following along.

“But they could still tear people to pieces,” Moto countered. “They'd still be possessed with the desire to eat human flesh.”

“So they'd be super strong and unable to die,” I added. “And they'd only respond to Franco. Great.”

“The perfect weapon,” Moto went on. “The second group was then brought in. They were used as bait, cut up and tortured in front of the new batch of hungry zombies, then placed just out of reach. In most cases they fed the zombies the fingers of their counterpart volunteers, to motivate them to break through chains or punch through concrete blocks. A lot of the men eventually bled out and died. The ones that didn't die joined the first group. Their last memories were of having their teeth pulled out one at a time while they screamed in disbelief.”

“How do you know all this?” I asked in shock.

“There were detailed notes of the whole experiment in the files Sonya grabbed. You ever wanna read something truly horrifying, let me know and I will show them to you. Just be warned, though – you might never sleep again.”

“Wow,” I said, at a loss for words.

“From what we can tell, Franco's plan was to enlist warlords and outlaws to his side with the promise of protection and plunder, then turn his army of the dead on the military and anyone else who might get in his way.”

“And if someone ever got out of line or challenged him?” I asked.

“Then he'd sic his undead troops on them to restore order, I guess, and set an example. With a mega horde of hungry monsters he'd be able to knock down the most fortified compound, even take out all of our military installations if he felt like it. We'd be almost powerless to stop him.”

“No one would be able to say no to him,” I said, shaking my head. “He'd be the most powerful man alive.”

“Now you know why we have to go back,” Moto recapped. “We can't let him get to that point. There's too much at stake. If we don't act now, it will be too late. Sure we could hide in Xanadu and try to wait it out...”

“But eventually he'd find us,” I realized.

“...and when he did, he'd have an army of super zombies that would never stop coming until they'd torn us all to shreds, or worse, turned us into one of them to be used by guys like John and Franco.”

It was unimaginable, a fate worse than death itself.

“We're getting close now,” Moto noted. “Get ready for anything.”

I glanced up at the mirror. Looking behind us, I could see a trail of dust rising up into the air as a vehicle came racing up.

“Looks like we've got company,” Moto smirked. “That didn't take long. Sit tight and don't make any sudden movements. Got it?” I nodded in reply, feeling my mouth go bone dry.

They were on us in less than a few minutes.

“Driver,” the voice commanded. “Reduce your speed, but continue forward. That is an order. Do not, I repeat, do not deviate from your current trajectory or you will be fired upon.”

I looked for a side road we could escape along, but it was already too late. Matching Humvees pulled alongside of ours, blocking our escape. We were being guided up to the front gate where a squadron of Blackshirts flanked the newly crowned General Franco. Moto began to slow, and the Humvee behind us pushed us forward.

“One more question,” I pleaded, turning to my big brother.

“Better make it fast,” he said.

“ABO? What's that mean?”

“It means 'All Bets Are Off,’” he said, staring straight ahead at the road. “It means we're on our own for now.”

Soldiers came over and took the keys. They pulled us out of the car, and took our weapons as well. When we'd been properly frisked and searched, they signaled the all clear to the front gates and slowly backed away, their weapons still trained on us.

General Franco smiled as he came around the front of the car.

“I've gotta say,” Franco began, “You surprise me. I thought by now you and your band of terrorists would be long gone, hiding in the shadows somewhere waiting for us to track you down and bring you to justice. The last thing I expected was for you to just pop up here and turn yourselves in.”

“That just goes to show that you don't know me very well,” Moto defended himself, staring him dead in the eye. “If you did, you'd have never come here in the first place. You'd have known the only way I'd let you do what you’re planning on doing is over my dead body.”

“Careful what you wish for,” Franco warned, signaling to two of his security detail who came forward to guard against any escape attempt.

“Now,” Franco said with an evil grin. “Where is your little girlfriend?”

“Someplace safe where you can't ever get to her.”

“One way or another I'll get it out of you,” Franco threatened. “It's just a matter of time, which you have very little left of at this point. As you know, the punishment for treason is death. Right now, at this very moment, they are building a gallows for your and your brother in the middle of the base. By this time tomorrow you'll be swinging in the breeze by your neck, your lifeless bodies on display for all to see. The last of the great Macnamaras, twisting in the wind, reminding everyone just what happens when you cross me.”

“You can't do that!” I shouted before the man next to me slapped the back of my head to silence me.

“I can and I will,” Franco sternly replied. “Military law clearly states the punishment for enemies of the State, not that I've ever cared all that much for the rules, to be honest. Moto here has been found guilty of abandoning his post, assisting the enemy, and treason. He's been stripped of his rank, and labeled a traitor. You've also been found guilty of aiding and abetting the enemy. So you see, I'm well within my legal rights to dispose of you as I see fit.”

I looked over at Moto to see if we should get up and fight. He shook his head no.

“I don't want to see you hang,” Franco seemed to soften. “I believe your family history and your record of service have earned you a chance at redemption. So here it is. Tell me where the girl who took my plants is hiding, and I will spare your lives. You'll spend the rest of your days behind bars as disgraced traitors who turned on their country, but alive and well. There are some here who say you don't deserve that much, that scum like you should be dealt with swiftly and severely, but I'm willing to offer you mercy if you cooperate. It's my final offer.”

Moto spit in his face in reply. Franco laughed as he wiped it off.

“Have it your way,” he smirked. “Give them a taste, boys.”

The next thing I knew, guys dressed all in black were beating us from every side. The beating seemed to go on forever. At one point Moto and I were back on our feet, taking on several soldiers apiece. It made almost no difference. They had sheer numbers and soon overwhelmed us again, knocking us back down to the ground. The last thing I remember before blacking out was curling up in a ball to protect my head, while an endless procession of blows rained down on me.

Chapter Seven

An icy cold splash of water brought me back to life, hands up and ready to fight. I turned in circles looking for the source of my attacker while crude laughter rang out all around me. My eyes were trying to adjust; my head was ringing. I could feel my face was swollen in places. I could taste blood in my mouth. Put simply, I had been put through the ringer.

“Wakey wakey,” a familiar voice sang out. I turned and saw that my brother was next to me, looking exactly like I felt. My vision began to adjust and I could see we were in a cell with bars around it. The man holding the bucket leered at us. It was John from New Lompoc.

“Surprise! Yeah it's me. And guess what? I'm pissed off now! I gave you a chance to do the right thing; I trusted you once again,” the veins in his neck stood out as the blood beamed in his anger-contorted features. “And once again you betrayed that trust! Well look at what it got you. I hope you're happy now!”

“Enough,” Franco roared, walking up and pulling John back from the bars and out of the way. “I don't have time for your petty revenge plots right now. You are to stand there and keep your mouth shut or, so help me, I will have you and your little band of pajama wearing freaks escorted to the edge of the base trenches and executed. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir,” John said without hesitation. “Clear as a bell.”

For a split second I could see John nervously looking around at the cadre of Blackshirts surrounding Franco, concerned they might be there to do just that now that Franco had what he wanted. With Moto and me already his hostages, the balance of power shifted dramatically in Franco's favor. There was no longer any need to pretend, as far as he was concerned. I could see the realization dawning in the horrified look etched on John's face.

If he can execute us without kicking up a fuss on base, I thought, a guy like John doesn't stand much of a chance. That means from here on out he'll have to go along with whatever Franco wants; he’ll have to fight to curry favor with him, or he's a goner.

If the guy hadn't worked so hard on so many occasions to ruin my life, I might have felt sorry for him.

“Good,” Franco said with a cold, calculating smile. “Now that we've got that cleared up, let's get back to business. By now you can see that I'm serious. That little beating is just the tip of the iceberg for you if you don't smarten up and get in line. You can't win. It's over. This is the end of the line for you guys. You had a good run, but all good things come to an end. Tough luck.”

“You can talk in circles as far as I'm concerned,” Moto interrupted. “It doesn't make any difference.”

“Let me make myself clear then,” Franco stated, obviously frustrated. “You've got something I need. Plain and simple. You either give it to me, or you and your little brother are dead. Is that simple enough for you, smart ass?”

“Save your breath,” Moto said with a smile. “There's nothing you can say or do to us that will ever make me tell you where those plants are. You've lost, Franco. Admit it.”

“That's where you're wrong,” Franco countered. “After all, I'm out here and you're the one in the cage. I think you're just trying to fend off the creeping fear with your useless taunts. You can feel your impending death inching nearer and it terrifies you, but it doesn't have to be this way.”

“How long do you think it will be until word gets out what you've done here?” Moto smiled at Franco. “A week? A month? Maybe they know now. Maybe they're already on their way to put down your cowardly little rebellion, you and your insolent pack of thugs. What do you think they'll do when they get here? Have you thought about it?”

“Actually, I have,” Franco fired back. “We'll be ready if that happens. We're not afraid of any army, not anymore, not with the new weapons we have at our disposal.”

“You might have thought about it,” Moto said, “but have these guys?”

Moto looked at the unblinking faces of the Blackshirts behind Franco. They were frozen in place, but behind their eyes he knew he'd just given them new food for thought.

They haven't, I thought. Most of these guys are just caught up in the moment, doing what they are told. They don't want to be on the wrong side, and now that Moto is back they're starting to wonder. Maybe we'll be able to turn one or two of them back to help us escape!

“My men are loyal,” Franco scoffed in reply. “Each and every man here knows he's on the right side, the winning side. Together we're going to forge a brilliant new destiny for this country, and maybe even the world.”

“You'll all be executed,” Moto said in a clear, somber voice. “When Edwards hears about what happened, they will put the word out. Others will come as well. Can’t allow even a single base to decide to defect from the United States Armed Forces, now can you? Especially not now. That would make us look weak. No. They'll want to make an example out of you; make sure no one else ever gets a similar idea.”

I could see a few of the Blackshirts gulp at the thought.

He's getting to them, I thought. They're starting to wonder if they did the right thing. There might still be a chance for us after all.

“Those of you not cut down in battle will be rounded up,” Moto charged on, not wanting to lose their attention. “You'll be court-martialed, found guilty, and sentenced to death for treason against the US Government and its people. At best you'll spend the rest of your days as a prisoner doing hard labor on a work gang, and at worst you'll be forced to dig your own graves before being erased off the face of the earth. Have you really thought about it?”

Before Franco could reply, one of the Blackshirts closest to him stepped forward with a sneer, looking Moto up and down like he was less than nothing.

“Why don't you show him?” The man said, turning calmly to Franco and smiling like a loyal lap dog. “Let them see firsthand why we're not afraid of any army anymore, sir.”

“That's an excellent idea, Zane,” Franco said, the glimmering of pride in his eyes shining like a teacher when her star pupil gets an answer correct in front of the rest of class. “Maybe then they'll understand just how futile their position is, and make the wise choice before it's too late. Get them out of there and bring them to the viewing chamber.”

Franco leaned down to whisper to us, while his men hurriedly unlocked our cell and seized us by our arms.

“Soon you'll see just what kind of terror awaits anyone who stands in our way,” Franco gloated. “Then you'll be begging to join our side, begging for mercy for you and the people closest to you. In case you're wondering, I'm looking forward to hearing you grovel.”

Franco turned and left without a word, John scurrying to his side and Tank falling in behind him. Most of the Blackshirts went with them, but some stayed behind to help escort us. Zane had Moto by the right arm and was taking obvious pleasure in jerking him around.

“Okay tough guy,” Zane barked. “Let's go. And keep it zipped. I'm not interested in any more of your pathetic fantasies about how this is gonna end.”

I hated the way that jerk was talking to my brother. I'd been convinced he was a disrespectful punk from the minute I met him, but I never imagined that anyone would give him a shot at power. Most of the guys didn't like working around him, so he'd often been left to his own devices, which meant hanging out with the other kids like him, the trouble makers and malcontents. I saw a lot of those faces among the Blackshirts. He was their de facto leader and they'd followed him into Franco's mess, for better or worse. There was no going back now.

I opened my mouth to say something smart to Zane, but Moto caught my eye with his iron stare and shook his head, warning me to keep my trap shut. He was right. It wasn't going to do any good trying to pick fights with Franco's henchmen. No matter how many insults I hurled, I would never make a dent. More than likely they'd just make our life extremely uncomfortable in the process. It was better to go along for now, and trust that when the moment came to make our move Moto would let me know.

We walked out of our cell and along an empty corridor that resembled the hospital on base, but instead of looking like a place you'd go to get better, the equipment I saw appeared designed to do the exact opposite. Other than the occasional kick to the back of the legs, or elbow to the kidney shoving us along, we were left alone. I could feel a knot throbbing on my head from where I'd been punched. I didn't even want to know how bad I looked.

Please just let us survive this, I thought. If not for me, then for Felicity's sake. It would kill her to learn I'd been tortured, and then executed in cold blood.

My legs burned as we walked along; my extremities feeling every point of impact from the previous beating I'd taken. I felt the bitter tendrils of self-pity beginning to curl up inside of me, but fought them back with all my spirit, unwilling to believe this was the end.

Don't let them infect you with their propaganda, I reminded myself. If they get inside your mind they've won, but you can fight to keep them out!

At last we reached the viewing chamber and were roughly pushed inside. It was a dark room, not unlike a theater, with cushioned seats that faced a thick wall of bulletproof glass. On the other side was an empty white room with rounded corners and a bright but gentle overhead light.

Zane marched us in and sat us front and center, giving us the best seats in the house. In the back row John sat next to Tank and several of their men I'd seen in Ojai, their faces now visible. John looked much more comfortable than he had when he'd woken me up not so long before. He was easing back into a false sense of security to avoid admitting just how precarious his position with Franco had obviously become. The Blackshirts stood at attention behind the seats, awaiting orders from their new general. When placed in such close proximity to John's men, they didn't look that much different at all.

They're cut from the same cloth, I thought. Neither gives a damn about doing the right thing as long as they are on the winning side. That's all that matters to them.

Franco walked up and tapped the glass. It made a thud as his knuckles rapped against it.

“Don't worry,” he said. “It's strong enough for the purpose of today's demonstration. I assure you, no harm will come to us while we are in here.

“Whatever you think you have to show us,” Moto said, “whatever you think is going to change our minds, you can just skip it. It ain't gonna work, Franco.”

“Oh I think you're going to want to see this for sure,” Franco laughed. “It's not every day one gets to witness the next level in the evolution of warfare. Imagine for a moment the surprise that the Indians felt when the white man showed up with spears that screamed like thunder, sending hot lead missiles like deadly darts singing through the air to kill them.”

Franco began to pace back and forth as he spoke, using his hands for emphasis.

Man, I thought. This guy really likes the sound of his own voice.

“Soon you will know just what they felt like,” Franco bellowed. “And just like those brave pioneers of old, who took their destinies into their own hands and forged empires out of sheer will, soon we will be unstoppable. See for yourself.”

He turned back to the glass just as two Blackshirts walked in with one of John’s men. The man looked sick; he was stumbling and barely able to stand on his own. The Blackshirts roughly ripped the dark ninja warrior hood from the man’s head, revealing a beaten and bruised Haki.

“Just what in the hell is he doing in there?” John brayed from behind us. “That's Haki! He's one of my main guys!”

“Your trusted servant was in fact a double agent,” Franco informed him, without turning around. “He'd been helping out Moto and his band of rebels for some time before they helped him break Xander out of your custody in Ojai.”

“Now just hold on a minute right there,” John protested, but Franco turned and shut him up with a glare.

“It was so obvious a child could have seen it,” Franco said plainly. “The fact that you didn't makes me seriously question your judgment.”

John seemed to shrivel back into his chair, doing his best to make himself as small as possible, while Tank groaned in disbelief and shook his head, as if to say I told you so.

“What's wrong with him?” I asked, unable to help myself.

The men who brought him in had quickly retreated, locking the doors in place behind them as they went. Haki was doubled over now, clutching his stomach and moaning in obvious pain. Franco made no effort to answer, but looked on with obvious glee. Haki began to sweat profusely, then threw up black bile all over the ground. He began to visibly shimmer, his body vibrating with violent seizures, his skin resembling a pot of boiling water. A loud cry rent the air as he threw his head back and wailed, his eyes now solid black, his clothing visibly ripping as his body expanded. The veins in his body pulsed and throbbed as his muscles expanded, turning him into a shredded bodybuilder right before our eyes. For a moment I was reminded of a similar monster I'd battled in Paradise City before being turned by a small child. I felt a sting at the memory, accompanied by the urge to search out with my fingers the ring of scars at my midsection and examine it again.

I can't believe this is happening, I thought. It's too horrible for words. Poor Haki.

Just when I thought it was all over, Haki let out a fresh roar, now sounding more like an animal, and began another growth spurt, increasing rapidly in size like a loaf of bread rising in a hot oven. His skin took on a sickly grayish-blue hue, tinged with hundreds of new rippling veins crisscrossing the stretched skin. When he was brought in, Haki barely reached five-foot-ten. By the time he was done expanding he stood well over seven and a half feet – a monstrous giant zombie with an insatiable appetite and terrifying raw power. He roared in anger and beat his fists against the glass, eager to turn us into his first meal. I flinched, turning to see that the rest of them had the exact same reaction as the glass spider cracked in several places, but held strong just as we'd been promised it would. The only one who didn't seem anxious was Franco.

“He's just hungry is all,” Franco said, looking like a proud new papa. “All that growing takes a lot out of ya. We're gonna need to put something back in his system soon, otherwise he's liable to break free and start causing havoc on the base. We can't have that.”

Franco turned to me and winked. My mouth fell open in shock at how cavalier he was acting. What he'd done was unspeakable beyond words, taking a man and transforming him against his will into an abomination, and yet he acted like he'd brought home a new puppy from the pet store. For the first time in my life, words failed me.

Haki hit the glass again, and the smile vanished off Franco's evil face.

“Sit down, Haki,” he commanded. Instantly Haki sat and began whining, like a frustrated pet not getting his way. “Good boy.”

“I'll be damned,” John said, amazed. “He actually listened to you.”

“So you see,” Franco laughed cruelly, “there is no longer anyone on earth that can stop me. I've got a big enough batch of this new strain to infect half the base. Anyone who resists will simply be turned into a permanent new member of my front line super soldiers, where instead of causing me problems, they'll become an instrument of my vision for the world.”

“You're mad,” Moto said, visibly shaken by what he'd seen happen to his friend.

“You might be right,” Franco said casually, sitting next to Moto and staring him in the eyes. “But it's too late to stop me now. If you refuse to help, eventually the people you love will come looking for you. We both know it. The first things they'll see are the dead bodies of you and your irksome little brother on display for the whole world. Then I'll torture them until they give me what I want. You know I will. I promise you, they will suffer like you can't even begin to imagine. I'll spare no humiliation from them, especially the women.”

“If you even think of laying a hand on her,” Moto threatened, but Franco cut him short.

“It's a lot to take in all at once, I know,” Franco said casually. “It really takes a bit for the true horror of it all to hit you. That's why I'm going to give you some more time to mull it over, to reflect on what you've seen, so you can make the correct decision this time. And for the record, when you do finally realize that you can't fight me anymore, when it sinks into those thick proud skulls of yours that I've beaten you, and you fall to your knees and beg me from the bottom of your bleeding hearts not to wipe everyone you love off the face of the earth, or make them my wretched slaves for the remainder of their miserable days, please don't forget to grovel. It's such a treat for me.”

“I'll die first,” Moto snapped.

“The choice is yours,” Franco replied. “You have until sunup to change your mind. Otherwise, be prepared to meet your maker.”

He gave Zane a nod and we were rustled back out of our seats. The mood was so heavy, Zane didn't even bother with any further insults. When we reached the end of the hall just before our cells, I looked up to see another familiar face.

“Benji,” I cried out running to him. I threw my arms around him, but he pushed me back with a harsh shove.

“Get off me, man,” Benji spat, his features twisted up in anger.

“What's wrong with you?” It was all I could manage. “And why are you all dressed in black?”

A disturbing feeling began to wash over me, as I looked him up and down. He was different, a more callous version of the kid I'd known before I'd left less than a year before. Benji looked at Franco and laughed.

“Nothing's wrong with me,” Benji said. He looked so different than the last time I'd seen him. He was taller now, more muscular, and obviously arrogant. “I'm not the traitor who sold out his country to save his own backside. What's wrong with you?”

He's buying into it, I thought in disbelief. Franco's got him brainwashed somehow.

“Benji,” I pleaded. “They're lying to you, man. You've got to see that. Everything you've heard about me is a lie. Franco and his men are working with John and the bikers to take over the world. Remember what happened in New Lompoc? Tank is here with them. Listen to me.”

The words were a panicked jumble in my head. There was so much I wanted to remind him about, so many obvious reasons he was wrong, but I couldn't get them all out clearly.

“Listen to you,” Benji said in disgust. “Still completely out of touch with reality. Still unwilling to admit the truth, so you've got to make up crazy lies. You're delusional, you know that?”

“Who are you, and what have you done with my friend?”

“I'm still Benji,” he scoffed. “I just woke up is all. Franco recruited me into his operation, and when he did he told me the truth about you and your brother.”

“You know the truth about us,” I blurted out. “You always have.”

“You hero worship your older brother, but if you knew how he plotted with his Indian Princess to kill General Conrad, you'd think differently about him. He's nothing but a traitor. I guess, like Tank says, it runs in your blood.”

“Tank tried to kill us,” I screamed in frustration. “You were there. I saved your life. Don't you remember that?”

“I remember you tricking us in New Lompoc,” he said. “John took us in and treated us like family, but you were so obsessed with finding your brother and joining his side that you made up some wild story about Tank, just to get us to leave. You cost the Parker twins their lives, and nearly killed me as well. It's been you that's been the problem all along. I was just too young and dumb to see it before.”

“This is insane,” I said, shaking my head. “You've completely lost your mind, bro.”

“I don't have to listen to this garbage any more,” Benji shouted in my face. “I should have known you were trouble back at Vandenberg, when you stole several of my comics and then sold them to Weasel and his buddies.”

