Download - Night of the Living Trekkies
NightoftheLivingTrekkies
byKevinDavidAndersonandSamStall
ATTENTIONALLSTARFLEETPERSONNEL
The following text is an original work of fiction/horror/parody. Night of theLivingTrekkiesisnotsponsoredby,affiliatedwith,orendorsedbytheownersoftheStarTrek®brand.AnypersonnelclaimingotherwisewillbesentencedtooneyearofhardlaborinthepenalcolonyofRuraPenthe.
“It isn’tallover;everythinghasnotbeen invented; thehumanadventure isjustbeginning.”—GeneRoddenberry
“Horroristhegenrethatneverdies.”—GeorgeA.Romero
Prologue:SpaceSeed“Space,thefinalfrontier...”“Shutup.”“ThesearethevoyagesofthestarshipEnterprise...”“Isaid,shutup.”“Itsfive-yearmission:toexplorestrangeworlds,toseekoutnewlifeandnew
civilizations...”“You’repissingmeoff.”“Toboldlygowherenomanhasgonebefore.”“Quitrubbingitin,okay?”FirstLieutenantMalloryKaplan,U.S.AirForceMedicalServiceflightnurse,
finishedherrecitalandsmiledtriumphantly.“Actually, that last bit doesn’t quite capture the current situation,” she said.
“Plentyofmen—andwomen—havealreadygonewhereI’mgoing.ButI’llbethefirstpersoncurrentlyinthisroomtomakethetrip.”Theroomofwhichshespokewasanundergroundbunker.Sheandhersenior
watchofficer,U.S.AirForceCaptainLesMarple, spent four eight-hour shiftsinsideiteachweek,studyingimagesandreadoutsoncomputermonitors.Duringthelong,boringstretcheswhennothinginsidethealmostcompletelyautomatedfacilityrequiredtheirattention,theypassedthetimebyharassingeachother.“You’rebeingunprofessional,”Marplesaid.“I’myoursuperiorofficer.Show
somerespect.”“Can’thelpit,”Kaplansaid.“I’msoexcitedaboutmyuniform.”“You’redressingup?”“Of course. That’s half the fun of attending a Star Trek convention. I’m
portrayingoneofthegreatestcaptainsevertocommandtheEnterprise.”“YoumeanKirk?”“Kirk’saman.”“Iknow,butIthinkyoucouldpullitoff.”Kaplansmackedhimlightlyontheheadwithherclipboard.“I’mgoingasCaptainRachelGarrett,”shesaid.MarpleshotKaplanapuzzledlook.“Whothehellisthat?”hesaid.“ThecaptainoftheEnterprise-C,whichservedacoupleofdecadesbeforethe
Enterprise-D fromStar Trek: TheNextGeneration. A temporal rift brought it
forwardintime,changingfuturehistory.Inordertorepairthedamage,ithadtogobacktoitsownera,eventhough...”“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Marple said. “Seen it, bought the Blu-ray. What’s the
pointofgoingassomeonesoobscure?Noonewillrecognizeyou.”Kaplan’sslysmilelethimknowthathe’dwalkedintoatrap.“Oh, that’s right,” she said with mock concern. “You’ve never been to
GulfCon.Youdon’tknowthattheconventionattendeesliketogoasincrediblyobscureTrekcharacters.It’sajokethatstartedatthefirstone,fiveyearsago.Ifyoumakeitthroughtheentireweekendwithoutanyoneguessingyouridentity,youwinahundredbucks.”“Screwthat,”Marplesaid.“I’dgoasPicard.He’swhatinspiredmetojointhe
AirForce.IkeptthinkingthatonedayI’dbeexploringspaceandcommandingmyownship.”“Me,too,”Kaplansaidwistfully.“How’sthatworkingoutforyou?”Marplesurveyedhissurroundings.Thebunker inwhich the twoof themsat
was located on the grounds of the Johnson Space-flight Center, just outsideHouston, Texas. Not that the general public—or, for that matter, most of thecenter’s staff—knew that. Their duty station, secured behind a steel door thatopenedonlytothosewhopassedaretinalscan,wasadimlylit,concrete-flooredroomwithasinglelongdesk,uponwhichsattwomassivecomputermonitors—monitorsthatformedthecentersoftheirprofessionallives.“NotexactlylikeI’dhoped,”Marplesaid.“Atleastyou’rebald,likePicard,”Kaplansaid.“I’dratherhavenohairthanJanewayhair.FirstseasonJanewayhair.”“You’dalsomakeagreatOrion.Sinceyou’realreadygreenwithenvy.”MarplewasabouttotellKaplantostickherhigh-horseattitudestraightupher