“What the hell are you talking about?!”

Indignation fired through me. Was I dreaming? I couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth.

“Don't try to deny it,” Benji scoffed. “I know the truth. You've always cared only about yourself. You tried to pretend that you were helping the rest of us out, but really we were just there to be used by you to help get you back here to carry out your deranged terrorist plot. You manipulated me because I was just a kid, but those days are over. Tomorrow morning you're going to finally get what you deserve, and when you do, I'll be there front and center to watch it. I'm looking forward to it.”

My mouth fell open again in shock, as once more I found myself overcome with emotion and unable to speak. My heart felt like it was breaking in my chest. Not only had Franco turned Benji against me, he'd done such a good job at it that the kid I used to think of like a younger brother was now excitedly awaiting my execution. It was more than I could bear.

“Get him out of here,” Benji said. “I can't stand to look at him anymore.”

Moto was quiet as they led us back to our cell and locked us in. Neither of us spoke. It wasn't long before another group of Blackshirts arrived to take Moto away again.

“Where are you taking him?” I demanded. “Franco said we were to be left alone. You can't do this!”

I stood up to fight, but Moto just shook his head.

“Save your strength,” he said. “You're gonna need it. I'm sure I'll be back soon.”

I watched as they bound his hands, and then pushed him along. When he was gone and I was alone, I slumped back to the cold floor and covered my face with my hands. I was overcome with the desire to cry, but I fought it off. Fear and frustration scrambled my thoughts.

What was Benji talking about? I wondered. Why did he think I'd stolen from him? Didn't he remember the truth anymore? That I saved him from Weasel? Maybe Franco has invented some kind of mind control serum as well. That must be it!

Still, it hurt to think of all the nasty comments Benji had hurled at me only moments before.

What does it matter now? I thought. There's no way either of us is ever going to talk, no matter what they threaten us with. Franco will hang us in the morning when we don't. One way or another, I'll be dead soon.

I felt a weariness come over me, pulling me down into a dark place in my thoughts. I closed my eyes, and tried to think of Felicity's face. I imagined her smile, and dreamed of her gentle touch. If I was going to die, I wanted to use my last moments of life to remember all that truly mattered to me. I drifted off dreaming I was back in bed with her in Xanadu, that I'd never gone with Moto, and that there was still time to fix everything that was wrong with the world.

Chapter Eight

I woke up in time to see Moto being forced back into the cage with me. I heard the door slam shut and the metal lock snap loudly into place. I looked to see who had brought him back, hoping it might be Benji, that I could get a moment alone with him to ask him why he was acting so strange, but the Blackshirt was already gone by the time I'd gotten to my feet. Moto moaned in pain as he crashed to the cell floor in a heap.

I've got to help my brother right now, I thought. I can worry about getting to the bottom of things later.

Moto came back to the cell worse for wear, much worse in fact. Both eyes were swollen, and his nose was visibly broken. Blood poured freely from a wound over his right eye. He looked weaker, worn down by the struggle, but still unbroken.

“What did they do to you?” I asked in horror.

“Trust me,” he wheezed, fighting to catch his breath. “You don't really wanna know.”

“What did you tell them?”

“Not a thing,” Moto smiled. From the look on his face I could see he was telling the truth.

“Good,” I said. “The longer you hold out, the more likely they'll cancel our execution,” I gulped. “Or at least postpone it. I mean, it's not like they can kill you until you've told them what they need to know. Once you do that, I have a feeling Tank will just come in and start pulling me apart like an unattended dog with a sofa cushion.”

“You remember when the neighbor’s dog did that?”

“Yeah,” I laughed. “That's what made me think of it.”

“What was the name of that dog?”

“Sandy,” I offered. “She was a Golden Retriever.”

“Right,” Moto laughed, trying to fight off the fear that had settled over both of us, as the hour of our hanging approached. “And what were the neighbor’s names again?”

“I don't remember,” I admitted. “One of them was named Fred, I think.”

“Amazing isn't it? That you can remember the name of the dog, but not the person who owned it.”

“How can I ever forget the name of that dog? We were out in the street playing Nerf football when the front door came flying open, and out comes Sandy with the sofa cushion still in her mouth.”

“And the guy,” Moto began.

“Fred,” I added.

“Yeah, so then Fred starts chasing the dog all over the front lawn with a rolled up newspaper, yelling at the top of his lungs like some kind of maniac,” Moto laughed.

“Bad Sandy! Down Sandy! Heel Sandy!” I got up and did an impersonation of our old neighbor, waving my arms around and making crazy faces. Moto howled with laughter. It felt good to be able to give him some kind of happiness, to take both our minds off of the situation for just a moment.

“I never told you, but dad said that guy came over after I moved in with you,” Moto admitted.

“Fred?”

“If that was his name,” Moto continued. “I guess he asked dad a ton of questions about me, said he was worried I might try to barbeque his dog because that's what Asians did.”

“Are you serious? He said that?”

“Yeah,” Moto laughed. “Dad explained that Japanese people don't do that and that it was a myth anyway, but he told me to steer clear of the guy after that.”

“I never knew that.” I was honestly surprised by how racist our kooky old neighbor secretly was. “I bet he was wishing you'd have turned poor old Sandy into a side of teriyaki ribs that day!”

“I used to want to mess with him so bad,” Moto admitted. “I thought about leaving a bag of charcoal briquettes on his front porch and a bottle of BBQ sauce, but I never went through with it.”

“Funny thing is, Fred would probably eat that dog himself now,” I pointed out. Moto nodded his head, lost in thought. We sat in silence for a moment before he spoke again.

“I've got a guy on the inside who can get word out to Sonya,” Moto whispered. “Just hang in there, and our rescue party will come and save us.”

“I hope you're right,” I answered grimly. I could already feel the noose around my neck.

“Hold up,” Moto whispered. “Someone is coming.”

From out of the darkness, Tank walked a beat-up-looking old man in a white lab coat in our direction. He stopped and opened the cage door, roughly shoving the man inside.

“Brought you some company, runt,” he growled, locking eyes with me. He shut the door and bolted us in again. “Maybe you can entertain him with some of your made-up stories about what a hero you think you are.”

“You seem to be in a good mood,” I lashed out. “For a guy whose best friend has thrown him aside for his new pals. Guess you can't blame them really, seeing as how you're not entirely trustworthy.”

“I am in a good mood,” Tank smiled. “Because in just over an hour, when the sun comes up, I'm going to get to see you hang from the neck until you mess your britches and die. You could say one of my dreams is coming true. Oh sure, it's not the same as getting to do it myself, but it's still gonna be pretty darn satisfying to watch you kick and gasp and fight for life, only to fail and go limp and die.”

I didn't have a good comeback for that. Instead, my mouth went dry and electric fear began to climb from the base of my spine upward, causing all the hairs on my arms to stand on end.

“I'll get to see every last second of it from the moment you drop to the instant the light goes out of your eyes,” he said greedily. “I'll be right up front, so the last thing you'll see is me taking pleasure in your demise.”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out in reply.

“I don't know if you know much about hanging a person,” Tank said nonchalantly. “It's not done regularly anymore, but it used to be an art form before it went out of fashion. You see, you've got to get the drop just right, to use just the right length of rope, otherwise the neck won't break. Instead, the condemned man will just kick and struggle, suffocating slowly in agonizing pain. At that point, the only thing you can do for them is pull them down by the legs to try to speed up the process. Back in the days of segregation, there were guys who were so skilled at determining the precise amount of rope to use they could hang a man over a tree branch or lamppost. Got to the point in the South, you couldn't walk down the street without seeing a man lynched for not knowing his place. Now I'd imagine there isn't one in a hundred with that talent. Chew on that for a while, sport.”

Tank turned and slowly walked away, whistling a happy tune as he went, while my imagination began to run wild with all the horrible things that could go wrong in the next few hours. There was a very real possibility we'd both be dead soon. The old man’s coughing brought me out of my stupor.

“Who is this guy?” I asked.

“He's the one we came to find,” Moto answered, looking suddenly optimistic. “This is Dr. Winterbourne.”

“Pleased to meet you,” he croaked, coughing loudly again.

“Okay,” I said, ignoring the man and turning to Moto. “And why is he locked in the prison cage with us now?”

“That's a good question,” Moto replied. “Care to shed some light on that one, Doc?”

“I'm afraid I've got some bad news for you,” he replied dourly.

“Amazing! More bad news,” I laughed. I felt like my mind was already on the verge of snapping, and anything worse might just push me over the edge. “That's great. Just what we needed in our final moments.”

“I'm sorry, young man,” Dr. Winterbourne sputtered in between coughing jags. “But I don't have much time left now either.”

“What's wrong with you?” I asked.

“I'm dying,” he confessed. “Thank God. It's almost over now.”

“I don't understand,” I was shaking my head in confusion.

“You're not making any sense, Doc,” Moto joined in.

“It is what I deserve, just as Dr. Frankenstein deserved to be killed by his monster,” Winterbourne said in a low, pitiful voice. “It would seem, like the mad doctor, I too, will be taken by illness before the creature can take its deserved revenge. At least this way I can't do any more harm.”

“He's delirious,” Moto said. “He looks like he's burning up with fever.”

Sure enough, there were beads of perspiration forming on his brow as he spoke, and his eyes looked glassy and bloodshot.

“What happened to Dr. G?” I asked. “Maybe he can help you?”

“I'm afraid Dr. G won't be helping anyone anymore,” Winterbourne explained. “Seeing as how he accidentally locked himself in the viewing chamber with your friend, Haki, shortly after you left.”

“Franco killed him?” Moto asked. “Why?”

“Actually, I was the one who did it,” Winterbourne confessed. “He was a terrible man, a murderer who delighted in torturing others. He got a fraction of what he truly deserved. It was over far too fast, if you ask me. But Franco didn't seem the least bit concerned that his old pal from back in the CIA days was no longer with us. By the look on his face you'd think he was actually relieved.”

“So you killed him because he was evil?”

“No,” Winterbourne admitted. “I did it to slow Franco down. You see, the doctor knew that I was lying. Franco had no idea if I was headed in the wrong direction, but Dr. G did. It was for that very reason that the work on the new serum developed so rapidly. You saw what it did to Haki. I am the one responsible for that. Now all Franco needs to complete his diabolic plan is the antidote. Once he has it, he will be virtually unstoppable. So you see, I had to take out Dr. G.”

“Won't he just use the batches of super serum he already has?” I asked.

“He may,” Winterbourne said, “but they will be the last he'll ever get his hands on. It's a complicated formula, not unlike the antidote. Easy to screw up. Unstable. The results often unpredictable. Without someone of my background, it will be nearly impossible to reproduce.”

“What background?” I asked.

“I was a theoretical scientist,” he murmured. “Do you know what that means?”

“No,” I said. “What does it mean?”

“It means I primarily worked in an office,” he patiently explained, “not a lab setting. You see, it was my job to dream up things like killer viruses, to conceptualize what they might look like. It was never my job to design or create them, though admittedly I understood that my theoretical constructs could be reverse-engineered to synthesize a weapon. After all, I worked for the National Security Agency. All my funding came out of defense spending. All my work was highly classified.”

“So you didn't think when you made the zombie virus that you were designing a weapon?” I asked, trying not to sound as judgmental as I felt.

How could a person do that? I wondered. How could they separate dreaming up an end-of-the-world extinction-level-event super bug and seeing it unleashed on the planet.

“Honestly,” he said, looking up at me with pleading eyes. “No. I didn't at first. The idea seemed completely implausible, given the consequences. There'd be no way to stop it, to shut it off. I just assumed I was making the ultimate deterrent to war, like Oppenheimer.”

“Except the atomic bomb was used against actual people,” Moto reminded him. “And so was your zombie virus.”

“You sound like the men who came and took me,” he offered in a sad voice.

“So if you're all he's got left,” I exclaimed, “why is Franco beating up on you? I don't get it.”

“He's mad,” the doctor declared. “He knows I've been stalling on him. He wants me to help him develop a new antidote that doesn't require Ibogaine, but I've told him I can't.”

“But you can, right? I mean, after all, the zombie virus is your baby. You know all about it.”

“That's just it. I am the father of the plague that wiped humanity off the map, but I'm not the one who put it together. Viruses are tricky work because of the way they mutate. My work was like a blueprint, but only a skilled architect could put it together in a lab. There were other men who took the horror I dreamed up and gave it birth. Without their notes, I'm about as helpful as an elderly university professor lecturing on the subject for midterms.”

“So why did they single you out?” I asked. “If you can't make it, why did they drag you here?”

“And how did they find you?” Moto added, looking suspiciously at him.

“Franco was one of my handlers,” Winterbourne said. “He knew exactly where I'd be. He came and brought me back at gunpoint on Z Day.”

“Hold on,” I said. “You knew him before all this happened?”

“Yes,” Winterbourne confirmed, nodding his head and setting off another round of harsh coughing. “He worked for an intelligence agency in Washington with access to the project. In fact, his boss was the one who recruited me.”

“For all we know, he's been planning this a long time,” Moto said.

“I told him I couldn't make a new version of the antidote, that it would take years and a full team to create something like that, but he just wouldn't listen,” the doctor explained. “He brought me to this hellhole, and began showing me all his big plans to reshape the world. He's gone mad with dreams of power and glory. I can't be part of this. It's already horrible beyond words what I've done.”

“So you're not going to help him? That's why he threw you in with us,” I stated.

“What he doesn't realize is the role the drug plays in the process, not only physically in numbing the pain of regeneration, but also psychologically.”

“Why does that even matter?” Moto asked.

“Ah yes,” the doctor said with a wistful smile, “the power of the mind. A wise man once said that in actuality all things are created by the mind. Science doesn't really understand it yet. You see the mind is a constantly changing shapeless construct. Unlike the organic matter of the brain the mind cannot be observed, but it's crucial to our existence in ways we can't begin to comprehend. Studies have shown that the mind plays a key role in our body's ability to heal itself.”

“You mean you have to believe you're going to get better to heal?” Moto asked.

“Precisely,” the doctor smiled like he was rewarding an apt pupil. “If you believe you are sick, you become sick. If you believe you will heal faster, you do. That's why they say laughter is the best medicine, although I'd still also take your antibiotics in most cases.”

“So how does Ibogaine fit in?”

“The drug is a powerful hallucinogenic,” Winterbourne explained. “It's capable of effectively rewiring the brain, allowing users to essentially wipe out past trauma and come to peace.”

“Is that why I saw people who had died when I was on it?” I questioned the doctor.

“Yes. That's exactly it. You had suffered a terrifying experience, come within inches of death and had your body taken over by an unstoppable disease. In your shock you retreated into a space within your mind to protect yourself, like hiding behind a locked door. Ibogaine doesn't just unlock all the doors of the mind, it melts them away, along with walls and any other obstructions.”

“So basically you're saying I had to believe I was going to live in order to survive?” I asked.

“In a nutshell,” the doctor said, defending the process. “In the past week we've done clinical trials. Patients that were administered the antidote without first having the drug always come back to us so twisted they’re barely human at all; they are vile, wretched monsters. Most died of shock within minutes of being brought back, even the ones who had been recently turned. One man chewed through his own wrists. Another swallowed his tongue. You see, the drug allows the mind the time it needs so it can heal along with the body.”

“How can you live with it all?” I said, criticizing him. “Knowing how you've hurt so many innocent people?”

The words just seemed to slip out before I knew what I was saying. I felt so disgusted; I could hardly look at the man.

“I can't,” Winterbourne sighed. “Franco hasn't left me with many options. I knew if I tried to run he'd just track me down and punish me, probably cripple me so I couldn't try again. Still, I told him I was planning on doing just that so he'd put me in here with you for a while. It worked like a charm. He said time with two men on death row would change my outlook.”

“Why would you want to be locked in with us?” Moto questioned.

“There's only one way out of this,” the doctor answered. “It makes me sad to admit it, but I'm a bit of a coward. I don't know. Maybe it's more than that. Maybe I'm just too egotistical to kill myself. They say doctors are some of the most arrogant people you'll ever meet, next to airline pilots and tyrants. Either way, it's decided now. You're going to put me out of my misery, and keep them from turning the world into their vision of hell.”

“We're not gonna kill you,” I immediately responded. “You don't get to take the easy way out of this.”

“He's right,” Moto backed me up. “You'll just have to do your best to make up for the damage you've done to the world, and keep on fighting.”

“You're not going to have much of a choice, I'm afraid,” the doctor anxiously replied, bursting out in a fresh fit of coughing. “You see, I took a dose of the zombie virus right before I threatened to quit. Judging by the way I keep losing focus, I'd say we don't have much time left.”

“You intentionally infected yourself?” I yelled. “What, are you insane?”

“That's for history to tell,” Winterbourne sputtered. “If humanity still has a future, that is. My guess is they'll say I was mad, that like so many great men who came before me, I simply imploded from the weight of my own genius. It doesn't really matter much. I won't be here so I'll never know for sure, and as far as I'm concerned I've done the noble thing, sacrificing myself for the greater good. I'm at peace with the choice I've made, and that's all that matters.”

He was barely able to choke out the last of his words. His eyes bulged and blood began to run from the corners. He was already changing.

“We gotta tell someone,” I stammered, turning to Moto. “We're unarmed in here, and any moment he's gonna turn. Look at his eyes.”

“Why us?” Moto demanded an answer from the doctor.

“If Franco finds me he will try to turn me back,” Winterbourne struggled to explain. “It will be agonizing torture, and it will fail. I no longer possess the will to survive this. You and your brother, on the other hand, kill zombies all the time. You have a reputation for putting the dead back to rest. Some might call you professionals.”

“That's it. He's officially lost the last of his marbles” I moaned, anxiety climbing in my chest as I searched around for a weapon.

“Please,” he managed to stutter. “Please make sure when I turn, that you kill me with a blow to the head. Only by damaging the brain will you be able to put me out of my misery forever. I'm so sorry for this. I really am.”

He fell over and began convulsing. Blood leaked in heavy trails out of his eyes, drooling onto his lab coat and staining it.

“We don't have much time,” Moto cautioned, moving closer to me.

“I hope you've got a bright idea,” I begged. “Because this isn't looking good.”

“We could tie him up with his own clothing,” Moto said. “Maybe attempt to restrain him.”

“That wasn't what he wanted,” I argued. “His plan was for us to take care of him.”

“Maybe he should have asked us first,” Moto yelled, growing more agitated as the seconds passed.

“How did he expect us to do the job with no weapons?” I said, thinking out loud.

“There's only one sure way,” Moto suddenly looked sick to his stomach. “It's totally gruesome and messed up.”

“He's coming back,” I said, pointing at Dr. Winterbourne. “Do something! Fast!”

“Turn around,” Moto warned me. “You're not going to want to see this.”

I hesitated, staring at him in disbelief.

What's so bad he couldn't want me to see it? I wondered.

“Turn around now!” Moto roared. I did as he said, still unable to shake the fear that the recently deceased doctor wouldn't spring out at me like a jack-in-the-box and take a good-sized chunk from my exposed back.

I heard scuffling as Moto dragged Dr. Winterbourne and threw him on the ground in the far corner. There were several hard thumps, as if my big brother was beating the corpse up, then a loud cracking sound that could only mean he'd finally broken his neck. I started to turn back, but Moto immediately warned me not to again.

“Don't look now,” he screamed. “You understand? You don't look until I say so!”

“Okay, man,” I said, feeling embarrassed that he was treating me like a little kid.

I stared out of the bars and off into the distance, as I tried to imagine in my mind what the sounds coming from behind me could be. I heard heavy breathing and a loud crunching accompanied each time by a grunt from Moto. Soon the cracked nut sound gave way to a steady slurping rhythm like someone jumping in a puddle. Against my brother's orders, I turned back to see Moto stomping on what once was Dr. Winterbourne's head, but was now a caved-in mess of blood and brains on the concrete floor of the cell.

“It's done,” I shouted, but he just kept going, unable to stop until he was certain the doctor would not be able to rise and attack us. “Enough!”

Moto stopped and stared at me, then looked over my shoulder. I heard the gasp behind me a second later, and whipped around to see Franco, John, and Tank standing there, along with several of Franco's loyal followers, including Zane.

“Time's up, maggots,” Tank said. “What's that behind you? And where is the good doctor?”

“What have you done?” Franco cried out, realizing what Tank hadn't almost immediately. “You've killed him!”

“He turned,” Moto said, panting to catch his breath. “He was going to kill us both. We didn't have a choice.”

“I could have brought him back,” Franco roared, suddenly enraged. “Do you have any idea what you've done? You've ruined everything!”

“Just like I said they would,” Tank chimed in.

“Shut up!” Franco turned on him. “You keep your stupid, petty digs to yourself, you overgrown Cyclops, or I will cut the tongue out of your mouth. Do I make myself clear?!”

Fiery anger shone in Tank's one remaining eye. For a moment, I thought a laser beam might shoot out and disintegrate Franco where he stood. Tank just huffed and nodded in reply.

“Good,” Franco snorted, his face flushed with wounded pride. “I'm not going to tolerate insubordination in front of my men. It's the fastest way to sink a revolution.”

“Is that what you're calling this?” Moto laughed in his face. “A revolution? If you really believe that, you're delusional. This is a military coup, plain and simple, a power grab by a madman intent on bending the world to his own will and killing anyone who stands in his way. This is treason.”

“I'm afraid you've got it all mixed up, Macnamara,” Franco leered. “You're the one guilty of treason. You're the one in the cage waiting to be carted off, kicking and screaming, to the gallows. History is full of people like you, simple minded fools with no vision, men wracked with inner guilt and conflict by the choices they need to make to take the human race to the next level, constantly wrestling with their morality. Men like me know that tough choices must be made, especially in times of war. Men like me dare to take bold measures. We do it for the good of all the people.”

“Sacrificing anyone who gets in your way?” Moto said accusingly.

“Gladly,” Franco laughed. “What are a hundred men compared to the fate of all of mankind? It's less than a drop in the bucket, less than a single teardrop, compared to the entire ocean, to every drop of water in the universe. My name will live on forever. History is told by the winners, Macnamara, not the skeletons. When they talk about me in the history books they’ll say I was a visionary, a decisive leader who never let his conscience get in the way of doing what was best for all the people. You won't even be remembered as the cowardly traitor that you are. I'll personally see to it that you are snuffed out of all accounts of recorded history. It will be like you and your miserable family never existed.”

I felt a chill go through me at the delight Franco was taking at imagining our total demise. It was eerie how much pleasure he took in tormenting us, like a serial killer feeding off the fear of his victim’s last moments.

He's a monster, I thought. Never forget that. He may look human, but he's a demon that's taken human form, nothing more.

“When the time is right,” Moto said through gritted teeth. “I'm going to personally kill you.”

“Deluded to the bitter end,” Franco laughed. “Speaking of time, yours is now officially up. Take them to the hanging platform. And someone go fetch Benji. I know he'll want to be front and center for this show. I want him right by my side, so I can share in his joy at seeing these traitors get what they deserve.”

“You did something to him,” I yelled. “You messed with his head somehow. Benji would never find happiness in anyone being killed, not even someone who tried to kill him.”

Franco laughed again, and his men joined in at my expense.

“It's amazing how naïve you still are,” Franco taunted. “Benji is a man now. His eyes have been opened. All men take pleasure in seeing their enemies suffer and die. All men revel in the glory of justice served. You'll see soon enough.”

He turned, and the men parted to let him through. I tried to yell out after him, but he was gone. The doors were opened and men rushed in, beating us with sticks, punching and kicking us all over. Stars exploded behind my eyes as I took a fist to my right eye, then doubled over out of breath as someone else crammed another into my gut, winding me. After a small eternity of being beaten down, we were pulled back up. Our arms were tied in front of us. They shoved rags in our mouths to keep us quiet, and began marching us out to our impending death.

Chapter Nine

The men were cheering as we were marched out in front of them into the blinding sunlight. They cracked jokes at our expense, working each other up. Some reached out and smacked our faces as we walked forward. Others spit on us. Some kicked us in the back of our legs as we stumbled on; still others beat our lower backs with sticks to keep us moving. All the while, insults flew at us from every side. I noticed that some of the men looked like they were wearing new uniforms, and their bare arms sticking out were covered in biker tattoos.

Alphas and Unity Gang, I thought. That's how they've been slipping on and off the base. Franco has allowed John to deputize outlaws into his elite unit. He's in bed with the enemy.

By the looks of it, the sun had just risen. Blood from a head wound I'd picked up in the beating soon mixed with sweat from my anxious attempts to fight them off with tied hands, and the mixture poured down into my eyes, making them sting. I choked on dry dust as we were led over the dirt track to the lawn section where a makeshift gallows had been recently assembled.

I wonder how long they've been preparing for this moment, I thought. This must have been part of the plan since the start, to win the rest of the base over by using us as his scapegoats.

The crowd of cheering men parted to let us climb up and onto the platform. They looked like rioters. I wondered how no one else could see they were nothing but lawless bikers in bad disguises. I felt my foot take the first step up the stairs, and heard the creak of the new wood as it supported my weight. A feeling of utter dread began to descend over me.

This is really happening, I realized at last. This is how it's going to end.

I was up on the platform now, and being calmly moved into position over a trap door by one of Franco's men. I turned to see another moving Moto into position.

There has to be a way out of this. Think! You're running out of time!

The man next to me reached over my head and pulled the noose down, looping it over my neck and pulling it snugly into place. The wiry bits of rough rope scratched my throat as I started to panic, pulling in deep breaths.

I'm never going to see her again, I thought. I'm never going to see Felicity.

I heard a commotion to my right. I turned to see Moto struggling as they tried to put the rope over his neck. It was no use. The man rabbit punched him hard in the kidneys, and he bent over. The man who had put the rope over my neck helped Moto straighten up, as the other one laced the noose around my brother’s neck and pulled it so tight that Moto's face began to go slightly blue.

I can't believe this is how we're going to die, I thought. After everything we've been through, it just doesn't seem right.

All around us, the men laughed and cackled and spit insults and threw things at us – a raucous mob of motley criminals hungry for blood. The sounds of their evil merriment made my stomach churn. I was starting to shiver all over. A loud, steady clapping from in front of us caused them to settle down. I looked over to see Franco standing before us with Tank, John, and Benji, who had my katana slung over his shoulder. I tried to make out an emotion from the blank expression on his face, but it was no use. His body posture, on the other hand, completely suggested he was with Franco now. He wore the uniform of the elite squad, including the telltale black shirt and lace-up combat boots. His chest was puffed out and he walked with a cocky swagger, making him look like a miniature version of Franco.

“May I have your attention, please,” Franco shouted.

“Hang 'em high!” One man hollered. The rest laughed. Franco took out his pistol and, without hesitation, shot the man in the chest. He fell over dead and the men closest to him parted like a curtain, none wanting to be found guilty of associating with him. A terrified silence fell over the camp. The smell of gunpowder lingered in the air like a warning.

“As I was saying,” Franco continued, not the least bit concerned with murdering one of his own men. “We gather here today to see that justice is done.”

He stopped and looked around at the men who were all now fidgeting quietly, like kids trying their hardest to behave at church.

“You may applaud that,” Franco conceded. The men burst into cautious cheers. Franco put his hands up and waved them down to let the men know he wasn't done speaking. They instantly quieted again.

“This man,” he said, strolling over to point at my brother, “until a few days ago was your ranking officer on base, owing to the death of General Conrad. We now know he was responsible for the General's death, that he conspired with terrorists to plot an attack on this very base, that he covered up the theft of highly classified documents, and that he and his accomplices stole a weapon that they intended to use against anyone who dared to stand against them.”

A low chorus of boos went through the crowd. John and Tank sneered, clearly enjoying the show. Tank punched Benji in the shoulder playfully, and to my great surprise Benji laughed and nodded his head. In the place where I thought my outrage should be, I found instead a gaping hole of sadness and betrayal. My heart felt like it was breaking in my chest again. For a split second I wanted nothing more than for them to pull the handle and get it over with.

Anything has to feel better than this, I thought. At least when I'm dead I won't have to see him gloat anymore. Every time he laughs it feels like someone is stabbing me in the chest. I can't believe I once called him my little brother.

“Despite our best efforts to get them to come clean and tell us where the stolen materials are,” Franco continued theatrically, “they've refused to budge an inch. We even offered them mercy; we told them if they helped us prevent a tragic war that would cost the lives of soldiers and civilians, and leave us all open to attack by zombie fiends, that we would let them live out their days in prison. And do you know what they said? They said they'd rather die than tell us. Well guess what? Today is their lucky day. Today is when they get to pay for the error of their ways, and it’s when we get justice for those who have sinned against us. Today they will hang by their dirty necks until the light goes out of their eyes.”

A fresh chorus of cheers rent the air as Franco lifted his arm and jabbed his balled up fist to the sky to drive his point home. He was a master of working up a crowd, a fantastic talent for a man who wanted to lead a devoted cult of fanatics on a path of world domination.

“Tank,” Franco said, turning and extending his hand out toward the giant with the eye patch. “It has been decided that you shall do the honors. You may now take your position by the gallows.”

Tank look surprised at the news, and oddly anxious. He turned to John who simply smiled and nodded, then back again to Franco like there must have been some kind of mistake.

“Come on then,” Franco said. “I know you're surprised, but we still have a hanging to get on with. I can imagine how honored you feel to be selected. I'm sure there are a hundred guys right now who wish they could take your place.”

Tank stepped forward like he was going to be joining us up on the platform. Franco's evil grin widened.

“Let's have a round of applause for Tank,” he shouted, and the men drowned him out in hoots and cheers, each one bloodthirsty and eager to see us executed and our bodies left to dangle in the breeze like broken wind chimes.

“This isn't how it was supposed to go,” Tank murmured, but Franco clapped him on the shoulder.

“I know you're disappointed that you can't tear Xander apart with your bare hands, as John promised,” Franco said. “In fact, it was John who recommended we bestow the honor on you of pulling the trap door lever for that very reason. It will just have to be enough, I'm afraid. Consider it a small portion of what you deserve for being a good and loyal friend.”

John smiled as Tank shot a confused look at him.

“Go on, Cyclops,” John shouted. “You heard him.”

Something is off, I thought. Tank no longer looked happy at all, but the men around him didn't seem to notice or care. He stepped forward and put his hands on the lever that would force the small square of wood we were standing on to spring open, causing us to plummet to our deaths as the noose tightened around our necks and strangled the life out of us.

“On my word,” Franco said loud and clear. Tank just nodded.

I closed my eyes.

Forgive me Felicity, I thought. I'm so sorry, baby. I should have listened to you and stayed in Xanadu. I love you so much. And God, if you're up there listening, I need a miracle.

I opened my eyes, the anticipation causing me to involuntarily shiver all over.

“Now!”

Tank pulled the lever in slow motion. Suddenly images from my life began to flash before my eyes. I saw back to the days when my dad and I used to visit my mom in the cancer ward at the hospital. How frail and thin she'd grown. She reached out to me from her sick bed, her tiny trembling hand covered in veins by that point. She no longer had hair, but had carefully wrapped her head in a colorful scarf. She smelled like lemonade from the swabs she rubbed on the sores in her mouth. She was dying and we knew it. The doctor wanted us to say goodbye, to make peace with her passing. There were tears in her eyes as she spoke to me, answering my adolescent gibberish when I asked what I was supposed to do without her.

“Just do your best,” she said in a voice that barely rose above a whisper. “That's all you can do in this life. Take care of each other now. I'll be watching over you, I promise. I love you.”

I'd blocked out that painful image for most of my life, unable to deal with her passing. Over time I'd forgotten the details of her face as well, replacing them with a generic image in my mind, an idealized version of who she was.

“Why did mommy have to die?” I asked my father before the funeral. He was dressed in his good Sunday clothes, attempting to put on a tie, a job that used to be reserved for my mother on the rare occasions we went to church.

“So she could be your guardian angel,” he told me. “She's in Heaven now looking down on us.”

I searched the clouds as we stood by the gravesite at her funeral, looking for a sign of her. As the next few years went by I prayed to her, imagining her in flowing white robes, young and beautiful and radiating light. Those were some dark times, some tough times, and I found peace in being able to talk to her, whether she could hear me or not. Later, when Moto found us and completed our family, I stopped talking to my mom. Life moved on and took us with it. I'd forgotten all about it until I saw the lever reaching the end of the arc, signaling that our deaths were just a moment away.

Mom, I thought with all my might, if you are still up there, if you can hear me, please help us. I need you now more than ever. Please get us out of this and back safe with the ones we love.

I felt the door under my feet give way as my body went into an animal panic, erasing all traces of rational thought from my mind. It felt like electricity was shooting through my body, and I became hyper aware of everything as the adrenaline began to kick in. I could hear my heart beating, could feel it like a lump in my throat as I began to fall.

Those were the longest seconds of my life. They say when you die your life flashes before your eyes. I don't know if that's true for everyone, but it was for me. A series of images tore through my mind, showing me everything from rainy days as a child splashing in puddles on the way home from school, to the training sessions on hot summer days with Moto, and to the moment Felicity and I shared our first kiss. My mind froze on the image of her face, unable to let go or move on.

I'm sorry, baby, I thought. I'm sorry for everything. I love you.

I reached the end of the rope and it went taut. Beside me I heard a loud ripping noise that made me picture Moto's neck snapping, followed by an odd crashing thud. I had no such luck. Tank had been right. Whoever measured out the rope for my hanging didn't do it right. I dangled helplessly by the throat as the life was squeezed out of me, my face turning colors.

I heard people around me booing, loud voices calling out to finish me off. The crowd of Franco's followers, mostly bikers in disguise, began hurling rocks and cans at me.

“You did this,” Franco hissed at Tank. “Didn't you? You were so caught up in your childish scheme of revenge that you couldn't stand to see them die so easily! You couldn't stand the thought of not being able to rip his body to pieces like you'd been planning since John first captured him in Ojai.”

There was a chorus of murmurs now passing between the enlisted men, many of whom began backing away.

“What are you talking about?!” Tank yelled in frustration.

I could hear ringing in my ears as I kicked helplessly, praying the pain would stop.

“You snuck out here and messed with the rope,” Franco said, growing louder and angrier. “Admit it!”

“I'm not taking any more of this from you or anyone else,” Tank said, turning and squaring off with Franco. “I've had enough.”

Franco kicked Tank's legs out from underneath him without hesitation, leaving the giant sprawled out flat on his back. He withdrew his gun from his holster and pointed it at Tank's massive chest. Tank held up his hands, his single, remaining eye wide with shock at how quickly the tables had turned.

“Wait,” Tank begged. “I made a mistake. Please.”

“There's no room in my army for soldiers who can't follow orders,” Franco replied. “Enjoy your one-way trip back to oblivion, freak.”

Any minute now I'll be dead, I thought, the pain in my throat driving me mad. Please let it happen soon. Please don't let me suffer anymore.

With lightning speed Benji raced onto the platform, drawing my katana from his back and slicing through my hanging rope. My vision was starting to fade to black. My head began to swim as I lost consciousness. I heard the sound of the gun going off over and over as I fell. My feet hit the earth beneath the platform, but didn't find purchase. I crumpled like a sack of moldy potatoes. Benji plunged through the trap door after me. He sliced the noose and pulled the wiry twine from around my neck. I gasped down air like a thirsty man gulping down water. I saw stars as I tried to sit up. Benji pushed me back into the dirt.

“Stay down,” he cautioned, doing his best to cover me. “It's about to get ugly.”

Benji pulled a hidden lever on the underside of the platform and a steel plate swung forward, locking into place in front of us and blocking off Franco and his men. Before they had time to react, the sound of gunfire rang out all around us. I turned my head to see Moto had already managed to work his hands free and was doing his best to remove his noose.  Loud screams from in front of me drew my attention away. I looked out from under the gallows platform to see total chaos unfolding right before my eyes. Soldiers in full fatigues were fighting with Franco's men. I could see Tank's lifeless body splayed not ten feet from me. Franco and John were nowhere in sight.

“What's happening?” I wheezed in bewilderment.

“We're rescuing you,” Benji explained. “You didn't really think I'd turned on you, did ya?”

He cut the ropes around my hands, then gave me back my katana.

“You were pretty convincing,” I gasped, still not sure I believed he was really with us again.

“I had to be,” Benji affirmed. “Franco began recruiting men the first week he came on the base. That's when Moto approached me with his plan. He said that if I could convince them that I was jealous of your promotion, of you having your brother in charge, then I could make them believe I'd gone bad. He was right.”

“You knew about this?” I asked, turning to face my brother, who was now smiling.

“I ordered it,” he said. “I told you I had a man on the inside.”

“So was getting hung and almost dying part of your plan?”

“Not exactly,” Moto shrugged.

“I was just supposed to get information about what Franco was planning,” Benji explained. “But, as you can see, things escalated quickly.”

“So you're not part of Franco's elite squad?”

“Hell no! I tried to give you a clue. I thought when I made up the story of you stealing comic books from me you'd figure that out.”

“So that's why you said that,” I realized at last. “I thought you'd either lost your mind or Franco had brainwashed you into joining his team.”

“Actually, I'm the leader of the resistance,” Benji said proudly. “We're called Loyalists.”

“What on Earth does that mean?”

“It's just a funny name we came up with as a joke,” Benji laughed. “I'm in charge of a unit of soldiers specially vetted by your brother to counteract anything Franco might come up with.”

“You mean like a military coup?”

“Exactly,” Moto said.

“Franco’s decision to follow through with the hanging threw me for a loop,” Benji admitted. “I spent all night coordinating this rescue. We weren't planning on exposing ourselves so soon. We didn’t wanna lose the element of surprise. Then again, I couldn't just let them kill my two best friends. How would I explain that to Felicity and Sonya?”

“What if the fall had broken my neck?”

“We took measures to make sure that wouldn't happen,” Benji assured me. “My guys were the ones who set up the gallows in the first place. Once construction was complete, they added the metal shield as well as a side exit to give us a running start out to the front gate. Both ropes were intentionally cut so they'd snap, and you'd fall through to safety. I also had one of my men all set to pull the lever, but Franco switched that at the last minute. I was supposed to get a signal, then leap forward and cut you loose once you were safely under the structure. I wasn't expecting Tank to mess with your rope. He must have switched it out this morning, shortening the length so you'd just dangle helplessly while he watched.”

“So he was right about Tank?” I asked. “And John just let him do it.”

All that talk about how I'd killed his friend, I thought, and John didn't seem the least bit concerned that Franco had snuffed Tank out. I thought about the look on Tank's face when he was told he would be doing the honors. He looked horrified, as if he knew it would mean his own death instead.

“Beats me,” Benji said. “Probably some internal power struggle.”

“Guys like John and Franco don't have any real loyalties,” Moto explained. “In the end, they'll always put what's best for them over everyone else. That's why we can't let them get away with hijacking the military and using it as their personal army to conquer the world. That's why we're in this fight.”

“Well then,” I said, feeling the powerful urge to join the fray as the battle raged around us. “What are we waiting for? Let's get to work!”

“I've got you a lift off base,” Benji said, throwing open the side door.

“I'm not leaving,” I argued. “No way. I'm ready to fight to the death.”

“I need you to get Apache and the others,” Moto commanded. “You're the only one who knows how to get into Xanadu. We're going to need that antidote now more than ever. I'm counting on you to make sure it gets here.”

“No way,” I said, shaking my head. “I'm not leaving in the middle of a battle! It's out of the question!”

“I'm not asking you anymore,” Moto growled. “As your commanding officer, I am giving you a direct order. Do you understand that, soldier?”

I glared at him, unwilling to answer.

He's just being overly protective, I thought. He's trying to keep me out of harm’s way, but this is my fight just as much as it is his. Why can't he see that?

“No time to argue, gentlemen,” Benji advised, cutting the silence. “We've got Blackshirts inbound so it looks like we're all going for a quick ride. That'd be them now.”

I heard the Jeep before I saw it. It came crashing through a crowd of angry bikers, carelessly knocking them aside like a bowling ball hitting pins. At the wheel a smiling soldier greeted us with a salute.

“Private Gary Mathers at your service,” he barked.

“It's about time,” Benji said, crawling out from under the gallows and over the side of the vehicle. He motioned for us to follow. “Any day now gentlemen, if you please.”

I looked back at Moto.

“Age before beauty,” I teased, and he laughed in reply. We scrambled into the back of the Jeep.

“Stick to the plan,” Benji said.

“Yes sir,” Gary replied without hesitation. He revved the engine and took off, heading along the perimeter wall of the base.

“We'll double back and rendezvous with our Alpha team once we've gotten him to the extraction point in one piece.”

Benji sure is growing up fast, I thought. He's come a long way from the scared little kid I had to save a hundred times from New Lompoc to Ojai.

“How are we going to get out?” I asked. “The front gate is the only way in or out, and Franco's got to have it locked down at this point.”

Looking forward confirmed my suspicions. I could see a wall of Blackshirts armed to the teeth up ahead, locked and loaded and ready to take us out before they'd let us off base alive. I swallowed the lump of anxiety forming in my already sore throat. After surviving being hung, I wasn't keen on being cut down in a hail of bullets.

“Don't worry, bro,” Benji said, pulling a remote from the center console. “We've got that covered too.”

“What are you going to do?”

Several bullets whizzed past us, one hitting the dashboard, another cracking the windshield.

“Watch your heads,” Moto warned, ducking down. “We've got incoming!”

I didn't have to be told twice. I glanced back as I crouched down, looking for the source of the deadly projectiles. The entire base was now in a state of open warfare. To my left I saw a cluster of Blackshirts taking cover, trying to avoid being shot, while enlisted soldiers lead by Benji's men, the Loyalists in gray camouflage, flanked in from the left, using them for target practice. On my right it was the exact opposite. Blackshirts terrorized recruits, chasing down the men that ran and shooting them in the back, even firing on men attempting to surrender. In the heart of it all were Franco and John, still standing next to the gallows where we'd left them. Both men were facing our direction, arms extended with handguns trained at us. John let off another shot, closing one eye and licking his lips as he aimed. It went past in a blur, sinking into the back of the driver's seat and piercing through Gary, who gave out a loud yelp. I saw John smile before turning to see Gary slouching over the wheel in shock. There was a fine mist of bright red blood on the cracked windshield. I could hear Gary panting, like he was gasping for breath, as the Jeep began to slow.

“Sounds like they got him in the lung,” Benji said. “Gary, you okay man? Gary?”

Benji began to shake the driver, but got only a sad moan in reply. A volley of fresh gunfire exploded directly in front of us as the Blackshirts peppered the front of the Jeep.

“We're in range,” Moto shouted. “Do it now, Benji!”

Benji hit the button on his remote. A booming explosion ripped through the air as the wooden guard station at the entrance to the base disintegrated into a tornado of splinters and concrete, sending the Blackshirts directly in front of it flying, their weapons blown out of their surprised hands. A bright orange fireball shot out of where the roof of the guard station had been mere seconds before, followed by an ominous dark mushroom cloud the color of a pirate flag.

“Got 'em!” Moto cheered. Benji leaned over Gary and fidgeted with the latch until the front seat dropped back. Moto helped pull Gary into the back with us. He was white as a sheet, wheezing for air. Blood poured from a single point in his midsection, wetting his uniform. Benji quickly climbed into the driver's seat and pulled it back upright. Grabbing the wheel with both hands he accelerated hard, making the Jeep lurch forward into the maelstrom of death and chaos directly in front of us.

“Hang on everyone,” Benji cried out after the fact.

I looked back to see Franco barking orders at John, his face twisted in rage now. John visibly shook as he agreed with what he was being told. Franco pointed his gun threateningly at John before abruptly turning and marching back to the lab. John began to jog after us, a sick look on his face.