Jefferiestubewhenasingledingemanatedfromthemonitorsparkedinfrontofthem.“BoxSeventeen,”Kaplansaid,suddenlyallbusiness.Marple’sfingersflewacrosshiskeyboard.Agrainyblack-and-whiteshotofa
steel-walled enclosure popped up on both their screens. Inside, a small four-leggedanimalpacedbackandforthtwice.Then,withitsheadpointedsquarelyintoacorner,itstopped.“Haven’tseenthisonebefore,”Kaplansaid.“Itlookslikeit’sbeenpartially
skinned.”“Backintheday,whentheywerestillworkingonthesethings,somegenius
decided to vivisect it,”Marple said. “Ormaybedissect is the correctword. Itdidn’tgoaccordingtoplan.TheguywhotrieditisinBoxThirty-two.”Kaplan dutifully noted the incident in her log. Not that it was necessary.
Everything—absolutely everything— that happened in the facility was closelymonitoredatanoff-sitecommandcenter.Therewasnoneedtosendreports.TheBrasswatcheditallinrealtime.“We’re getting dinged a lot today,” she said. “It’s like they’re restless or
something.”Marplelaughed.“They’re not restless,” he said. “They’re not anything. They go in one
directionuntiltheyhitawall,thengoinanotheruntiltheyhitanotherwall.”“Still,”Kaplansaid,“fourdingsisalot.”Marpleknewshewasright.Oftenentireshiftspassedwithoutmovement.The
fourincidentsthey’dloggedsofarwerenoteworthy.Especiallysincethey’dalloccurred in the last two hours. Each came from a different specimen, two ofwhichhadgonemonthswithoutsomuchasatwitch.Yettodaytheygotupandwalked.Orstaggered.Orcrawled.It was unprecedented. Kaplan andMarple hated it when the unprecedented
happened,becausetherewasalwaysthechancethatitcouldquicklymorphintosomethinghorrible.Somethingthatcouldnever,everbeallowedtoseethelightofday.LiketheguyinBoxThirty-two.“SometimesIwishIwasstillbackinasilo,servingonaMinutemanmissile
crew,”Marplesaid.“Itwaslessstressful.”“Isn’tthatwhytheypickedyouforthis?”Kaplansaid.“Yeah. My psych profile was exactly what they wanted. Someone who
wouldn’t mind spending a lot of time underground staring at the end of theworld.”Hismonitoremittedamutedalarm.“What?”Kaplansaid.“Whatisit?”Marplestudiedthereadoutsonhisscreen.Hiseyesgrewwide.“There’s a problem with the security system,” he said. “Big-time
malfunction.”“Whatkind?”Kaplansaid.Marplelookedatthescreenforafewsecondsmore.“We’velostcontainmentonboxesNineandTwelve.”“Doesthatmean...?”“GivemeavisualonTwelve,”Marplesaid.“Maybeit’safalsereading.”Another black-and-white image of a steel-lined cell appeared on their
monitors.Itwasempty.“Switchtoexterior,”Marplesaid.TheviewshowedTwelve’sdoor.Adoorthathadn’tbeenun-sealed,sofaras
theyknew,inmorethantwoyears.
Nowitwaswideopen.“We’rescrewed,”Kaplansaid.“We’retotallyscrewed.”“Keepittogether,”Marplesaid,sweatbeadsdottinghisforeheadashetyped.
“Acomputerglitchsprungthem.Butwe’resafeinhere.Nothingcangetthroughatwo-inchsteeldoor.”“Dammit,” Kaplan said. “More of them are opening! Lost containment on
Thirty,Twenty-Five,Eight...”“Stop.Igetit.CheckBoxOne.”Kaplanswitchedtotheenclosurejust intimefor themtoseethedooropen,
revealingarectangleofimpenetrableblackness.The two watched the doorway in terrified fascination. The room’s interior
camera hadmalfunctionedmonths earlier. Since no onewas allowed into theroom under any circumstances, the creature lurking in Box One remained amystery.“Maybe it’sdead,”Kaplanwhisperedas theybothwatched their screens. “I
mean,reallydead.”Almostbeforeshegotthewordsout,somethingshambledoutofthedarkness.
Thethingwasnaked,butitwasimpossibletotellitssex.Itsdesiccatedskinwasdrawntightlyoveritsskeleton.Itshairwasgone,itseyeshadshrunkintotheirsockets,anditslipsweredrawnbackoveritsteethinapermanentgrin.Yetitwalked.“That’s twenty feet down the hall,” Kaplan said. “We’ve got to get out of
here.”“No,”Marplesaid.“Something’sopeningeverycomputer-controlleddoor in
theplace.Westepoutthereandwe’redead.Worsethandead.”“Everycomputer-controlleddoor?”sheasked.Marplecaughthermeaning.Theyturnedtogetherandgazedatthebackofthe
room.Justintimetoseethedoortotheirdutystationglideopen.Outsideinthedarkness,somethingmoaned.KaplanreachedoutandgrabbedMarple’shand.“I’msorryIsaidyouwerebald,”shewhispered.“I’msorryIsaidyouhadJanewayhair,”hereplied.Marple looked up at the ceiling-mounted video camera perched directly in
front of them, dispassionately transmitting everything to the off-site commandcenter.“Whatareyouwaitingfor?”heshoutedatit.“ForGod’ssake,justdoit!”Five hundredmiles away, a two-star general leaned over the shoulder of a
technician, watching the nurse and the former missile commander’s lastmoments.Thegeneralrubbedthebackofhisneck,surveyedthefrightenedfaces
ofthehalf-dozenofficerssurroundinghim,andthenspoke.“That’sit,”hesaid.“Detonatethefail-safeweapon.Deploythecoverstory.”
Chapter1APrivateLittleWarItwaslatewinterof2009andJimPikewasinAfghanistan.He’darrivedthereafewweeksearlierwiththerestofhisU.S.Armyunit,the
10thMountainDivision’s3rdBrigadeCombatTeam.Itwaswindyandcold,andthemountainous terrain looked like anotherworld.Aworld composed almostentirelyofsteepslopesandthousand-footdrops.He was twenty-three years old and in full battle dress, leading a squad of
soldiers through an outlying neighborhood of Asadabad, the capital of Kunarprovince. Kunar was a flyspeck of land wedged hard against the Pakistaniborder. In good times it sheltered smugglersmoving everything from illegallyharvestedlumbertodrugs.Inbadtimes—andthesewerevery,verybadtimes—itharboredguerillasofeverystripe,fromalQaedatotheTalibantomujahideen.Asadabad,amazeofnarrowstreetsandwalledcompoundsshelteringroughly
half the province’s thirty thousand people, was their unofficial capital. ThetroopscalleditA-Bad.Jimwatchedhissix-membersquad,theleadelementinathree-platoon-strong
raiding party supported by Stryker combat vehicles and Apache helicoptergunships,movedownadusty,crookedstreet.Theykeptaneyeoutforsnipersandcoveredoneanotherastheyadvanced.Anoldmansittingonthecurb,hisragged,mud-coloredchapanpulledtightagainstthecold,barelyacknowledgedtheirpassing.Theystoppednearthedoorofaweather-wornhouse.Theywereprettysure,
basedondroneimagespresentedduringthepre-raidbriefing,thatitharboredacache of contraband weapons. The boxes stacked in the building’s dustycourtyard,plainlyvisibleinthephotos,weretherightshapeandsize.Thesoldieronpointtriedthedoor.Itwaslocked.Jimwasabouttoorderanentry.Then,outofthecornerofhiseye,hesawthe
oldmaninthechapanstandupanddisappeardownanalley.InAfghanistanitwas never a good sign when people vanished like that. It meant they knewsomethingwasabouttohappen.Andthattheydidn’twanttobearoundwhenitdid.“Holdup,”Jimsaid.Buthissoldiersdidn’tseemtohear.Theybunchedupattheentrance,readyto
begin.