I felt the tires of the Jeep rise up as we ran over the first of the Blackshirts still lying in our path, disoriented from the unexpected blast. A cloud of particles from the explosion lingered in the air obscuring our view. Benji did his best to navigate around the stunned-looking Blackshirts as he raced past the remains of the burning guard station and headed off the base. A thick wall of black smoke trailed out in front of us, caught in a current of onshore wind that swept through the base. Moto and I both began to cough violently as we inhaled the dark air, before covering our faces with our arms. My eyes stung and tears leaked out as the toxic smoke wrapped around my face like a heavy bag. I put my head down between my legs, hoping to get a breath of clean air from near the floorboards, while wiping furiously at my eyes to clear them. As I did, I felt the Jeep begin to slow to a crawl, and the engine died down as if it had been shut off completely. That's when I noticed the sound, a loud rumbling echoing in the distance.

“What's going on?” I asked, coming back up when I didn't get an immediate answer. My vision was blurry, the bright sunlight only making it worse. At last my pupils adjusted, revealing the reason Benji had slowed us to a crawl. Hundreds of bikers fanned out in front of us, Alphas and Unity Gang and Warriors combined into one terrifying assembly, armed and ready to shred us into unrecognizable little pieces.

“This doesn't look good,” I said, stating the obvious. “You got a second backup plan?”

“Not exactly,” Benji said. “I wasn't expecting this.”

“What should I do?” He turned back and stared at Moto, looking for direction.

“There's nothing we can do,” Moto said, looking frustrated. “We can't outrun their bikes, and if we try to drive through them we'll be turned into Swiss cheese.”

“What if we put it in reverse?” I suggested, feeling anew the panic rise up inside of me. I knew if Franco got his hands on us again we'd be lucky to just be hung or shot. More than likely he'd use us to quell the rebellion against him, then torture us all during his cruel experiments. After what I'd seen him do to Haki, I was scared stiff for Benji.

“I don't think that option is available to us any longer,” Moto sighed. I whipped my head around to see John leading a pack of angry Blackshirts in our direction. Many of them had dirt covering their arms and faces, with blood oozing from fresh cuts and scrapes. We definitely weren't going to get any kind of compassion from a troop of armed men we'd just ambushed.

“There has to be a way,” I shouted, waving my arms in near hysteria. “We can't just let them take us again! You know what they will do.”

“What other choice do we have?” Moto asked. “We still have value in staying alive for the moment. John will want to hand us over to Franco to regain favor with him, especially after what just happened with Tank.”

“I'll die before I let that happen,” Benji said. “I'd rather go down fighting, than give him the satisfaction of killing me – or worse.”

“Agreed,” Moto said without hesitation. “It's going to be all about finding the right moment to make a last stand.”

“What if that moment doesn't come?” I asked.

“It will,” Moto assured me. “Remember, these men aren't trained warriors. Most of them are common thugs, street hoods, and hooligans. They may look like a huge force united against us, but the one thing they all have in common is their distaste for rules and authority. When the going gets rough they always revert back to every man for himself. You'll see.”

“Let's just hope John can keep them from doing something stupid until our big moment happens,” I said, anxiously looking from face to dirty face. They looked eager for mayhem, wild and unruly and ready to do damage.

“Amen,” Moto agreed. “In the meantime don't give them an excuse. We want them to think we're defeated, ready to cooperate. It's the only way we'll get a chance at all.”

“Got it,” Benji said at once, nodding his head. I nodded as well.

“Good,” Moto said. “Now hands up. Here they come.”

John was now at the driver's side door, opening it and pulling Benji out. He kept his hands up in surrender. Blackshirts swarmed around the vehicle with automatic weapons trained on Moto and me. Acidic panic washed over me in waves as I waited for them to begin firing at us.

“On your knees,” John said, ordering Benji to a spot in front of him. “And the rest of you join him at once or die.”

Moto gave me a dark look, reminding me to mind my tongue, before complying. I followed him out of the Jeep, hands up. We both knelt in front of John who looked too frazzled to even enjoy his moment of victory.

“Good,” John said, sounding tired. “Now stay there and don't move. If you so much as scratch an itch my men will fill you with more lead than a pencil.”

He turned and walked toward the sound of the roaring motors, his Blackshirts leaning in attentively with their weapons as he left, waiting for a reason to slaughter us. The wall of bikers parted like a curtain and out walked a tall woman in fine clothing, her face covered by a stylish hat. There was something familiar about her that sent chills up my spine. She reached up and removed her hat, erasing any doubt I might have had about who she was. It was the Head Mistress of Hellfire. John took her in his arms and they kissed like lovers who'd been separated too long. They turned and he held her hand as they walked back over to us.

“So,” she said with a smirk, leveling her gaze at me. “We meet again, young Xander. It's been a long and difficult hunt you've led us on, but it's ended as predictably as I promised, with you and your friends on your knees, once more my captive. No one ever gets away from me. You could have saved us all a lot of trouble if you'd just understood that from the start.”

“Who are you?” Benji asked, looking up at her in amazement.

“You need to learn some manners,” she spat angrily, turning her attention to him. “I wasn't speaking to you, was I?”

John reached out and put his hand on her arm and she calmed instantly, a gentle smile returning to her face.

“I suppose it's your fault,” she said cloyingly to John. “For not properly introducing me.”

“Listen up, dirt bags,” John said, beaming with pride. “This is my wife, Desdemona.”

Chapter Ten

“You're the one who killed Airi,” I said coldly. “Don't try to deny it. I saw her body, or what was left of it, back at the circus.”

“She disobeyed me,” Desdemona said plainly. “She understood the consequences of her decision. She was to keep watch over you, and let me know right away if anything out of the ordinary happened.”

“That's what she did,” I protested.

“After you were gone, she admitted that she'd taken the gag from your mouth and spoken to you,” Desdemona explained. “I knew right then and there I could no longer trust her, that she had grown emotionally unstable, and that she was of a lesser mettle than I desired at Hellfire.”

“So she wasn't good enough to be your slave and entertain these savages because she had a single moment of sympathy?” I could feel Moto burning a hole in the side of my face with the look he was giving me, but I didn't care. The girl had done nothing wrong, other than having the unfortunate duty of guarding me, and it had cost her her life.

“Despite appearances to the contrary, my clients prefer girls of the highest caliber,” Desdemona responded patiently, as if she were explaining big business to a small child. “The ones I select to represent me at Hellfire are handpicked for their personal charms, their discretion, and their loyalty. After all, they are a reflection of me, the Head Mistress in charge of providing luxury companionship. Hellfire is my church and the lucky courtesans within that holy sanctuary are like different religions, all leading to a greater experience of the divine, all tongues speaking forgotten truths of bliss. I have no use for girls with bleeding hearts who can't follow orders at my house of worship – only goddesses.”

“But it wasn't her fault! Can't you see that?”

“What I saw was a skittish young girl looking for a way out,” Desdemona cruelly laughed. “So I gave it to her. I brought purpose and meaning to her life for one shining moment. Believe it or not, she was never very popular at Hellfire. She was too withdrawn, too innocent and meek for their tastes. The night I set her free under the big top she was a crowd favorite from start to finish. Her death was cheered by over a hundred screaming fans. She lasted much longer than they usually do, earning herself great glory as she died. I was surprised by how proud she made me in the end. I didn't think she had it in her.”

“What are you planning on doing with us?” Moto asked as I fell silent, taking in the horror of Desdemona's words.

“We're gonna keep you safe and sound for now,” John said. “Don't you worry about that. You're our new insurance policy on account of Franco saying he's got something extra special planned for you because of all the trouble you've gone and caused. I'm not sure what it is, but I can imagine it won't be nearly as clean and painless a death as hanging is supposed to be.”

“And just how long do you think that will buy you with him?” Moto asked, turning to stare up at John from his knees.

“Why, whatever do you mean, soldier?”

“Don't play dumb, John,” Moto said sharply. “I've seen the way Franco talks to you in front of everyone, including your own men. He's got no respect for you at all. You're not partners. You're his lap dog, sent to do his errands. Look at how quickly he turned on your good pal, Tank. It was like he was just waiting for an excuse to get rid of him. How long before he does the same to you when you're least expecting it?”

“He won't,” John said a little too quickly, but it was clear he was worried about that exact thing. Moto was working his nerves, and it was starting to show.

“What makes you think you're different?”

“Not that I need to explain myself to you,” John sneered, growing more impatient at the perceived need to defend himself. “But just for your information, there were a lot of incidents with Tank since I brought him back, any one of which would be cause for concern. Let's just say that Tank didn't have the type of personality that lends itself to politics. He didn't understand how things worked. The man could no longer see the big picture. All he cared about was getting revenge. No, what happened to Tank, while unfortunate, was sadly inevitable. I understand that now. If anything, Franco showed great restraint.”

“You sure you're not just saying that because you're surrounded by his armed guards right now?” Moto taunted. “Because you sound like you're trying to convince yourself just as much as me.”

“For a guy who's got one foot in the grave, you sure love to run your mouth off, don't you?” John said, turning and winking at his wretched wife. Desdemona let out a false high laugh that made my nerves stand on edge. A murmur of forced chuckles rippled through the men as well.

“I'm willing to make you a deal,” Moto continued, undaunted.

“Now this I've got to hear,” John crowed.

“Lay down your weapons and go, and I won't hunt you down and kill you when this is all over,” Moto said in a slow clear voice. For a moment I couldn't believe my ears. Apparently neither could John. He shook his head from side to side like a dog trying to get water out of its ears. Desdemona's face pulled back into a wide smile as she leered unblinking at my brother. It was far scarier than any other face I'd seen her make.

“Come again?” John said at last. “I don't believe I heard you correctly.”

Laughter rang out all around us, from the Blackshirts to the bikers. In fact, it seemed like we were the only ones not amused.

“I'm going to speak as plainly as I can so you don't misunderstand me,” Moto said, unfazed by the jeering all around him. “You're a coward. Always have been and always will be. You fancy yourself a great leader, but you're just a guy who likes to look like the big shot for making all the calls. When it actually comes down to getting your hands dirty, you get someone else to do it. It's why you had Tank around, and it's why you worked so hard trying to turn my little brother to your side.”

“Go on,” John laughed. “I can't wait to hear where this is going. I had no idea you were a comedian, but this is some good material.”

Moto waited for the laughter to die down before continuing.

“You haven't thought this all through, but I have,” Moto explained. “Soon reinforcements will come, the closest from Edwards, sure, but as I explained they'll want to make an example out of Franco. When they get here they'll burn him to the ground, and anyone who stands by his side. Think about that. They'll surround you from land and sea and push in until every last member of the coup is dead, including you and your wife. If you leave now and head back north you'll have a chance of escaping. I'll even put in a word with the new general about how you cooperated and switched sides at the end. Who knows? If you keep running you might be able to get so far away they'll never find you, all the way up into Canada. I hear up there they take any refugees willing to submit to clean tests and work the land.”

“Let me just get this straight,” John teased. “You want me to put down my weapons and just run away to live on a kibbutz in Canada? Is that what you're seriously suggesting? That's too funny for words.”

“It beats living in Franco's shadow,” Moto fired back. “Waiting for him to decide you're no longer any use to him alive. You've seen the type of man he really is today. Does he strike you as the kind of man who actually keeps his promises? Or even remembers making them?”

“I'll take my chances,” John sneered. “Oh and in case you haven't noticed, you're the one on your knees now, defeated and begging for your life. Not me! You think you're better than the rest of us, better than everyone else because you fight for the weak and protect the innocent, but that's all just a lie you tell yourself to feel superior over everyone. The truth is, you're just a slave. You do what men more powerful than you order you to do, and you call it justice, constrained by your own false sense of morality in a world gone mad. You're weak and weakness has no real place in this world anymore, not since Z Day.  It's men like me, men like Franco, men who don't let morals get in the way of doing what needs to be done for the greater good of all, who will shape the future.”

“Just remember that I gave you a chance,” Moto said, sounding like a district attorney trying to cut a plea bargain with a petty criminal in an old television crime drama. “When you see the first rows of the Unified Armed Forces marching in unison toward you, leading thousands on to corner and kill you like a rat, remember I gave you a way out, fair and square, a chance to save you and your wife, and you threw it away.”

“You know what?” John leaned over and put his face right in front of Moto. “You're every bit as annoying as your little brother. I can see where he gets it from now.”

“Thanks,” I smirked.

“I think it's time we gave them a demonstration, my love,” Desdemona sang sweetly. “Perhaps a front row seat to the big show will give them a taste of just how we plan on dealing with anyone who tries to get in our way.”

“I couldn't agree more,” John said. “Bring over the cage!”

There was a loud beeping sound as a huge flatbed tow truck came past the first row of bikers, backing up toward us. John put his fingers in his mouth and let out a loud whistle, signaling the driver to stop. The cage rattled as the truck came to a halt.

“You two,” John said, pointing to a couple of greasy-looking Blackshirts with visible tattoos on their necks and hands. “Help us up.”

They look like John’s followers from New Lompoc, I thought, only he’s disguised them to look like Franco’s treasonous recruits so they’d blend in here. But why?

The two soldiers helped John and Desdemona up and onto the platform. John swung the cage door open and Desdemona walked in.

“Bring them up now,” John ordered.

Without pause, several Blackshirts pulled us to our feet and shoved us to the back of the tow truck. John’s men were already on the back of the truck, hands reaching down to help us up. The guy who grabbed my hand had a swastika visible on the webbed skin of his right hand between his thumb and forefinger. I stared at it in shock, all doubt erased from my mind that he was from New Lompoc. I opened my mouth to say something, but he silenced me with a wink – shoving me hard and forward into the cage, then following me. Benji and Moto were escorted into the cage by the other impostor soldier, with John following close behind. John pulled on the gate of the massive cage and shut it behind him. It clanged shut with a scary finality. Reaching through the bars, John clicked the heavy metal padlock together, and removed the key. He unfastened a silver chain from his neck, looped it through the hole in the key, then tucked it back into his shirt for safekeeping.

Why is he locking himself in with us? I wondered. What's going on?

“Take their weapons and search them,” John commanded. His men moved quickly between us, patting us down and taking away my katana. They discovered a knife Benji had slipped into his boot and took that as well, handing it to John. He turned it over in his fingers, examining the blade as it sparkled in the sun.

“Is everything in place?” John asked Desdemona.

“Do you really need to ask me, of all people?” she replied, cocking her head to the side.

“No, I don't,” John admitted. “It's just one of the things I love most about you.”

“Whatever you have to show us,” Moto said, “it won't change anything.”

“That's where you're wrong,” John said. “It's going to change everything in a way you can't imagine. Hope you like surprises, because this is a good one.”

Desdemona threw her head back and let out a high-pitched cackle, reminding me of an evil witch working on a potion over a boiling cauldron.

“Release the dead,” John yelled at the top of his lungs. The other bikers around him parroted it back to him, revving their engines and roaring around the remaining Blackshirts in menacing loops. The small cluster of Franco's soldiers pulled together, guns swinging wildly back and forth between different bikers, each waiting for the other to start shooting.

“What are you doing?” Moto questioned him in surprise.

“Isn't it obvious?” John asked with a big smile.

“You're double crossing Franco,” I said, my mouth falling open in shock.

Amidst the chaos, I heard a chorus of low moaning drawing near. Almost immediately after that I caught the scent of putrid, rotting flesh.

“You can't just unleash an army of zombies on the base,” Moto said. “They'll kill everyone, including your men!”

“All my men are safe here with me, or back behind the roaring engines,” John laughed. “Who do you think is driving these biters forward?”

“What about the guys outside this cage on bikes?” I asked. “What if they go down and get bitten?”

“Then I'll have them turned back,” John said. “Look, kid, the first thing I'm going to do once the base falls is round up all the new recruits to my zombie army and inspect them top to bottom. I'm going to want to pick the best ones to give the new serum to and place on the front lines when reinforcements come, right? If any of my guys are among them, I'll simply give them the antidote and bring 'em back, providing they’re not more trouble than they're worth.”

“Even the ones that aren't white?” I asked accusingly.

“We'll do our best to save all that we can,” John said unconvincingly. “After all, this is war and we've only got limited supplies. We've got to prioritize.”

“I don't suppose you've explained that to any of your new biker friends,” Moto shot back.

“Now that you mention it, that might have slipped my mind,” John said with a cheesy wink. “Let's just call it our little secret.”

The first wave of the dead began to pass the tow truck, the stench of them making my nose twitch. I'd forgotten just how overwhelming it was when a full horde was gathered together. The bikers pulled away from the cluster of hunkered down Blackshirts, tearing off just in time to beat the monsters bearing down on them. The Blackshirts didn't have time to turn and run. They began firing into the oncoming wave of corpses, but their bullets made no difference.

“Don't look away,” John called out to us. “This is the good part.”

I couldn't look away if I wanted. My eyes were locked with the terrified soldiers as the zombies washed over them like a rogue wave, biting into arms and legs and faces with impunity. Screams rent the air as the men were torn to pieces by the hungry demons. Almost immediately after the onslaught, a rolling cry of angry moans rippled behind us and off into the distance. It scared me how long it went on.

There must be thousands of undead, I thought. How are they controlling these monsters?

But the truth was obvious. They weren't anymore. They were simply unleashing the beasts and letting chaos rule. For a moment, I wondered if John even had a plan to put everything back together again if things turned out as he envisioned.

The cries died down and soon all we heard were the groans of zombies as they moved past us, heading out to the sounds of fighting and gunfire on the base in the distance. Despite the fact that they were traitors who wanted to kill us just moments before, I found myself feeling sorry for the men who had just died. I couldn't help it. There were so many hungry zombies biting them, pulling apart their carcasses and devouring the hot meat in greedy mouthfuls, that it was clear there would be nothing left to bring back once the horde moved on. My stomach churned as I looked away from their mangled corpses, now barely distinguishable from a pile of bloody black rags.

“You never planned on working with Franco did you?” Moto asked at last. “Everything you told my brother back in Ojai, everything you've said since, was all a ruse. You've been waiting for this moment to arrive so you could betray Franco and take over.”

“Well now, I wouldn't say that exactly,” John protested with a shrug of his shoulders. “In the beginning I liked a lot of what Franco had to offer. But as you saw, things kinda deteriorated between us as time went on. I didn't care much for the way the power went to his head, or for the way he spoke to me. You were right about that. It was pretty obvious he didn't plan on holding up his end of the bargain anymore. As your brother will attest, I can't stand people who give their word and then go back on it. It's a personal pet peeve of mine. Drives me nuts. ”

“Which gives you the right to break your word,” I sneered.

“Exactly,” John nodded, not getting my jab. “This way works better for me anyway. I never was one for rules and regulations and all that military nonsense. Up at the crack of dawn, doing more than most folks do all week before six a.m., all of that. It's unnatural.”

“Whatever you've got to tell yourself to justify what you've done,” Benji said in a low voice, “you're still a murderer. Plain and simple. You might not see it, but everyone else does.”

“I never really did buy your whole Benedict Arnold routine, you know,” John chuckled. “Franco sure did though. Man oh man. It was just what he needed to hear at the time too.”

“What's your point?” Benji spat.

“My point is that it's all relative to the situation at hand. You needed Franco to trust you so you could betray him, but you don't see what you did as wrong because you've got this blinding sense of righteousness. In reality, it's not all that different from what I'm doing now. Hell, at least I tried to give him a chance. You on the other hand, went in knowing full well your intentions were rotten, smiling to his face and being his whipping boy. So excuse me if I don't feel all that bad being called names by a pimply faced kid who doesn't know his elbow from his…”

“How does this end?” Moto interrupted, turning John’s attention back to him.

“Once Franco is out of the way, we'll control the most powerful army known to mankind, along with the most powerful biological weapon. After that, anyone who gets in our way or tries to stop us will become food for my loyal troops.”

“You're crazy if you think you can control them long enough to take over the world,” Moto said. “The bigger they get, the stronger their hive mentality becomes. Eventually, they'll just turn on you and your men.”

“He's right,” I joined in. “I've seen it before. They work together to knock down walls and buildings to get at living people. You won't be able to shut them off.”

“Who says I want to see it end?” John laughed. Desdemona joined in.

“What good are they if you can't make them stop?” Moto demanded. “There will be no one left to rule over.”

“World domination is Franco's dream,” John explained. “Not mine. My wife and I had something different in mind. We're happy just putting a barrier between us and the rest of the country for the foreseeable future...or what's left of it anyway.”

“Everybody wants to live in California,” Desdemona laughed. “That's always been the case. It will be even more appealing once word gets out about our new attractions.”

“Hellfire and the Circus of Pain are just the start,” John continued. “We eventually plan on opening a network of similar spots up and down the coast from San Diego to San Francisco.”

“You're setting up franchises?” I asked, feeling confused.

“Franchises,” John chuckled. “I like that. That's funny. After we take out the powers that be we plan on establishing clean communities, similar to New Lompoc, where people of breeding and culture can congregate without fear of being attacked by zoms, or assaulted by lawless gangs. They can set up anywhere else they want, take over any piece of land that suits them and turn it into the world’s biggest biker bar. I could not care less, as long as they keep away from suburbia.”

“Doesn't seem fair,” Moto said, playing devil's advocate all of a sudden. “Your biker pals put their butts on the line for you, but they don't get to live in your shiny white paradise?”

“Oh, they'll be taken care of all right,” John smirked. “Don't you worry about that.”

“That's where I come in,” Desdemona added with a cocky sneer. “I've found I have a real knack for keeping the troops entertained, so to speak.”

“It's a perfect balance,” John said with a self-satisfied smile. “Those who crave order and stability get it. Those who crave lawlessness and chaos will have their fun as well.”

“As long as they don't piss off you or your wife,” Benji added, looking disgusted. “At which point they get fed to zombies, killed for sport, eaten by cannibals, or worse, made into slaves at one of her new churches.”

“You catch on real quick,” John responded. “You've come a long way from your idle days of video games and comic books. Looks like we're just about ready for the next part of the plan.”