“Holdup!”Jimyelled.No one listened. One soldier kicked down the door and charged into the
blackness.Twomorefollowed.Anexplosionrocked thestreet.Dustandflamespouredoutof thedoorway.
Theconcussionblewoneofthesoldiersoutofthehouse.Helayontheground,clutchinghisface.Theothertwodidn’tcomeoutatall.Jimrushed into theburningbuilding, trying to locate themissingsoldiers in
thechokingblackness.Hestaggeredaroundforwhatfeltlikeforever,walkedforwhatseemedlikemiles.Slowly,itdawnedonhimthathecouldn’tpossiblystillbeinthattiny,bombed-outdwellingonthefringeofA-Bad.That’swhenhefoundhissoldiers.ThemissingwereprivatesEricWillmanandLouJones.Bothwerenewtothe
3rd.Bothwerecoveredwithblood,theiruniformsshreddedandblackened.Yetbothwereontheirfeet,standingcalmlyatparaderest.“Whydidn’tyoulistentome?”Jimasked.“Wecouldn’t,”Lousaid.“Youweren’there.”Thetwo,Jimrealized,weredead.Yettheretheystood,givinghimlooksthat
couldhaveburnedholesinstone.“Wewereyourresponsibility,”Ericsaid.“Wherewereyou?”theybothasked.Jimtriedtoanswer,butnowordscameout.“Wherewereyou?”theyaskedoncemore.Again,Jimstruggledtospeak.“Wakeup,”someoneelsesaid.The darkness lightened, the faces of the dead soldiers faded. A new, only
slightlylessinsistentvoicereplacedtheirs.“Wakeup!”itshouted.“Somekid’sgoingnutswithaphaser.”Jimsatup.Thenewspaperdrapedoverhislapfelltothefloor.Herubbedhis
forehead and looked around.Afghanistanwas gone. Sowas 2009. Instead, hefoundhimself sitting inaheavilyupholsteredchair in the lobbyof theBotanyBayHotelandConferenceCenter indowntownHouston. Itwas lateafternoononaFriday.Andhewasasleeponthejob.Theownerof thevoice stoodoverhim,adisapproving scowldrawing tight
linesacrosshersun-wornface.“Hey,Janice,”hegrunted.“How’sitgoing?”“You’reluckytheGMlikesyou,”repliedJaniceBohica,placingherhandson
thesidesofherheadasiftosteadyathrobbingbrain.“Butwhy,Ihavenoidea.
You’rethelastpersonintheworldI’dtrustwithresponsibility.”Jimhadheard thisspielbefore.Hesuspected that Janicehoned itona long
string of underlings during her oft-referenced seventeen years as the hotel’sdaytimemanager.“WhatcanIdoforyou?”heasked.“Howaboutgettingyouracttogetherandbehavinglikeagrown-up?Incase
youhaven’tnoticed,we’reshorthandedtoday.”Jim glanced around the lobby, which was uncharacteristically quiet for a
Fridayafternoon.“Lookslikeeverything’sundercontrol,”hesaid.“AsidefromtwoorthreehundredTrekkies,we’reprettymuchempty.”“We have precisely 262 registeredGulfCon guests,” Janice said, “butwe’ll
havenorthof three thousandwalkins for the convention.Thesepeople canbeveryhighmaintenance.You’regoingtoberunningallweekend.”Jimsatupinthechairandyawned.“WhatwereyousayingaboutaguywithaTaser?”“Phaser,”Janicecorrected.“Oneof thosehandheldraygunsfromStarTrek.