John let out a loud whistle and the tow truck driver revved his engine, sticking his thumb out the window to let us know he was ready. I felt my stomach lurch as we began to move, the bars of the cage we were in slightly vibrating. For a moment I thought we were heading away from the fighting, but the driver brought us around in a wide loop through the patches of stragglers still ambling our way sporting torn limbs and gruesome wounds. The ones closest to us reached their gray hands toward the cage, but were unable to even touch the bars because we were up so high. This was obviously John's intention to keep us all away from the swarms of biting corpses, but it also meant that if anything went wrong we'd be trapped. We'd be surrounded on all sides by angry zombies all trying to break in and tear us apart, while we waited for help to arrive and set us free again.

Seems like a flaw in his plan, I thought. It didn't surprise me though. Above all, John was arrogant. He rarely thought things through because he knew if something went wrong, he'd find a way to make someone else pay for it instead of him. It had been his one constant characteristic, unchanged since I'd first had the misfortune of crossing his path.

I thought about the night Benji and I left New Lompoc, how John had abandoned his own men to save himself, how he'd later blamed Tank's death on me when it was really John who'd left his friend behind.

One thing’s for sure, I thought. John can't run anymore, not while he's locked in this cage with us. Whatever happens now happens to all of us.

Most of the horde was now already on base, working their way into the fighting between Franco's men and our resistance. We wheeled around and the truck picked up speed, knocking over zombies that wandered blindly into its path and crushing them under the large vehicle’s tires.

“Don't worry,” John said, as the motion of crushing a dead man's head sent us flying off our feet. “The cage is chained down. It's not going anywhere.”

All around us I could see evidence of the battle raging on in our absence. Blackshirts climbed on top of anything they could, alternating between taking shots at Loyalists in standard camo, and relentless zombies intent on making a meal out of them. There was even a guy who had climbed up a tree, thinking he was safe in the perch. He had a sniper rifle and was working on taking out a dozen or so of Benji's fighters who'd taken over the PX building. The fighters had managed to keep the biters out momentarily by blocking up the front with some two-by-fours and plywood. The Blackshirt sniper waited patiently for the fighters to stick their heads above the mess of lumber that had been haphazardly piled together until it resembled a drunken beaver’s shoddy handiwork more than a shelter from the maelstrom of hot lead raining down all around them. He picked them off one by one, with diabolical precision, a cruel grin twisting the side of his face as he knocked them down like tin silhouettes of ducks at a carnival shooting gallery. He snapped the bolt of his rifle back between deadly shots, reloading and taking aim anew. In his single-mindedness he'd ignored the growing number of zombies around the base of his tree. By the time he'd realized his mistake, it was too late. Working together as I'd seen them do in Vandenberg, the zombies used the weight of their bodies to uproot the massive oak, sending the startled sniper sailing down to the ground. They were on him in seconds, the sound of his astonished cries causing me to inwardly wince in sympathy. I turned and looked away as I saw one of his legs pulled free and held up like a drumstick to be shared between two very hungry former humans.

“Why are we heading back on base anyway?” Benji asked.

“I'll tell you why,” John haughtily replied. “The last thing Franco said to me was to find you and bring you to him. He said he was headed to the lab to get Haki. He was sure after the resistance fighters saw his super zombie doing whatever he ordered, they'd fall in line quick.”

“But you don't work for Franco anymore,” I stoically reminded him.

“I never did,” John spat, visibly trying to control his anger at the idea.

“It's all right, lover,” Desdemona cooed, but John shook his head.

“That creep treated me like garbage,” John snorted, practically foaming at the mouth. “He killed my friend right in front of me, then sent me to run errands for him like I was his punk. He thought he was better than me, but I'm gonna show him he's not. That's why I'm planning on personally feeding him to my army.”

“Why not just wait until the carnage is over, then send your handlers in to clean up before tracking down Franco? It's not like he's going to escape, not while this madness is going on.”

“I'll be damned if someone else gets to kill him first,” John raved. “I wanna see the look on his face when they start tearing into his skin and he knows that it's all over. I wouldn't miss that for anything in the world.”

The truck came to a stop near the side entrance to the labs. There were several zombies roaming about, moving forward to the sounds of yelling and gunfire we'd just passed through. I saw a few go through the open door that led to the cells we'd been in just hours earlier and vanish out of sight, swallowed up in the shadows. Going that way right now meant fighting through monsters to get to Franco. The odds of being killed were greater than the odds of ever seeing the coup leader’s face again, and that didn't account for what might happen if Franco unleashed Haki on us.

John took the key from around his neck, and began to feed it into the lock on the outside of the cage. I felt my stomach twist up in a ball of nerves as I realized he was planning on going through with what was surely a suicide mission, propelled solely by his wounded pride and blinded by a need for vengeance.

“Get ready to go when I tell you,” John ordered.

“Why not lock us in and leave us here?” I appealed, hoping to trick him into keeping us out of harm’s way.

Who knows, I thought. Some of our own guys might find us and break us loose.

“No can do,” John said. “You're my insurance policy. I want you in my sights at all times, amigos.”

“Insurance policy?” Benji looked confused. “But you said yourself that Franco is gonna know you betrayed him. What does it matter if you deliver us to him or not?”

“I don't need help dealing with Franco,” John laughed.

“He means when the rest of our armed forces show up,” Moto informed Benji, “which could be any minute now, for your information. He thinks if he keeps us near him and something does go wrong, he can use us as bartering chips to save his own skin.”

“That's right, cowboy,” John boasted. “They'll have to let us pass, otherwise I'll start killing hostages. The last thing they want is a group of their highest-ranking officers being butchered while the rest of the troops watch, and all because they weren't willing to negotiate.”

“They're not going to make a deal with you,” I objected. “That's not how things work!”

“You better hope that's exactly what they do, squirt,” John taunted. “Otherwise, the last thing you'll see in this world is the tremendous satisfaction on my face as I put your lights out for good.”

“It's not going to come to that,” Desdemona said gravely. “Because as soon as we take Franco out, we're going to be able to create a new battalion of supermen who feel no pain and only respond to us. Your armed forces won't be able to defeat us any longer. Your generals will be forced to lay down their arms and surrender, or be slaughtered and conscripted to eternal hunger and warfare.”

“That's pure poetry, baby,” John exhaled as he gazed at his insane wife. “Now if you'd all be so kind as to follow me.”

John began to swing the door open.

“Wait!” I cried out, causing him to turn back to look at me. “You can't just send us out there unarmed.”

“You're crazy if you think I'm giving you back your weapons,” John spat back at me as he challenged my plea.

“So what are we supposed to do when we're attacked?” Benji asked, looking scared for the first time.

“Here's the plan,” John impatiently answered, looking annoyed to be questioned in the first place. “My guys will go first to make sure the hallway is clear. You will follow them. Desdemona and I will be right behind you. If you so much as turn away from that door, or change direction for even a split second, I will put you down. I'd hate to end it so quickly, but I'd still enjoy it; so try me if you don't believe me and watch what happens. Now, if you're all done with your game of twenty damn questions, let's move out.”

Chapter Eleven

The door swung the rest of the way open, and John motioned for his men to go in ahead of him. They scurried like rats out of the cage and hopped down off the back of the flatbed, their heads whipping back and forth anxiously as the undead began to notice them. Soon several zombies were heading in their direction, their hungry cries alerting the dozens around them that there was more fresh meat to be had. Still, John took his time helping Desdemona down off the truck. By the time her feet touched the ground, John's fake Blackshirts were already starting to fire off head shots, bringing down four full-sized adult biters, and drawing the attention of hundreds more in the process.

“Come on then,” John said, turning impatiently to Benji, Moto, and me, as if we were the real cause of the dangerous delay, instead of his wife. “Don't just stand there looking stupid. Get moving.”

Benji hopped down first, looking nervously back and forth as more zombies began to join together and move in on us from all sides.

“Grab that one,” John said to Desdemona, who immediately took Benji by the back of the shirt and yanked him close to her.

“Boss man,” one of John's men cried out as he ran out of ammo and switched to his last clip. “We're getting low on rounds, and we got a lot of company. What's the plan?”

“I'm gonna cut a path right to the entryway,” John said confidently. “You'll follow behind me, then go in ahead and make sure it's clear. Our prisoners will stay between us as I get the door closed and secured. Any attempts to slow us down or deviate from the plan will result in a bullet to the head. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yeah man,” I said, feeling tired of his threats. “Just get on with it.”

“Don't sass me, you little punk,” John shouted, slapping me hard without warning. “Remember, you don't have to be in one piece to still be useful.”

Moto looked like he was about to tear John's beating heart right out of his chest and show it to him, but a yelp from Benji, who was now being practically choked by the smiling Desdemona, kept him in check. He hopped off the back of the truck and clenched his fists; no doubt waiting for the moment he could finally take a shot at our captors.

“Well? Do you need a personal invitation?” John sneered.

I didn't give him the satisfaction of answering. I moved past him quickly, ducking as he tried to slap me in the back of the head, and slipped to the ground below. We were now completely surrounded by hungry zombies. Every last one of them looked angry and violent and ready to sink their teeth into something warm and bloody as they pushed in on us. I looked around at their faces as they closed the gap between us, moving less than ten feet from where we stood. I no longer saw monsters and enemies. Instead I now saw men and women, completely lost and desperate, trapped in an impossible nightmare from which they were powerless to wake. It made me sad, but it didn't take away the visceral fear twisting in my guts. I knew that Moto and I were at far worse risk than the rest of our party because we'd already been given the antidote before. If we were bitten this time, there would be no coming back. That dark thought floated through my mind like a black cloud, as a terrifying roar came at us from all sides.

Then again, it's not like any of us are likely to live through this.

Being attacked and fighting off one zombie was hard enough. I gulped as I realized that if we went down now there would be nothing left of any of us to find, except maybe our bones – and even those would be picked clean and pocked with teeth marks from where these ghoulish monsters had feasted on our remains. I pictured a blood-covered zombie sitting like a big baby, sucking the marrow from my femur.

I need to get my katana back, I thought, and the others need to be armed as well. That's the only way we're going to have a chance of making it out of this alive.

I scoured the ground for a weapon, hoping to find a gun that had been dropped or even a good-sized rock I could palm and use to defend myself, but there was nothing in sight.

“Let me show you amateurs how it's done,” John said with a hoot. He turned and began swinging my katana wildly around, slicing open faces and cutting off the zombie’s arms that were blocking the way between us and the door to the labs. He let out wild calls and fake martial arts sounds, the kind you'd hear in a bad kung fu movie, all while aggressively hacking his way through the crowd. Unable to think for themselves, the zombies simply kept coming. A guy with gray skin, and pus boils covering his forehead like braille, took the place of the woman John had just beheaded.

He's mocking us, I thought, but it's far worse than that. He's enjoying this attack way too much. It's like he gets a rush out of murdering people.

In fact, John seemed to possess a fervor I'd never seen before as he brought the sword up over his head, then forced it screaming down into the faces of the undead. It went beyond pleasure now, beyond a lust for power. This was cathartic for John, but not because the zombies had taken something precious away from him. On the contrary, it seemed that John's life kept improving as everything else got worse. This was about taking revenge on everyone who had ever doubted him or tried to stop him from getting his way. John was projecting the faces of his real enemies onto the undead, and letting his wrath come pouring through. Beads of sweat burst from his forehead as he powered through the biters that stood in his way, nearly swooning as the last zoms standing by the door fell in defeat. We were huddled together, moving in his wake while trying to avoid his wide swings. Desdemona shoved us forward as John turned and waved his free hand to his men, letting them know they were next.

“Let's go! Move it!”

The men wasted no time charging through the door and into the darkened hallway, leaving us exposed to a growing horde of zombies that were closing in on us. Neither John nor Desdemona needed to tell us twice to get inside. The only way we stood a chance of surviving was to risk running head-on into more of the undead, and pray that John's men would be able to take out any threats before we locked ourselves in. We dashed inside and John slammed the door. Almost at once we heard heavy thumping sounds as the zombies began to throw themselves against the door and pound on it in anger with their fists.

“That was a little too close for comfort,” John laughed.

“You did great, baby,” Desdemona cooed. “Now let's take care of Franco.”

The corridor leading inward was pitch black. The lights had been shot out before we'd gotten inside. Some other battle had taken place here. There were dark, wet-looking streaks on the walls that could only be blood. Lucky for us there were no signs of the living or the dead.

But there will be, I thought, as I remembered seeing several zombies go in earlier. They didn't just vanish. They are still here somewhere, waiting to sink their teeth into us!

Up ahead, the hallway intersected with another, causing light to spill out. I could see John's men crouched into fighting position. Both had their guns out in front of them, right arms stiffly jutted out, right hands holding the weapon, with their left hands cupped underneath to provide stability. They moved cautiously forward, alertly turning in slow circles, ready to do battle with whatever came at them. When they were certain that the rest of our path forward was unobstructed, they stood up and waved at us.

“All clear,” the lead man stated.

“We're heading west,” John instructed him. “Make a right down the hallway that’s still lit up. That will take us back across to the viewing chamber. We're sure to find Franco there.”

Behind us a fresh round of unholy screams rang out. Enraged zombies pounded hard on the walls, making the ground beneath us tremble like a small earthquake and the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up straight on end. I could see hints of sunlight coming through the door from where the hinges threatened to give way.

“Time to go,” Desdemona sang.

We didn't waste a second. Benji took off, and Moto and I followed him, chased by John and Desdemona. For a moment, I wondered if we'd be able to just keep running and slip away from them once and for all. It seemed like there might be a possibility of doing just that, until the door behind us buckled and the undead began to pour into the hallway with us. Desdemona shrieked loudly, kicking at them as she backed up into John, who began driving my katana through the lifeless faces of the oncoming horde as rapidly as he could manage, all while fearfully backing away.

Up ahead I saw the shadows behind John's men beginning to stir. Before I could shout a warning, three adult male zombies emerged from the darkness and pulled one of the neo-Nazi's down.  He dropped his gun in shock and let out a loud scream of fear as they tore into his neck and bit at the top of his head. John's other soldier turned and began firing wildly, hitting both the zombies and his fallen comrade in the process. I froze in place as he turned around, his eyes glazed in fear, unwittingly pointing his gun at us. Moto held up his hands, and tried to block Benji and me.

“Whoa now,” Moto said coolly. “Take it easy. We're with you, remember?”

The guy looked like he was thinking about it a moment.

He's contemplating gunning us down anyway, I thought. You can see it in his eyes. He looks terrified. I'll bet there's even a part of him that would be happy to take out John and Desdemona right now, and just abandon the cause.

“Francis!” Desdemona shouted, knocking him out of his murderous stupor. He snapped his head her way, and waited for further instructions. “Pick up the other gun and start heading west now!”

Francis, I thought. No wonder he didn't tell us his name before.

He did as she said at once, leaning over to grab his fallen pal’s weapon, then darting off into the well-lit corridor to our right. I could smell the rotten flesh of the advancing horde again filling up the hallway, permeating my senses and making me involuntarily gag.

“Hurry up,” Moto urged, “before they overrun us and eat us alive.”

He took off running after Francis, and Benji and I followed. I could hear the clack of Desdemona's shoes as she followed behind us, and knew John was right on her heels. We passed room after room before moving through the big double doors I had remembered seeing earlier when being led back to our cell.

“We're close,” I said. “I recognize this hallway.”

“You're right,” Benji agreed, coming to a stop.  “There's an office up ahead where I took my physical when I enlisted.”

“Why are you stopping?” Desdemona shrieked. “Do you want to get us all killed?!”

“We have to block these doors off,” Benji replied, “otherwise they will just corner us wherever we end up, and break down the door.”

“He's right,” I verified. “I've seen them knock over entire buildings before.”

“So what's the point, then?” John asked.

“It will buy us time,” Moto explained, jumping in. “Hopefully long enough to get what you came for, and get the hell out of here.”

John looked rapidly back and forth between Desdemona and us.

He thinks it's a trick, I thought. But he can't figure out what the angle is, because there isn't one.

“Come on, man,” I yelled. “We're running out of time.”

“Well, what do you suggest I do about it?!” John yelled back.

“There are file cabinets and a big heavy metal desk in that room,” Benji instructed, pointing to the examination office. “We could prop them up against the door and create a barrier between us and them. They wouldn't be able to knock it over or go around it. They'd have to take it apart one piece at a time.”

“That's impossible,” Desdemona sneered.

“Exactly,” I said. “Which is why it will work.”

“Okay,” John said, jumping in and trying to sound like he was still in control. “Get in there and start moving them out. And remember this, if you try to pull anything you won't live long enough to regret it.”

I didn't bother trying to explain that we'd all be dead in that scenario. There wasn't enough time to play games now. Benji pulled the door open and Moto and I dashed in, pulling the desk out and carrying it as quickly as we could to the double doors. Benji asked someone to help him move the big metal file cabinets, and Francis tucked his guns into his belt and went to pitch in. Desdemona looked petulant at the idea of breaking a sweat, like a cat being offered a bath. She slunk behind John, who made a big show of telling us where to put the furniture and how to stack it. With great effort and strain, Moto and I managed to tilt the desk on its side. By a stroke of luck it neatly covered most of the passageway, and there wasn’t enough room for a person to fit through. Benji and Francis had leaned the file cabinet against it, anchoring it into place. The muscles in my arms and back were screaming from moving the desk. I was sure I had lifted it wrong. I bent over and put my hands on my knees as I harshly panted.

“Took you long enough,” John chastised.

An unearthly howl erupted from the other side of the barricade as the doors shook. One had already found us and I knew more would be coming soon, drawn in by the tortured cries.

“Is that enough to hold them off?” Desdemona questioned. “It doesn't seem like enough. Maybe you should put more of those cabinets behind it just to be sure.”

Resentment shot through me, but I bit my tongue.

Don't give them the satisfaction of knowing they're getting to you, I thought. They don't deserve it.

Working in teams, we quickly piled up the rest of the furniture in the room. The doors rattled like crazy, but showed no sign of giving way. Benji's plan had worked.

“All right,” John called to us, puffing his chest up again and doing his best to still look in charge. “You know the way. Quit stalling.”

If we'd been expecting a reprieve, or even a word of praise for saving his life, we knew right then and there it wasn't coming.

Not in this lifetime anyway, I thought, as I turned and began slowly marching to what could only mean my certain doom. I felt tired and defeated, despite having just outrun a horde of zombies. My shoes felt like they were filled with lead as I followed Francis up the last stretch of hallway, and back into the viewing chamber once more.

Once again, I froze in shock at what I saw. Franco was curled up into a ball, laughing like a madman when we came in. It was a strange and unnerving sight to see him broken.

“Why didn't it work? It was supposed to work! He said it would work,” Franco mumbled, before launching into a fresh round of giggles.

“He's lost it,” I concluded.

“Step over there with the others,” John instructed, motioning toward the soldier, Francis, who had his guns out and pointed at Benji and Moto. John put my blade up against my left shoulder and turned it to move me out of the way quicker. I felt the metal bite into my arm and draw blood as I scurried to avoid having it cut off. John sauntered over to Franco and looked down on him, his face a mixture of disgust and pride.

“Alone and unarmed,” John gloated, leaning over and picking up Franco's gun. “That's just how I was hoping to find you.”

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” John waved the gun around comically. “I'm burning you. You should have seen this coming. The fact that you didn't says a lot about you. I mean come on, man. Get a clue! The real question here is what the hell are you doing? And where's my old pal, Haki?”

“See for yourself,” Franco blurted, letting out a titter of giggles like a rapid string of high notes being played on a piano.

We all turned at once, and followed his line of sight. The thick glass of the viewing room had been punched out clean, like a clear chunk of bulletproof ice the size of a car windshield. Jagged, star shaped glass spread out in a wide radius from the gaping hole, glistening like a fresh spray of powder blown from winter pines. On the ground, in the middle of this mess, was a tattered carcass made of flayed skin and bloody, shredded clothing. It was Haki, there was no one else it could be, and yet still my mind couldn't seem to wrap around the reality of what I was seeing. He looked deflated and lumpy, like a stuffed animal that's had its guts ripped out. His eyes were solid black and lifeless. Blood poured from his ears and nose. He was missing his lower jaw and his long pink tongue hung out, but it had turned scaly and purple, like something from a child's darkest nightmare.

“You're kidding! That's Haki? What happened to him?” John took a moment to scratch the side of his head with his pistol before pointing it back in Franco's direction.

“It's the serum,” Franco moaned, coming to his senses. “The effect doesn't last. In order to maintain itself, the host has to continue to consume fuel at an almost impossible rate.”

“And by fuel, you mean people?” Benji asked.

“Anything living will do, but yeah,” Franco replied somberly, looking lost in thought. “The problem is, sooner or later it's going to run out, and when that happens the biological agent will begin to eat the host in order to survive. By the time I got here, he had already punched his way out of the room. Fortunately, he was halfway back to his normal size by then. Shortly afterward, he fell over and twitched for a long time. I think he's gone now.”

“So much for your big weapon, huh killer?” John laughed cruelly. Desdemona joined him, the sound of her cackling was like nails on a chalkboard to me.

If there is one thing that unites them, it's their love of other people’s suffering, I thought.

“Guess you're not so smart after all, now are you?”

The 'told you so' tone of his remarks seemed to set off Franco, who immediately launched into an angry tirade.

“You think you can betray me? You're nothing! You like to go around telling everyone you were in the special forces, but we both know that's a lie. You were in the reserves, for crying out loud! That's all you ever were. A weekend warrior at best. You don't have the discipline it takes to see something like this through,” Franco challenged.

“That's what I've been telling him since it started,” Moto chimed in, sending John into a fit.

“Shut up! Both of you! Or I'll start with your fingers and toes, feeding them to my pet monsters outside while you're still alive.”

“I take it back,” Franco said, straightening up as if things had suddenly taken a turn for the better. He took a moment to get to his feet, and then dusted himself off. He was like an actor finishing a long performance as one character, and switching immediately into another. He cocked his head at John as he strutted like a proud professor watching a particularly difficult student finally coming into his own.

“I always knew you had a spark in you, I just could never get it to come to the surface. That's why I kept pushing you. That's why you're standing where you are right now, instead of ruling over a few blocks of forgotten suburbia in the middle of nowhere. You will never have to apologize for being greedy, not to me. I applaud your ambition. In fact, I want to reward you for it. Together, we’ll make sure you get everything you deserve and more. I promise you that, friend. You have my word.”

“Why thank you,” John sarcastically replied. “Coming from you that means exactly nothing to me.”

John made a big show of loading a round into the Glock's chamber and pointing it back at Franco's head.

“You've put up a good front,” Franco said in a condescending, but friendly, tone. “You've proven your worth of taking on more responsibility, of being my right-hand man, but this has gone far enough. Lower your weapons and I'll make you my new commander. You'll continue to oversee the horde and troops, keeping spoils and plunder beyond your wildest dreams, as we take down California town by town.”

John looked hard and seriously at Desdemona, who returned the glare.

It's like they're communicating telepathically, I thought.

After a tense few seconds with my guts twisted up in knots, John broke his stare and began shaking his head. Desdemona's wicked grin told me all I needed to know about what he was going to say.

“Gosh,” John said, the familiar, charismatic 'ah shucks' smile returning to his face. “That is one heck of an offer, buddy. I almost wish I could take you up on it. I really do. But you see, here's the thing. The misses and I just have our hearts set on declaring ourselves King and Queen of California and, thanks to you helping me assemble a gigantic zombie army, that's exactly what we're going to do. But don't you worry for a second. I'm not going to forget about you. I'm not like that.”

John’s smile seemed to grow in proportion to Franco's frown, so much so that it was as if the more John's lips turned upward in delighted smug self-satisfaction, the more Franco’s lips turned down in displeasure, bordering on visible fear. It was clear now that Franco knew he wasn't going to be able to talk his way out of this. He'd made a mistake, taken a calculated risk, and it hadn't paid off for him.

“In fact, I'm here to personally see to it that you get exactly what you've got coming to you,” John went on, loving every second of his planned-out revenge. “I'm going to walk you down and watch as you’re turned. I'm only sad that my actual friend Tank isn't here to see it. He was really looking forward to seeing you killed. He talked about it all the time.”

“If you think I'm going to just let you march me out into a pack of wild monsters,” Franco said in a low growl, “you've got another think coming, pal.”

“Oh, this is happening,” John said, psyching himself up as he locked eyes with Franco. “We can do it the easy way or the hard way, but mark my words, it's going down.”

“You'll never take me alive,” Franco declared, a wild look in his wide-open eyes. “I'll kill every last one of you with my bare hands if I have to, or die trying! I am a trained operative of the Central Intelligence Agency! I answer to no one but the President! I've been waterboarded in Caracas! I've stared down the Shah in Tehran! I've had the soles of my feet beaten before being dumped in the Gobi desert with a bag of snakes tied around my head, and survived to exact revenge on my enemies!”

The veins in his neck bulged as he ranted, but John seemed nonplussed.

“You don't scare me! You and your dirty witch of a wife are so far beneath me, I have to strain to even see you!” Spittle flew from his mouth as his face went red with rage.

“The hard way it is then,” John said, before firing three shots into Franco's legs and sending him face first, down to the floor. Franco moaned as fresh blood leaked out of the wounds.

“You shot me?” Franco said, looking surprised.

“Don't look at me,” John shrugged, “I gave you a choice, after all. It's not like I didn't warn you.”

Franco began to laugh maniacally. It was an eerie sound, hollow and evil and devoid of all humanity. I felt the nerves in my stomach begin to tingle and a growing sense of discomfort filled me as the laughter went on, echoing off the walls of the room.

“What's so funny?” John said, looking amused.

“This is,” Franco howled, pulling a syringe out of his pocket and jamming it into his own neck. John instinctively fired off two more rounds, hitting Franco in the chest. His body convulsed wildly as he fell back to the floor. The empty syringe flew from his hand. It was too late. The transformation had already begun.

Chapter Twelve

Franco began to shudder all over, like his body was hooked up to active electrodes, as violent spasms rocked his entire frame. His chest and arms swelled to the point where his shirt, unaided, tore completely off of him. The seams of his pants came undone almost immediately as his legs doubled in muscle mass. A terrible, high-pitched animal cry came bellowing out of him. It sounded like it started somewhere deep and wet inside his chest, and came rumbling out like an uncontrollable burp. His fingers swelled like sausages, and the nails came flying off like hot popcorn. Blood poured from the bubbled mass of knotted lumps growing on the top of his head, as he sat up and screamed in agony. His eyes had become solid black, just like Haki’s.

John and Francis began firing at Franco's head, but unlike regular zombies, the impact of the bullets seemed to make no difference whatsoever. Franco flinched like a small child being poked by a needle, his face distressed and confused, then he flew into a rage and slapped John with the back of his hand like he was swatting away a pesky insect. John flew across the room and into the pile of chairs on the other side with a loud clatter, dropping my katana directly in front of Franco. I began to crawl to it slowly, as Benji and Moto beckoned me back.

“Xander no,” Moto warned as I reached my hand out for the blade. An earsplitting crack went off again, and my blade jumped slightly as John fired off a round at me and hit the handle instead.

“Don't even think about it, Xander,” John screamed, climbing back to his feet.

I scampered back to Benji and Moto, who had propped up the broken slab of glass and were hiding behind it. Just as I ducked into place, John fired three more rounds, one hitting Francis and two slamming into the barrier we were cowering behind. I flinched and held my breath, certain that I'd been hit somewhere, but the glass had held. The hot slugs were visibly indented in the surface above us, a spider web of cracks extending out from them like ripples from a rock thrown into a calm lake. I let out a small sigh of relief as Francis keeled over directly in front of Franco.

“Oh hell,” John yelled. “My bad, Francis. Sorry about that.”

If Francis harbored any ill will over the mistake of being shot in the chest, causing his lung to collapse, it didn't last long. Franco now loomed over him, having grown to nearly eight feet tall and almost tripling in size. The veins of his stretched muscles visibly throbbed as he leaned over and wrapped his massive hand completely over Francis's head, palming his face. Franco lifted Francis into the air, kicking and thrashing. A nauseating pop echoed in the room as Franco whipped Francis around, snapping his neck. Francis gave a series of final twitches before going limp. Franco then took Francis's legs in his other hand and brought the dead man up to his terrible mouth, chomping into his stomach and causing blood and guts to spill out over the floor. Desdemona screamed at the top of her lungs, and Franco stopped chewing his fresh kill to roar back in her face, silencing her. She sat down in shock, unable to close her mouth or even blink.

John came up behind Franco and once more let loose a volley of bullets into the giant’s muscular shoulders and the back of his bumpy head, with almost no effect. Franco raised his right leg, then kicked backward blindly, connecting with John square in the chest and sending him cartwheeling across the room once again.

Franco sullenly returned to devouring Francis, as if nothing had disturbed him; tearing the bloody corpse apart in big chunks and swallowing it down in greedy gulps. Benji winced and turned away, but I couldn't. I just continued to stare, spellbound and horror stricken. When Franco had eaten the middle out of the man, he threw the remains aside. Francis's legs came to rest near Desdemona, spraying her face and clothes with blood as they landed with a disgusting, wet thud. She didn't make a peep, but just stared at the carcass, a look of absolute terror now in her eyes.

Franco came lurching over to us next, since we were closest. He punched down on the glass, making it crack further, but once more it held.

“It can't take another one of those punches,” I whispered. “It looks like it's about to crumble any minute now.”

“What are we going to do?” Benji asked, terrified.

Without saying a word, Moto rolled out from behind our makeshift shield and popped up to his feet, waving his arms and hollering at Franco.

“Hey you,” Moto shouted. “Over here, you big dummy!”

Franco turned to Moto and let out a loud cry of hunger and rage. He had stopped growing, but now looked intent on maintaining his size, even if it meant gulping down every last one of us.

“Moto! Look out!” I cried, as Franco swung his right fist toward my brother. Moto dove toward Franco and rolled head first between the monster’s legs, coming up on the other side into a sprint. Moto grabbed my katana off the ground and kept moving toward Desdemona, but he wasn't fast enough. Franco charged after him, catching up in a few clumsy steps. He wrapped his fist around Moto's waist and pulled his kicking feet off the ground. Moto let out a cry of pain, as Franco squeezed his guts hard.

“Put him down!” I screamed, but it was too late. Franco was already pulling my brother toward his horrible, gaping mouth, preparing to take the first bite.

“Moto!” I cried out deafeningly once more.

“Use the sword!” Benji screamed beside me.

That was it! There was still a chance so long as he had my katana. Moto brought the shining blade up and over his head, stabbing Franco's right eye out. Franco erupted with an angry cry and shook Moto hard, but my brother managed to hold onto the weapon. Franco stomped both his feet in pain and anger. He jumped up and down several times, and screamed as loud as he could. The glass we were hiding behind shattered into a million tiny little pieces. I stood up and stared at the spectacle in front of me. He still had Moto gripped in his fist, and was once more bringing him toward his mouth.

He's not going to eat my brother! Not while I'm still alive!

Blind rage shot through me as I charged toward Franco, letting out a war cry. I punched my fists over and over into his midsection, but it was no use. It felt like I was punching a boulder with my bare hands. I felt the skin of my knuckles tearing loose as blood poured over my fingers, but still I kept hammering away. Franco kicked at me, his massive leg coming up between mine and sending me flying across the room. I landed hard on my butt, feeling my backbone sting as I came down flat with my legs extended out.

“Do something!” Benji screamed in frustration, as Franco brought Moto up toward his bloodstained mouth once more.

Moto had managed to wiggle around in Franco's grip, turning enough to face the beast. As Franco brought him up to the gnashing maw of teeth, Moto held my sword up, then drove it straight down into the giant's mouth. Franco let out a gurgling howl as blood spilled down the back of his throat, causing him to choke and loosen his grip. Moto wasted no time at all, slightly pulling the blade out to push the point up with both hands and into Franco's swollen brain. He wobbled for a moment, then let go of Moto, sending him crashing to the ground with a clatter. Franco stumbled back and sat down hard, narrowly missing a petrified John, and causing the ground to rumble. A bloody whistling came out of the gash in his face, but he still didn't die. Instead Franco thrashed around in violent fits, smashing his fists into his own legs in his impotent rage. The blade was still lodged in the middle of his face. Franco reached up with his left hand and pulled it free, letting out a howl like an animal caught in a trap as he threw it to his side. I watched as my precious katana skittered to a halt at John's blood-splattered feet. John threw his empty gun to the ground, and picked up my sword once more. He walked calmly over to the place where Francis had been first lifted off his feet, and retrieved the dead man's handgun as well.

Moto made an effort to get to his feet, but it was too late. John was already up behind him, placing the tip of the sword at his back. Moto froze in fear and I felt myself holding my breath, praying that John wouldn't cut him down then and there.

He still needs us as hostages, I thought. He can't kill us. Not now. Not with everything going wrong for him.

“Don't hurt him,” I yelled. “You need us, remember?”

John ignored me and called out to Desdemona who was still sitting in shock on her backside, wearing a bright red splash of blood down the middle of her face and clothes.

“You okay, honey?”

Desdemona closed her mouth and looked up at him. It seemed, for a moment, as if she had mentally checked out, withdrawn into a fantasy world where she didn't realize that the worst was already over.

“Honey?” John said again, looking concerned.

“I'm fine,” she said at last, pulling her feet under her and standing up again. She used both her hands to wipe the blood off of her face, then flicked them toward the ground in a fast motion in an attempt to clean them off. When that didn't work, she made a face and began wiping them on her dress.

“Well,” John said. “That was very exciting. Wasn't it? Not quite the ending I had planned for Franco, but I'll take it.”

I turned to look at Franco who was already starting to shrivel some, the absence of fuel meaning that his body was now eating itself. John was right. It was the end of the line for Franco. He wouldn't be coming back.

“Let my brother go,” I yelled. “It's over.”

“Nothing is over,” John shot back. “So here is what's going to happen. You and your pal Benji there are going to walk slowly in front of me. Desdemona and I will give you directions from behind. Moto here is going to play hostage. If you try to run or disobey a single thing I tell you to do, or screw things up in any way at all, I will jam this steel right through your brother and carve his kidneys up like I'm serving them for a victory feast. Do I make myself clear?!!!”

I gulped hard. I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that he meant it. John was a dangerous guy when things were going well. Who knew how much worse he'd react when his back was truly up against the wall and the odds were against him. But I didn't want to just let him march us back outside to his undead army. No doubt by now they'd already killed or turned most of the Loyalists and Blackshirts, and at least half the bikers as well. I just knew I didn't have a choice. If I wanted my brother to live, I'd have to keep playing along and hope for a miracle.

“Yes,” I said at last, feeling defeated.

“Good,” John said. “Now get moving! Both of you!”

Benji and I marched forward, and John stayed close behind barking out orders. At first I was afraid he might try to lead us back the way we came, but as we continued on it became obvious that he had a different route in mind.

“Where are we going?” I whispered to Benji, who knew the base and the labs better than I did. “Where is he taking us?”

“This way leads to the front entrance,” Benji explained before John screamed at us.

“STOP!”

I froze in my tracks, fearing that Moto would be punished for anything I did wrong. Once more, I held my breath as I waited for John to do something terrible.

“This is it,” John said at last. “This door leads to a hallway that will take us out of the main entrance and back toward the gates, away from the base. Xander, open the door and walk out nice and slow.”

I reached over and put my hand on the handle, my mind filled with terrible visions of zombies flooding in and biting me all over the second I pulled it open. Instead, I saw that the hallway was totally empty. I looked back at John who seemed surprised as well. A look of victory broke out on his face, as if he was close to finally getting his way. He licked his lips with excitement.

“Take us on out, boy,” he said at last. “And don't do anything stupid.”

Chapter Thirteen

Cautiously we inched forward along the deserted hallways on the abandoned side of the lab, looking for the door that led to the main entrance hallway and spilled out toward the front of the base. It was eerily quiet, but I knew that was no reason to believe that a zombie might not pop out at any moment and try to chew my face off. I'd seen it too many times, people letting their guard down early, and then paying the price for it.

Just as Moto had once done, I thought, recalling his story of how he'd been turned.

Even though my sword was nowhere near my back I could feel it behind me, in John's hands. The idea of having to wrestle it away from him again only added to my sense of helplessness and exhaustion. It had all been too much, and battling Franco had been the final straw. My strained body ached in unfamiliar places as I walked on, a dull headache spreading across my forehead, the taste of adrenaline still stinging in my mouth like sour acid.

I can't give up, I thought. There is always a way, always another chance, as long as I am still alive.

Benji spotted the door first, but Desdemona pushed him aside as he went to open it. She was sticking the gun she'd picked up from John's dead co-conspirator out first, and waving it around like it was a magic wand that would ward off all evils by sight alone. Her eyes darted around wildly, and I realized I wasn't the only one on whom the previous battle had taken a toll. Desdemona seemed to be coming unhinged right before our eyes.

“I think it's clear,” she said in a fierce whisper.

“I don't hear any more fighting,” John said, his astonished voice barely able to contain his wonder. “Maybe the zombies got their fill and are just idly waiting to be led back to their cages.”

Yeah right, I thought. As if that would ever happen in a million years!

“Let's send the boys out in front, just in case there is still action,” Desdemona suggested.

“Good idea,” John said. “I don't feel like getting a face full of metal for walking out the wrong door.”

“Or having your legs chewed off by one of your own zoms,” Desdemona added.

“You heard the lady,” John frothed, puffing up and waving my sword menacingly in our direction. “Get moving.”

I started forward first, hoping to shield Benji and Moto from whatever harm might lie in wait for us on the other side of the doors. Behind me, I heard Desdemona's warning.

“Not too fast now,” she purred.

“Or I'll chop up your friends,” John seethed.

My legs felt like they were made of cement as I cautiously walked into the empty hall. There were signs of battle all around me, walls riddled with bullet holes, shattered glass covering the floor, widespread streaks of dried blood on the walls, but no evidence of undead demons. These were the unholy trails of carnage they generally left in their wake. This place looked like it had seen a shoot-out, like people had been wounded here and taken elsewhere to safety. As I approached the exit the sunlight outside blinded me, making it hard to focus. My eyes needed time to adjust before I strolled out onto a zombie-overrun battlefield full of enemies, but I wasn't going to get it and I knew it. I raised my left arm over my face to shield my eyes, as I stepped out onto the common grounds in the now war-torn Hueneme base.

“Keep going,” I heard John call out behind me, but it was no use. I'd gone no more than a few steps before the shock of what I was seeing brought me to a grinding halt. I was facing the direction where the front gate had been before Benji blew it sky high only an hour before. The bodies of the fallen lay all around me. Some were still intact, while others were torn into ragged pieces that made my stomach churn. Amidst this sea of carnage and loss were the zombies themselves, now curled up or stretched out like drunken homeless people sprawled on a park lawn at high noon taking a comfortable nap. I saw signs of movement in the distance and could make out the forms of several residents of Xanadu, men and women moving between the bodies looking for survivors and checking the condition of each zombie.

Those are Apache's men, I realized.

“What the hell?” John called out, shaking me from my stupor.

“They're looking for the freshly turned,” I said without thinking. “For the ones that can still be saved so they can help them return.”

I knew firsthand what that was like. I'd never felt as alone as I had after being bitten, and realized I was going to die. I was sure I actually did die for a while, before the hallucinations subsided and I found out I was going to live.

“I don't think that's what he means,” Benji warned.

“Keep moving,” John said gruffly, shoving me from behind and almost knocking me off my feet. I stumbled forward slightly, then caught myself just before tripping over a severed arm in a long black sleeve.

At least we don't have to worry about the Blackshirts anymore, I thought.

Looking off in the distance I saw now the reason behind John's quixotic outburst. At the entrance to the base were bikers and Blackshirts, all on their knees with their hands on their heads. I could make out the sullen face of Zane among them, now a prisoner, just as Moto had warned him he'd be. Behind them were literally thousands of soldiers slowly marching forward. A large tank rolled onward past them, cutting a line where the Indians had just pulled out the remaining survivors. It came right up to us, bringing a flank of soldiers with it.

“That's far enough,” John announced, pushing my own sword into my back and drawing blood.

I froze in place and held my breath, praying he wouldn't do anything rash.

“I told you this was coming,” Moto reminded him. “But you didn't listen.”

Maybe now's not the time to act so self-righteous, I thought, even though you’re right. There was no way out of this now. His men were all dead or defeated, his army of the undead had been decimated, and his secret weapon was now gone as well. The only hope he might have had of escaping with his life was now a memory. It was the ultimate I told you so.

“They’ve finally arrived,” Benji breathed a huge sigh of relief.

“Who?”

“The damn reinforcements I called for,” Benji blurted out.

“Don't move a muscle,” John threatened. “Or I will slice you into so many pieces they'll never be able to put your back together again.”

“It's over, John,” Moto said firmly. “Don't make things worse for yourself than they already are.”

“I decide when it's over,” John screamed in his face. “Not you or anyone else!”

“What are we gonna do, John?” Desdemona groaned, sounding frightened for the first time.

“We're going to stick to the plan,” John yelled, sounding like he was trying to convince himself. “That's why we kept them alive. Now all the trouble they've been is finally going to pay off when we use them as a shield and walk right off this base.”

“Come on, John,” Moto advised. “You and I both know that's never going to happen. They're not going to negotiate with you.”

“You’d better hope that you're wrong,” John threatened. “For your own sake.”

The lid of the tank came open and out of the top arose General Helmer from Edwards Air Force Base, looking as fierce and angry and unforgiving as I had remembered from my first and only encounter with him. His eyes seemed to burn with pure electricity, making his peppered hair stand straight on end.

“I am General Helmer from the Unified Armed Forces of the United States of America,” he barked. “Put down your weapons and prepare to surrender.”

“You better do what he says,” Moto prodded, raising his arms over his head in surrender. “That is, if you want to live.”

“I'm not going to tell you again,” the General impatiently admonished them. I saw the troops inching forward, arms at the ready to take us all out if need be. Benji and I both raised our hands in surrender at the same time. John pulled back behind Moto, placing the sword directly into his back.

“As long as I got my lady by my side and these high value hostages, I think I still got options,” John replied.

I looked over at Desdemona. Her face was white with fear, her lips parted in a surprised ‘O’ as she glanced between the rapidly swelling troops surrounding us and her insane lover cowering behind my brother’s back.

“Xander!”

“Moto!”

I looked over to see Felicity and Sonya coming toward us, the troops parting to make way for them. Apache and Kaya were with them, along with Tarunika.

“Stay there,” I cried out, not wanting anyone else to get hurt. Felicity's face was streaked with tears, but Sonya looked more like a curled snake getting ready to strike. She locked eyes with John and didn't blink.

“Get back,” John directed. “I'm warning you.”

“This is your last chance,” General Helmer declared. “Surrender now or be killed.”

“You'll never take us alive,” John hollered back.

“Wait!” Desdemona's loud cry split the air. “I surrender!”

She turned to John, whose face was now paralyzed in complete shock, his mouth hanging wide open, as she whispered, “Sorry love. It's survival of the fittest. Every woman for herself.”

“You gotta be kidding me,” was all John could manage.

Desdemona threw down her gun and began running toward the tank.

“Please help us! It was all his idea! I've been his hostage this whole time!”

“Stop where you are or we will be forced to shoot,” General Helmer warned her, but Desdemona was now so caught up in her act that she wasn't listening. She waved her hands over her head as she continued forward, babbling the whole time.

“He's a monster! I thought he was going to kill us all! Thank God you arrived when you did!”

The soldiers took aim, but Desdemona showed no signs of slowing. It seemed she wouldn't be happy until she had thrown herself across the front of the tank and begged for mercy. Just as she drew near enough, Sonya sprang out, moving as swiftly and gracefully as a cat, bringing her fist dead center into Desdemona's crying face. There was a loud thwap as Sonya connected and Desdemona was instantly lifted off her feet and laid down flat on her back. She was as quiet as the grave. She'd been knocked out cold.

“Hell yay,” Felicity hooted, walking forward to high five Sonya. “Good shot, girl!”

I turned back to John, who seemed furious now and on the verge of doing something rash.

“Put the sword down,” Moto ordered. “Now.”

“It's over,” I said.

“I'd rather die than let you beat me,” John grunted, his face twisted with raw anger and humiliation. “See you in hell.”

I knew what was about to happen, but I was completely powerless to stop it. I watched in horror as John drove my katana through Moto, the blade coming out the other side. A look of shock dawned on Moto's face as he looked down and saw the blade sticking out of him, covered in his blood. He fell to his knees as John pulled it out. Sonya screamed at the top of her lungs. John smiled as he turned to me and pulled the handgun from his belt line. He pointed it in my direction. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. I turned and made eye contact with Felicity. She stood watching on in horror and shock at what was about to happen.

“I love you, Felicity Jane,” I said, wanting my last words to be to her.

“I love you too, baby.”

The gesture seemed to only make John grow angrier. Consumed by rage and betrayal, he turned the gun away from me and pointed it at Felicity instead.

“NO!” I shouted, lunging for him and knocking him over, but it was already too late. I heard the crack of the gun as it went off, just before I tumbled on top of John and too late knocked it out of his hands. Sonya cried out again and I turned back looking for Felicity. She was bent over Apache, who had stepped in front of her at the last second, taking the bullet in the chest. It had hit him square in the heart, killing him almost instantly. Felicity cradled his head and cried. He collapsed, and died in her arms.

“How's it feel to lose everything?” John asked with a cocky grin.

I brought my fist down hard into his unprotected face in reply. He laughed and spit blood at me.

“Let's do this, Xander,” John taunted, dragging himself back to his feet and squaring off to brawl. “I've been waiting a long time.”

The soldiers formed a circle around us as we began to fight. I swung at John's head, connecting twice before he ducked the third punch and brought his fist up hard and fast into my stomach, then followed up with another punch to the chest. I brought my arms down to block him from rabbit punching me in the kidneys, but John stomp-kicked me in the solar plexus while I was defenseless, driving me back.

“That all you got?” he asked. “The big bad Macnamara? Maybe I was wrong about you. Seems like I might have misjudged you, kid.”

Fresh anger coursed through my veins, filling me with unforgiving hatred for him.

“I'm going to make you pay for what you've done,” I promised.

“The only thing you're gonna do is curl up and die like your pathetic brother,” John laughed.

If he was trying to trick me into making a false move, it worked. I lunged forward at him, swinging my fists wildly, but only connecting once. John brought several rapid punches to my upper body before driving an upper cut to my chin and slamming my teeth painfully together. I nearly bit off my tongue.

I jumped back out of reach and brought my leg up in a sweeping high kick to his head. It happened so fast, I thought for sure John would be unable to block it. Instead he seemed to anticipate the move, ducking before stepping in toward me and kicking my other leg straight out from underneath me. I fell hard on my butt, and John lunged at me like a predator moving in for the kill. We rolled around in the dirt, each wrestling for control. Several times he pinned me, but I managed to squirrel out of it by elbowing him or flipping over. Finally we came to rest with him behind me once more, his arm digging into my windpipe cutting off all oxygen. It felt like being hung by a rope all over again as I clawed at him to free myself.

Think! You've got to do something! You can't just let him kill you!

“End of the line, Xander,” John exhaled into my ear, squeezing harder than before. “Looks like neither of us is going to live to see how the world turns out after all.”

Sonya cried as she kissed my brother’s face, and all of a sudden I could hear his voice in my head.

Remember your training, his words echoed in my mind. Use what you know to your advantage. Make your enemy do all the work. Draw them out and wear them down. Then they will be easy to defeat.

I went limp, putting all my weight on John's arm to hold me up. I was no longer fighting him as my body pulled forward, causing his forearm to dig even further into my throat and pulling him with me toward the ground. John didn't have time to consider whether or not I was faking. He leaned forward in an attempt to yank me back and, as he did, I brought my head back as hard as I could in his direction. I could feel the blood spray down the back of my neck as I broke his nose, a sickening crack reverberating in my ears. John cried out, more in shock than pain. He let go of me and brought both his hands to his face, gingerly touching the swelling skin. I spun around and punched him in the crotch as hard as I could, causing him to double over and bringing his face close to mine once more.

“This is for Moto,” I said, bringing the flat palm of my right hand up hard and fast and driving it into the middle of his face. I felt the small bone catch on my palm as I pushed it all the way up and into John's brain. He stumbled back comically, looking like a scarecrow come to life. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he slumped to his knees, falling over dead.

Felicity rushed to my side and began hugging and kissing me all over my face, hot tears spilling onto me.

“You're alive,” she squealed. “Thank God you're still alive!”

“Moto,” I said, reaching out toward my brother, who was still not moving.

Felicity helped me over to him. His eyes were still open, but his breathing was shallow.

“You're gonna make it,” I implored him. “You've got to hold on, man! They've got people on the way, right?”

“Apache,” Moto exhaled, the word was forced from his trembling lips as if it hurt just to speak. Sonya cried and shook her head no, letting him know that his friend hadn't made it.

“He sacrificed himself for me,” Felicity cried.

“It's not your fault,” Sonya insisted.

“In case I don't make it…,” Moto wheezed, trying to sit up.

“You're gonna make it,” I interrupted, taking his bloody hand and squeezing it hard.

“…I just want you all to know how much I love you.”

“We do, man,” I acknowledged quickly, hoping those wouldn't be his final words.

“Baby please,” Sonya pleaded. “Don't leave me.”

“You have to live on,” Moto sagely spoke, fighting to get the words out. “No matter what.”

His hand went limp in mine and his head fell back at the same time. A long wheezing breath came out of him. A cold feeling settled over me, and the earth seemed to flip upside down. Sonya screamed at the top of her lungs, then threw herself on top of him, sobbing her soul out. It was a heartbreaking sound that made my heart feel like it was breaking into a million pieces.

At last a group of soldiers came over with a stretcher and began positioning him. Benji and I did our best to pull Sonya away long enough to let them carry him off to the triage tent that Kaya and his men had begun to erect near the main entrance to the labs. I saw soldiers running in and out of the building with medical supplies, bringing them to a guy in a medical mask who was now barking orders to other soldiers around him. The man held up a syringe, flicked it, then stuck it into Moto's arm and emptied the contents.

“Who are you?” Sonya demanded.

“I'm a combat medic,” he replied, cutting the bloody shirt off my brother and peeling it away from the wound. “I've been embedded with this unit since Z Day, providing front-line trauma care on the battlefield. Name’s Jim.”

“What are you doing to my brother?” I hesitatingly asked.

“Just trying to get him stabilized right now,” Jim explained. “Hopefully, one of the survivors is a proper physician that can help sew him up. I'm glad you're here though. He's lost a lot of blood and will definitely need a transfusion.”

“What do you mean you need a surgeon?” Sonya looked scared out of her mind. “Can't you just sew him up?”

“I'm going to do my best,” Jim assured her. “He's got a lot of internal bleeding from where the sword came through. He's very lucky.”

“He's been run through with a sword,” Sonya shouted, nearly hysterical by that point. “How on earth is that lucky?”

“It's the location of the wound,” Jim patiently explained. “Any more to the left and it would have severed his spinal cord. Any more to the right and it would have punctured his kidney. Instead it went through his intestines, as far as I can see. That means our two biggest problems are going to be internal bleeding and preventing sepsis.”

“Is he going to make it?” I asked with trepidation.

“I'm not sure,” Jim admitted. “Let me ask you this. Is he a fighter?”

“Yes,” both Sonya and I shouted at the same time.

“Then I guess it all comes down to whether or not we are able to get him the help he needs.”

Benji came back with another soldier, a tall guy with wiry brown hair and wild blue eyes.

“I found a surgeon,” he exclaimed.

“Dr. Rosenthal,” he said by way of introduction. “I worked ER for years before the world went nuts. I specialized in patching up gang bangers so they could testify.”

“If anyone can save Moto, it's this guy,” Benji pointed out hopefully.

“Let me take a look,” Dr. Rosenthal said, leaning over Moto as Jim pulled the bleeding wound open.

“It's gonna be okay, right?” I asked expectantly. “You can fix him. Tell me you can make him better.”

“We're going to do the best we can,” the doctor said, looking grim. “He's lost a lot of blood. I don't want to get your hopes up. That's all I can say. First things first, let's move him into the hospital.”

“You better make sure it's clear,” I cautioned. “We ran into some serious zombie action coming into the lab earlier.”

“Kaya and his men are already on it,” Benji reported. “They've gone in and cleared out all the bodies so people can be moved from the triage tent out here, back inside to be operated on.”

“We don't have any time to waste,” Dr. Rosenthal informed us. “Pick him up and bring him in.”

We lifted him and brought him to the hospital. Moto's eyes flickered, but didn't open. Jim, the combat medic, saw my expression as I stared down at my brother, so close to death.

“Don't worry,” Jim encouraged me. “I gave him a huge dose of morphine. He can't feel a thing.”

We brought him to an operating room, and laid him on the table. Dr. Rosenthal went right to work, hooking him up to an IV and getting the wound prepped. Jim stayed to help, and several other soldiers with medical experience pitched in. One of them began taking my blood right away, draining so much from me that I started to feel dizzy.

“That's enough,” Jim hollered. “Now bring it over here.”

The other medic left my side, and took the vials of fresh blood to Jim. Sonya began to sob at the sight of my brother being operated on.

“Get her out of here now!” Dr. Rosenthal ordered. Felicity and I took Sonya by the arms and gently pulled her out of the room. Once we were in the hallway, Felicity pulled Sonya close to her. They collapsed to the floor, both sobbing as they hugged one another.

“Maybe we should give them a moment,” Benji said in sympathy. I nodded. We turned and went back outside, looking to help clean up some of the horrific wreckage the hard-won battle had left in its wake. Benji joined Kaya, assisting him to move the drugged and immobile bodies of zombies treated with Ibogaine. I watched him go without saying a word.

I wandered around the base in a daze. All around me troops moved purposefully, coming and going like busy worker ants.  Some were escorting bikers and Blackshirts to the iron cage that had previously been our temporary prison, re-purposing it as a holding cell for soon to be court-martialed soldiers. Others carried previously zombified people, lost in Ibogaine trips, into a medical tent full of cots that had been set up near the gallows. Another group moved the corpses of both those lost in battle and those laid to rest by the antidote, lining them up for identification along the wall of the trench near the front gate.

I kept walking, unable to process what was happening. I wasn't headed anywhere.

Eventually I found myself standing at the front gates, watching the people as they came and went. Felicity was by my side, but I didn't remember how she'd gotten there or how long I'd been watching. Our eyes met and I did my best to fight back tears, but she didn't. They flowed freely down her pretty face.

“Moto,” she whispered.

“Don't say it,” I pleaded. “Please don't say it.”

Felicity took my hand in hers, a bittersweet smile flashing across her face.

“He's alive, Xander,” she blubbered, breaking out into joyful sobs. “He's gonna make it.”

I pulled her close to me and held her for what felt like a small eternity.

Chapter Fourteen

I dreamed I was surfing. It was one of those extremely vivid morning dreams, the kind that I usually slipped into after waking up too early and not wanting to get up or venture out until the sun had burned off the predawn cold.

It's a weekend, I thought, fighting to get back to where I'd left off. I deserve to sleep in.

Inside my dream, the sun blazed overhead. The water was a deep, impossible shade of vibrant blue, so intense that it nearly knocked the breath out of me. One minute I was sitting on my board, and the next I was deep in a heavy swell that kept threatening to pitch me off, fighting to regain my balance. The harder I worked to get out in front of it, the more the wave grew, spitting salty sea water into my already stinging eyes and leaving me gasping. It was no use. Faster and faster I shot down the growing wall of water, my heart pounding, my feet slipping on slick patches of fiberglass before digging in again, as I struggled to get out in front of the beast, again to no avail.

You can do this, I thought. Concentrate harder!

A rogue wave came rippling back from the shore, causing my board to jump three feet in the air. The behemoth I'd been trying to ride nearly doubled in size as it absorbed the new waves of kinetic energy, and came to a peak at full tsunami height. A dark shadow fell over me, and I looked up to see the curl towering over me like a skyscraper. My board kissed the water with a brief hiss, then shot out like waxed metal on hard ice, nearly throwing me in the process. I ducked down and steadied myself for hard impact, but it didn't come. Suddenly I felt a rush of water hammering down behind me, and a loud crash like a building falling down. The wave had broken at last, sending me shooting out into calmer waters with a fountain of liquid silver spraying behind me. Lodged snugly in the eye of the hurricane I was safe as I rode out of the mess, leaving it all behind. I could still feel my heart kicking wildly in my chest, but I no longer had anything left to fear. The worst was behind me.

I made it, my inner thoughts swelled in triumph. For a while it didn't look good, but you kept your head together and didn't panic, and in the end you pulled it off!

My legs began to feel weak as I rode the smaller hump of rolling water in front of me, ready to kick out of what was now nothing more than a three-foot swell. I turned the board back toward the sprawling ocean and paddled quickly out past the break. When I reached the front of the lineup once more, Apache was there waving at me with a huge, welcoming smile. As I came closer, he laughed at the relieved look on my face.

“What's so funny?” I asked.

“You are,” he chortled, unable to hide the tears spilling from his eyes. “The way you paddled out, I would have thought zombies had come back again and learned how to swim.”

“I'm glad you found it amusing,” I said sarcastically, “I nearly broke my neck out there. I don't even know what happened. The wave turned out to be way bigger than I thought it was. Suddenly, I was in way over my head and terrified I might drown. I felt like I was fighting for my life!”

“Fight all you want,” Apache offered. “It makes no difference. In the end it's all the same.”

“Maybe to someone sitting way out here in the safe zone it is,” I huffed. “I was caught in that crazy swell, old man. I was freaking out, wishing it was just a wave pool at an amusement park so I could press stop and get off in one piece.”

“You can't stop the waves, but you can learn how to surf.”

The words sounded familiar, but I couldn't remember where I'd heard them.

“What's that? Some kind of tribal elder wisdom?”

“Actually, that's from Jack Kornfield,” Apache laughed. “But if it helps you remember, then go ahead and believe what you want. I don't think he'll mind much.”

“I never got a chance to thank you,” I said, gratitude flowing from the depths of my heart. “Or to say goodbye.”

“No need for either,” Apache smiled.

“If it wasn't for you, my wife would be dead,” I argued.

“Who's to say? Either way, try to remember what I told you. It works in life too, you know,” Apache reasoned, his smile growing even wider, “not just out here in the water. Everything is always in motion, always changing. When you understand that, you'll finally be able to just let go and know real peace. In the meantime, keep working on your cutback.”

Before I could ask what he meant, a wall of water steadily rose between us. Apache calmly turned and rode over the edge, hurling fast and wild down the unforgiving chute of roaring tide, and letting out a loud animal howl of pleasure as he went. It was easily the biggest wave I'd ever seen in my life, far superior to the one I had just survived, and still Apache seemed calm and relaxed as he rode.

He's not stressed out at all, I thought in surprise. He seems to effortlessly glide along, knowing right where he needs to be to avoid wiping out.

The wave began to peak and soon the white tip came folding down over him, turning the mountain of ocean water into a smooth blue wall of flowing suction, hungry and powerful and above all, mesmerizing. Apache dug his arm into the wall of water to slow himself down, slotting into position like a needle from an antique record player slipping into the grooves of soft, time worn vinyl. I was hypnotized as I watched it pulling him toward the center, the green eye of mystery churning at the heart of the swell. Deeper and deeper he fell back, but still he never looked concerned for even a moment. He looked more alive and happy than I'd ever remembered seeing him in real life. He let out a deep laugh, then winked at me. It was the last thing I saw before he was pulled into the roaring spume.

The wave exploded without warning, the walls caving in as it closed out in a massive thunderclap that shook the heavens and sent rain cascading down around me. The force was so strong that it drove me back toward shore, pushing me up onto a sand bar, before it retreated. The water grew calm again as a gentle rain began to fall over it. The stormy clouds that had appeared overhead parted and a ray of sunshine broke through, hitting the water and making it dance with sparkling light, like a golden blanket glistening in diamonds. Apache was simply gone.

“You okay?” Felicity asked.

I woke with a start.

“What?”

“You were kicking a lot in your sleep,” she laughed. “And mumbling too. What was it?”

“I was dreaming about surfing,” I remembered, trying to hold on to the images I'd just seen, as they faded like thin vapors of smoke curling into the air. “I think.”

“I'm surprised you two aren't out there right now,” Felicity teased. “Trying to get in one last session before the festivities begin.”

“We would be, but she'd never let him hear the end of it,” I said.

“Don't tell me that the big bad General Macnamara is afraid of his soon-to-be wife,” Felicity laughed.

“You know how scary she can be,” I reminded her. “Remember when we first met her?”

“I was never afraid of her,” Felicity insisted, working hard to sit up in bed. “I just didn't trust her at first. There's a difference.”

“Right,” I said sarcastically. I didn't feel like picking a full fight with her before breakfast. These days she was getting her way more and more, but I didn't mind.

Felicity started to get out of bed, and I jumped up to help. The blankets fell away revealing her swollen belly. Despite being only six months pregnant, she looked ready to burst at any moment.

“Let me help you,” I said, taking her arm.

“I can manage,” she argued, but held on to my hand anyway as I pulled her up to a standing position. I put my hand on her tummy, and felt a sharp kick from within.

“Looks like I'm not the only one doing some kicking today,” I teased.

“He's been tap dancing on my bladder all morning,” she grumbled.

It had been over six months since the big battle at the base had ended with General Helmer rolling up in a tank with the full might of the Unified Armed Forces behind him, and put an end to the military coup that Franco had started and John had tried to finish. The world as we knew it had changed once more, and this time for the better. It took weeks for Moto to heal from the near-fatal wound he'd received in the fight, and in that time he met with Helmer on countless occasions, giving statements about all that we'd been through. Felicity, Benji, and I were questioned as well. Even Sonya gave sworn testimony about her role in securing the Ibogaine and protecting the Project Files, which was the new official version of what had happened.

It was decided by the powers that be, that Moto had earned the rank of general for his leadership and bravery. An official ceremony was held in his honor. He gave a small speech and thanked the men who fought so bravely against those who sought to wield power against the defenseless and weak, and reminded us not to forget the brave soldiers who had sacrificed their lives for our freedom.

“Let us never forget the terrible price we have paid for our future,” Moto reminded us. “And honor them with the choices we make as we rebuild, forging a new destiny together for all of mankind.”

He could have been a great politician, I thought with admiration. Perhaps one day he will be. Who knows? He might even become President.

Eventually, trials were held for those who had participated in the insurrection. Zane and the few remaining Blackshirts who had survived both the firefight and the zombie horde that day were found guilty of treason and sentenced to death by hanging, along with Desdemona, who continued to insist on her innocence even after having countless witnesses testify against her, including me. As general, it was Moto's duty to oversee their executions, a grim burden he seemed reluctant to carry out. In the end, he decided it was best for morale to commute the sentences, opting instead to commit all the guilty parties to a life sentence in work gangs assigned to help clean up and restore shattered communities.

“It makes a lot more sense if you think about it,” Moto explained to those who objected to showing them leniency. “If we kill them, they're off the hook quick and easy. How is that fair? They are responsible for this mess. They should be forced to help clean it up, to see first hand the kind of suffering their selfish and immoral actions caused others. That's true justice, if you ask me.”

Ultimately, I believe he just couldn't bear to see anyone else hung, not after what we'd been through. I know I wasn't planning on attending any executions, including Zane’s or Desdemona’s, who some argued deserved nothing less. The truth was, we needed all the help we could get cleaning up what was left of the world.

A plan had been hatched to put the antidote into full production, with Kaya overseeing the entire process from start to finish. The labs had been cleaned out and transformed into full-blown reclamation centers, with scientists and doctors on staff to help save as many people as they could. There were even psychologists brought in to help with the mental distress of the newly resurrected, as well as some religious leaders and a barrage of spiritual healers for those without religious affiliation. Everyone was eager to chip in and help welcome back the former dead. Each new rebirth was like a small miracle, bolstering our spirits and strengthening our resolve to build a new world, a better one than we had known.

It was in that spirit that the military decided to start reclaiming portions of land as well. They started with special units embedded with Ibogaine specialists and doctors, many of whom had left Xanadu to join the armed forces in an attempt to help. First they took back Paradise City, running out the cannibals who fled without a fight, and knocking down a small zombie horde in the process. Moto put Benji in charge of the attack, and the whole mission was such a roaring success that it became the blueprint for retaking other lost cities, including Barstow. Everywhere they went, the opposition crumbled without putting up much of a fight. A few surrendered, but most of them simply hopped on their bikes and fled, leaving behind the spoils of their pilfered loot, and wide-eyed hostages grateful to be rescued instead of eaten or killed for fun. A new light seemed to be shining upon us, with order and peace being restored everywhere it landed. It was around this time that Felicity told me she was pregnant with our first child.

“That's great news,” Sonya exclaimed when we told her and Moto. “I'm so happy for you both!”

“Congratulations,” Moto said, slapping me on the back. “You're going to make an awesome dad. I'm sure of it.”

“Thanks,” I said, feeling slightly embarrassed by his display of affection.

“We've got some good news of our own,” Moto said with a smile.

“What's that?” Felicity asked.

“We're getting married!” Sonya shrieked, holding out her hand to show off a diamond ring.

“How wonderful,” Felicity said, beaming with pleasure for them both.

“Are you sure you're okay with it?” Sonya asked, looking nervously at Felicity.

“Of course I am,” Felicity said without any hesitation at all. “Why wouldn't I be? You're like family already anyway. This will just make it official.”

“Good,” Sonya replied, looking relieved, “because I want you to be my maid of honor.”

In the weeks that passed, time seemed to speed up. There was still plenty to do around the base. New recruits were flooding in daily, and I was now in charge of training them and getting them ready to ship off to the front lines. In addition to teaching hand-to-hand combat skills, I was also responsible for seeing that they were well acquainted with every aspect of military life. More than anything, Moto said he wanted to strip away what he called 'the new Joe smell' from the freshly enlisted, in the hopes that they'd be more readily accepted by the long-term soldiers. It was grueling work that took up nearly all my spare time since most of them were far from being in shape in the first place, but I loved every minute of it.

Felicity went back to teaching as well. She had set up a school on the base, at Moto's request, and began to offer courses on everything from water purification to wound care, for anyone who showed up. She was an instant success, so much so, that she immediately began having trouble keeping up with her swelling class sizes. That's when I reached out to her old colleague, Jamie Friendly, inviting him to live on the base and help us out. After we left by train so long ago, Freedom Town was attacked by a massive coalition of outlaw forces, including both Alphas and Warriors. They broke through Batista's defenses with almost no resistance, and laid waste to everything in sight while searching of us. Batista's body was never recovered. There are even some who think he might still be alive, carted off kicking and screaming by the enemy. Those who survived the brutal onslaught had taken up residence at Edwards, waiting to move to a safe place. They formed a tent city away from the soldiers, and began to rebuild what they could of their shattered lives once again. Some of them, like Stanley the Stone, enlisted and joined the fight, while others drifted off in search of a new safe haven.

Jamie stayed behind to care for those with nowhere else to go. In fact, General Helmer was the first to tell me about his work, praising Jamie's dedication and commitment to helping others. I wasn't sure he'd be willing to leave his flock behind, or to forgive me for that matter. The way things had ended, I wouldn't be all that shocked if he wrote back telling me he never wanted to see my face again as long as he lived. Instead, to my surprise, he gladly accepted my invitation without reservation, sending word that he'd be able to start in less than a week.

“Ever since Freedom Town fell, I've been looking for a way I could help to make a real difference,” Jamie wrote back. “I’m glad you are able to put our differences aside, and I would be honored to join forces with you and your lovely wife to help bring about a better future for all of us.”

He arrived by train and I met him at the station, picking him up without ever telling Felicity he was coming. We surprised her as she was finishing teaching for the day, and for a moment I thought I might have gone too far. Felicity froze in shock, then dropped her books and ran to Jamie, throwing her arms around him and crying.

I'll never forget how it felt to make her happy, I thought. I'd do anything to see that smile on her face. It is amazing! She is totally worth it.

What I hadn't expected when I asked Jamie to come help us at the base, was that we would become such great friends. I never imagined we'd have that much in common, to be honest. I was just an average kid from suburbia who had dreamed my whole life of following in my father’s footsteps, and joining the military. Jamie was a world-famous celebrity, just like Felicity used to be. I just assumed they'd hit it off again and become closer than ever. Instead, by some odd twist of fate, Jamie and I had actually grown closer. With Benji gone off to the front lines, leading soldiers to battle against bikers and warlords and cannibals, and Moto busy with his new duties as the acting general of Port Hueneme Unified Armed Forces, I found myself hanging out with Jamie more and more, often turning to him for advice on Felicity. Soon, I stopped seeing him as a famous person like my wife had been, and began viewing him as a close friend and trusted adviser. In fact, it had been Jamie that insisted on teaching both Moto and me how to surf, after learning that one of our new recruits had been a board shaper for Channel Islands Surfboards prior to Z Day.

“I can't believe you've lived in California your whole life, and have never been surfing before,” Jamie said when I told him I didn't know how to ride. “You've got to let me teach you. It will change your whole life!”

He was right. Soon we were spending mornings in the break just off the base, and I found myself caught in a full-blown obsession with the ocean. Riding calmed me down more than even doing Tai Chi.

Just then, a knock at the door pulled my attention away.

“Come in,” I said, still holding my pregnant wife by the arm.

Jamie Friendly poked his head in with a smile on his face.

“Speak of the devil,” I laughed. “I was just thinking about you.”

“Good morning, love birds,” he sang. “Felicity, you look amazing as always.”

“I'm as big as a house,” she shot back testily, but Jamie just grinned.

“A house with leaky pipes,” I added, helping her to the bathroom.

“I hate to do this to you, but I need to borrow him,” Jamie pleaded, making a face. “One last final best man duty before curtain call. You know how it is.”

“Go on then,” Felicity said. “Take him.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“I'll be fine,” she assured me. “I'll see you at the wedding. Don't be late!”

“Give me five,” I told Jamie. “I'll meet you out front.”

“Got it,” he replied, vanishing as quickly as he'd appeared.

“You really don't mind me taking off with the boys?” I asked again. The last thing I wanted was to be accused of ditching my pregnant wife. Felicity's moods had become unstable as the pregnancy went on, with her snapping over small things one minute, then bursting into tears the next. She said it was just her changing hormones, but I didn't want to risk upsetting her any more than I had to, just in case. We'd been getting along so well

“Go enjoy your freedom,” Felicity teased me. “Once this baby comes, you won't be going out with the boys for a long time.”

“Thanks, babe,” I said, kissing her on the cheek.

I quickly dressed while she was in the bathroom and headed out, meeting Jamie in front of the building.

“What's the plan?” I asked.

“The bird is inbound as we speak,” Jamie assured me. “They should be touching down any minute now.”

“And Moto?”

“Follow me,” he good-naturedly commanded, leading me off and around the front of the base. He led me to where the gallows had been. A solid black hunk of obsidian stood there now in memory of all who had passed away, carved with the date of the battle and the names of those lost in the fight. Moto stared down at it. He was dressed in full regalia, with his hat in his hand.

“It doesn't seem fair,” he said reverently. “Does it? Us still being here to enjoy this beautiful day, when so many others can't be.”

“All we can do now is honor their memory,” I said with empathy as I walked up to him.

“What's this big surprise you've got planned?”

“Give it a minute,” I grinned.

Right on cue, the sound of a large military helicopter caught our attention from the east. Within moments it was in sight, the double whirring blades of the Boeing CH-47 Chinook drowning out Moto's objections as it passed over us and came to rest just past the gates.

“What's going on?” Moto demanded.

“We're taking a little trip off base,” I teased.

“Xander, we don't have time for this,” Moto objected.

“It's just for a few hours,” I quickly replied. “No one will ever notice you've left.”

“I'm the general in command,” Moto said, flabbergasted. “I can't just go missing, not even for a few hours.”

“Your second-in-command has already been made aware of your leave of absence,” I assured him. “He's going to oversee the base when you're gone. He's also agreed to take over the command at any point if you ever decide to take your new bride for a honeymoon.”

“I don't know, Xander,” Moto muttered, running out of excuses.

“Quit stalling already,” Jamie nudged him. “I went through a lot of trouble to arrange this, burned up a ton of favors. Now let's go for a ride!”

Moto shook with laughter. It was hard to tell Jamie no. He had an infectious enthusiasm that made people love him.

“Fine,” Moto relented. “But you’d better not make me late for my own wedding, guys – or you'll have Sonya to deal with.”

We turned and walked over to the helicopter, laughing and boarding and taking our seats. When we were all strapped in I hollered out to the pilot, holding my thumb up to let him know we were ready for takeoff.

“Where are we going anyway?” Moto asked. “Can you at least tell me that?”

“We're going to get your wedding rings,” I sang out, the tail end of my words vanishing in the roar of the engines as we lifted off.

We rode along the coast, just out over the water, taking in the view of the land as we went. Even though I knew the military had been working overtime to reclaim as much ground as possible, I was still surprised to see all the bustling communities that had sprung up. It was overwhelmingly loud inside the helicopter, so we kept our conversation to a minimum rather than shouting to be heard, which was fine with me. We were headed to our mother's house in Pismo Beach, the one left to her by her parents when they passed. Mom and Dad met on the beach near where she grew up, but after they were married, my parents moved to Fresno so Dad could find work. I remembered childhood events like spending Easter and Christmas with my grandparents out at the beach, but all of that ended after my mom passed away. I stayed there with my dad during the time Mom was in the hospital. We'd continued living there for nearly six months after she was buried, my father not wanting to be away from her. Years later, I'd taken Moto there for the first time, after Dad passed away from a massive heart attack in the middle of the night. We buried him next to her just like he'd asked for in his will. Moto was already enlisted by then. He told me we should move there, just until we figured things out. He was worried about me finishing high school. He wanted me to go to college, but all I wanted was to enlist. A month later, Z Day hit. If I'd been back home in Fresno, chances are I'd never have survived long enough to see Vandenberg.

Just over an hour later, we touched down on the beach. We were two blocks from the house on Ocean Avenue. I could see Humvees on patrol, roaming up and down the small street.

“This whole area was just flushed out,” Jamie yelled over the sound of the chopper. “You're lucky. Just a few weeks ago, it was controlled by bikers and crawling with biters. You're still going to have to keep an eye out for crawlers, but otherwise it's all secure now.”

“Thank you,” Moto yelled as he hopped onto the sand. I followed after him. He turned to Jamie who was hanging back in the helicopter. “You coming or what?”

“Naw,” Jamie hollered. “This is family business. I'll hang back and keep the engines fired up and ready to go. Don't take too long. The beach still gives me the creeps. You never know when one of the undead is gonna come walking out of the drink atcha!”

“We'll be quick,” I promised. “I don't wanna get any more grief from my new sister-in-law than I have to, if you know what I mean.”

Moto and I walked to the highway where a soldier saluted us. We got in his armored vehicle and he drove us the short distance to our old house, stopping out in front by the mailbox. The front door was open, and there was another soldier waiting there for us. He saluted Moto as well, as we got out and walked toward him.

“Sir,” the soldier called out. “We've gone room to room. As far as we can tell, the dwelling is clean.”

“At ease, soldier,” Moto said, and the man visibly relaxed.

“Can I be of further assistance, General Macnamara?”

“Just keep a watch on the door,” Moto instructed. “We won't be long.”

“Yes sir.”

Moto turned without another word and walked into the house. I followed behind him, slowly shutting the door after us. The windows in the living room faced the Pacific Ocean, giving us a breathtaking view of the water and allowing us plenty of light to see, which was good since there was still no electricity.

“It looks the same,” Moto said in surprise. “I kinda expected that it might be torn apart or looted or burned to the ground by now.”

“Yeah,” I said lamely. “I know what you mean.”

We walked to the fireplace and stared at the picture above it of my mother and father. They both looked so young and happy, like newlyweds in love. Below the picture frame on the ledge was a cigar box I'd placed there the day after my father's funeral. I pulled it down and pawed through it, taking out the funeral announcement and obituary to reveal my parents wedding rings.

They're still here, I thought, genuine relief flooding my heart. Just where I left them over two years ago.

I turned and presented them to my brother.

“I can't,” he said, fighting back tears. “That ring belonged to your mother. Felicity should have it.”

“We talked about it,” I assured him. “We both agreed that if the ring was still here, we wanted you and Sonya to have it. It's our gift to you.”

“I don't know what to say,” Moto shook his head. “Thanks, man.”

He took the rings in his hand and turned them over; just staring at them, lost in his memories.

“Do you remember what dad used to tell us all the time?” I asked him.

“Of course I do,” he said. “Family comes first.”

“That's right,” I agreed. “Dad talked about the importance of family all the time, how there was nothing in the whole world more important or more precious than your family. I'm sure he'd want you to have these rings. I just wish he could be with us today.”

“Me too,” Moto said. “I know he'd be proud of the man you've become.”

“You think so?” I asked.

“I know so,” Moto assured me.

We stood there in awkward silence for a moment before he turned to walk down the hallway that led to the bedrooms.

“Where you going?”

“Just wanna see if there is anything left worth grabbing,” he stated. “Pictures and stuff, you know, for the girls. Most of that stuff got lost when we left Fresno, but there might still be something of value here.”

“I'll help,” I offered.

We scoured the house, finding my parents’ wedding album and some vacation photos. We took what we could easily carry, promising to come back for more later on. By the time we got back to the curb, over an hour had passed. When we were driven back to the chopper, Jamie looked impatient.

“Take your sweet time, why don'tcha?”

“Sorry,” I said. “We took a detour down memory lane.”

“We gotta get airborne now, or you're gonna be late for your big day,” Jamie said, giving the pilot the signal to take off. “Did we find what we came for?”

“We did indeed,” I promised him.

“Fantastic,” he smiled broadly. “Now let's just hope we don't hit any traffic on the way back.”

We kept low and to the water on the ride home. Although the pilot flew even faster than we had on the way up, we still didn't touch down on the base until nearly noon. I slipped the rings into my pocket, and Jamie and I hightailed it back to our rooms to get dressed. Despite the fact that the Bard Mansion had burned to the ground during the fighting, the wedding was still held out back in the gardens underneath the gazebo. By the time we got there, Moto was already standing beside the priest and the bridesmaids were coming down the aisle. I slid into place at his side just as Kaya walked Sonya out in her white wedding gown.

“Cutting it kinda close, aren't we?” Felicity hissed at me with a fake smile.

“We got back as fast as we could,” I protested.

“You're still missing a man,” Tarunika whispered.

“Where is Benji?” Moto asked, nervously looking around.

I gazed over the crowd of familiar faces. Up front were rows of soldiers we knew, including some of Felicity's best students. Behind them, I made out residents of Xanadu that had come out for the special occasion, intermingled with faces from Freedom Town and Gold Strike City. Happily, both the Spooky Sisters were there, along with Bad Bart. Turns out Sonya's big ride through a zombie horde had paid off, sparing most of the citizens a gruesome death. Unfortunately, the night had not been without casualties. Alphas had taken the lives of both Frank the Blacksmith and Hudson the Marshal. They were laid to rest in the town cemetery next to Teddy Duds. Later, Harry had taken over, rebuilding Gold Strike from the ground up, with the help of the survivors.

At the edge of the crowd, Benji proudly came toward us in full uniform. He had a wrapped stick in his hands and a huge smile on his face as he made his way around the seated crowd, and soon joined us at the altar.

“Where have you been?” I said.

“Sorry,” Benji whispered. “It couldn't be helped. I'll explain later.”

“Are we ready?” The priest quietly asked.

“We are,” Moto said, beaming with happiness.

The priest signaled the band with a nod of his head and the music began. Soon, Sonya was making her way down the aisle in a white wedding gown, with her nephew Kaya at her side. When they reached the altar, Sonya joined Moto while Kaya proudly informed the priest that he was in charge of giving her away. The vows were short but heartfelt, and in less time than I would have imagined, they were celebrating their union with a kiss and walking back up the aisle to where the refreshment bar was set up. Tarunika and Kaya went to congratulate them and eat cake, along with most of the other guests, but Benji and I sat down in the empty chairs.

“I brought you something,” he said, handing me the package.

“What is it?” I asked, feeling the heavy weight.

“Open it and see,” he guffawed.

I tore apart the wrapping to reveal a shiny silver staff covered in hand-carved skulls. I recognized it at once as the stick the Alpha Chieftain had used, the one he kept hitting me with on my head.

“I got it off one of the cleanup crews that helped out with Gold Strike City,” Benji said. “I thought you'd like to keep it as a souvenir.”

“Thanks man,” I said, turning it over in my hands. “I appreciate it.”

“Don't mention it,” he grinned. “I was gonna let you know that I ran into Stanley the Stone the other day too.”

“Yeah?” I asked, not looking up.

“Don't worry,” Benji said. “He doesn't blame you for what happened anymore.”

“That's good news,” I said. “Did he ever find Janice?”

“Not yet,” Benji grimaced. “They put him in charge of his own platoon of men, a bunch of fiercely loyal guys. They've been taking down some hairy biker hideouts looking for her. He's become sort of a legend for his ferociousness. His name alone strikes fear into the hearts of outlaws, at this point.”

“It should,” I said, remembering that icy glare he'd given me as I was led away from Freedom Town in chains.

Moto made his way over to us and sat down.

“So, how did it go out in the badlands?” Moto asked.

“Oh no you don't,” Sonya said, stomping over and physically pulling him away. “No work. Not today. Not at your wedding. You promised.”

“Fine,” he said, turning and whispering to Benji. “I want a full update when I get back.”

They were pulled away by another crowd of well-wishers comprised mostly of new recruits who'd grown to idolize their resurrected leader, nicknaming him General Lazarus. I turned to Benji. He looked totally different than the kid I'd met back on the base. He was much more confident now, alert and ready. He'd grown into a warrior.

“So what did happen out in the badlands?” I asked.

“Nothing we couldn't handle,” he shrugged, trying to sound battle hardened beyond his years.

Why not? I thought. He's seen more action than most soldiers did in their whole tour of duty before Z Day. Come to think of it, we all have now, but he's the only one still actively out there on suicide missions.

“We sent in sniper units with night vision to neutralize the zombie element first,” he continued. “After that, it was like shooting fish in a barrel. A couple of flash grenades to get their attention, and some warning shots into the ground, were enough to make most of them surrender. A few tried to run, but they found themselves cut off. They gave up in a hurry once they saw they were surrounded.”

Felicity found us, waddling over in a tight white dress. Her belly was so swollen, she looked ready to pop right then and there.

Don't worry, I thought. You've still got a few more months to get prepared.

“Look at you,” Benji said, letting out a long, low whistle. “You look ready to go into labor any minute now.”

“It's still gonna be a while,” Felicity said. “Macnamaras are just big babies, that's all.”

“That's what I've been saying for years now,” Benji teased. I hit him and he laughed. He was covered in hard muscle now, a far cry from the scrawny, comic book obsessed runt I'd saved so long ago at Vandenberg.

“I wish it was sooner,” Felicity complained. “My lower back is killing me, and this kid kicks in his sleep – kinda like his dad. Plus, I'm always hungry, and I'm up all night going to the bathroom.”

“All part of the joys of parenthood,” I said. “I hear we won't be sleeping for the next three years or so, either.”

“Small price to pay for such a miracle,” Felicity said, smiling at me and rubbing her stomach.

“Have you decided on a name yet?” Benji asked.

“We're gonna call him Simon,” Felicity said. “In honor of the man who gave his life for our family.”

Music burst out around us as the band started up again. People were playing acoustic guitars and anything else they could find, while a very talented guy led out with a harmonica. Soon our friends were laughing and dancing. Felicity came over and pulled me to my feet, forcing me onto the dance floor. Sonya and Moto were right behind us. We danced and celebrated well into the late afternoon, at which point Felicity and I managed to slip away and take a stroll down by the water. We sat at the shore, Felicity leaning into me, watching the waves as they gently rolled in, not saying a word, with my hand softly caressing her belly. A feeling of warmth and peace radiated through me.

We made it, I thought. I can't believe we actually survived the zombie apocalypse.

My heart swelled with love and gratitude for all that I'd been given. I'd come through the darkest times imaginable, and been given so much to be thankful for, including the love of my life.

My dad was right, I thought. Nothing is more important than family.

I kissed Felicity on the crown of her head, and she gently squeezed my hand. We stared out over the water until the sun began to set, excited for the first time about what the future held.

-THE END-

Acknowledgements

Thanks to my loving and supportive wife, Angie who always pushes me to go after my dreams and to never give up. You keep my inspired. I love you very much.

Thanks also to Shana Festa, Troy Fuss, Kymi Faith, Rick Peterson, Sharon Stevenson and Dave Gammon. Thanks to the Salerno family for their love and support. Mahalo to the Hālau Hula O 'Imi 'Ike for always supporting my writing career.

Thanks to my hardworking editor Patricia Bains-Jordan. Thanks to Shawn King for creating my Laughing Crow Media logo. Thanks to Alan Mathews for formatting. Thanks to Christian Bentulan for the new updated cover.

To my incredible readers, thank you for pushing me to create more new work!

I love receiving feedback from readers and the best way to provide that is with a review. Amazon reviews are a huge deal for indie authors. They help us get our books noticed while competing against big publishers with books that cost $12.99 or more and have slick marketing campaigns! In fact chances are one in five that you found out about this book because other readers bought and reviewed it. So if you have a moment, and you like getting great books at cheap prices, please leave a review. It doesn’t have to be fancy, just honest. Thank you!

http://smarturl.it/devansagliani

About the Author

Devan Sagliani was born and raised in Southern California and graduated from UCLA. He is the author of the Zombie Attack series, The Rising Dead, A Thirst For Fire, Saint Death, and the Undead L.A. series. Devan also wrote the original screenplay for the movie HVZ: Humans Versus Zombies. He writes a bimonthly horror column for Escapist Magazine called Dark Dreams. In 2014 he cofounded the At Hell's Gates horror anthology series with Shana Festa, which donates all proceeds to The Intrepid Fallen Heroes Fund to help wounded soldiers and their families.

Devan is an active member of the Horror Writer's Association. His fiction has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and the Million Writers Award. In 2012 his debut novel Zombie Attack! Rise of the Horde won Best Zombie/Horror E-book on Goodreads. It was also voted as one of the 15 Best Zombie Novels of 2015 by Ranking Squad.

He currently lives in Venice Beach, California.

Connect with Devan on social media:

http://www.twitter.com/devansagliani
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Read his columns on The Escapist:

www.escapistmagazine.com/articles/view/comicsandcosplay/columns/darkdreams

Sign up to receive the latest news about the Zombie Attack series and other projects by Devan at www.devansagliani.com.

To learn more about AT HELL'S GATES, visit www.athellsgates.com.

Also by Devan Sagliani

The Rising Dead

A Thirst For Fire

Undead L.A. 1

Undead L.A. 2

Saint Death

At Hell's Gates: Existing Worlds

At Hell's Gates: Origins of Evil

At Hell’s Gates: Bound By Blood