There’sakidonthesecondfloorandhe’spointingitatguests.Scaringpeople.”“Where’sourchiefofsecurity?”“Dexter’sbusy.Someonefromtheseventhfloorreportedadrunkmime.The
guyactuallyattackedsomeone.”“Adrunkmime?”Jimsaid.“A man in a leotard with his face painted. Tried to jump Dexter, too. But
Dexter laidhimoutwithhisbaton,cuffedhim,andbroughthimdownfor thecops.”“Crap,”Jimsaid.“He’llbefillingoutformsforhours.”“Exactly,”Janicesaid.“Whichiswhyyou’redealingwithphaserboy.”“Youcancountonme.”“I’ve heard that before,” Janice said. “But I know you don’tmean it.Your
goalinlifeistoavoidbeingcountedon.”Jimfelthisdiscomfortlevelrising.Janicewasbitchy.Shewasofficious.But
thethingthatirritatedhimthemostwasthatshetotallyhadhimpegged.“Look,enoughofthepsychotherapy,allright?”heasked.“Igetit;I’madrag
on your existence. Why do you want to spend more of it cataloging myshortcomings?”Janicelookedhimupanddown.“Because you could be more than this,” she said, gesturing at his hotel
uniform.“Itreallydoesn’tbecomeyou.”Jimfeltakeendesire tochange thesubject,sohekneltandgathereduphis
newspaper—thatmorning’seditionof theHoustonChronicle.Hesurveyed the
front-page headline before placing it neatly on the chair’s side table: JohnsonSpaceflightCenterLockedDown.“Agas leakcausedanexplosion,” Janiceexplained. “It’sbeencordonedoff
fortherecoverycrews.They’regoingoverthewholeplacewithtweezers.”“Soundslikeyou’refollowingthestoryprettyclosely.”“Current events are important, Jim. Especially current events happening
fifteenmilesaway.Now,pleasegofetchthatphaserkid.”Janiceturnedabruptlyandwalkedbacktowardthefrontdesk.Jim stoodup and ranhis hands throughhis close-cropped chestnut hair.He
keptitonlyslightlylongerthanthebuzzcuthe’dworninthearmy.Buthishoteluniform was radically different. Instead of desert camouflage, a helmet, andbody armor, he wore black boots, black khakis, and a white mock turtleneckunderareddouble-breastedjacket.Itwasn’texactlythebestchoiceforHoustoninAugust,butinsidethehermeticallysealedBotanyBay,wherethehyperactiveclimate-control systemchilled everything to a crisp sixty-eight degrees, itwastolerable.Certainly,itwasmoretolerablethantheplacehe’djustcomefrom.Hewalkedquicklythroughthehotel’ssunlitseventeen-storyatrium.Theside
andrearwallswerelinedwithhotelroomwindows.Thenorth-facingwallheldthemainentrance—abatteryofglassdoors.Acrossfromitwasthefrontdesk—along,blackmarblecheck-incounter.Just past the front desk sat a bank of four glass-enclosed elevators. Jim
pressedthecallbuttonandthenfishedawalkie-talkiefromhisjacket’sinteriorvest pocket. Someone hadwritten “Property ofBBH&CC”on its backwith aSharpie.“Hey,Dexter,areyouthere?”hesaid.“I’minmyoffice,”camethereply.”Administeringfirstaid.”“Towho?”“Tomyself.Thatclownysonofabitchsankhisteethintomyarm.”“You’reserious?Youwerebittenbyamime?”“It’s not funny, Pike. I’m bleeding. I just poured a gallon of hydrogen
peroxideonthisthing.”Jimwas tempted to reply that he’d seenworsewounds in his lifetime, but
therewasnopointintryingtoexplainittoacivilian.“I’mgoingtopickupthisphaserkid,”hesaid.“Youwantmetobringhimdowntoyouroffice?”“Hell,no, justbringmehis toy,”Dextersaid.“Idon’twant tocall thecops
again.IttookforeverforthemtopickupMarcelMarceau.”The elevator on the far right of the bank dinged. Its doors opened and Jim
steppedinside.“I’monmyway,”hesaidasthedoorsclosed.“Seeyouinafew
minutes.”Jim slid the walkie-talkie into his jacket, stepped aboard the elevator, and
pushedthebuttonforthesecondfloor.PlayingonthehotelaudiosystemwasascratchyrecordingofWilliamShatnersinging“LucyintheSkywithDiamonds.“The GulfCon organizers had prepared an entire playlist that was tailoredexclusivelytoTrekkieconventioneers;therewerepopsongscoveredbyLeonardNimoy, filmscoresbyJerryGoldsmith,and theoccasionalwarblingsongofahumpbackwhale.JimguessedthislastbitwasanodtoStarTrekIV:TheVoyageHome,butreallyitwasanybody’sguess.A moment later, the elevator doors opened, revealing a wild-eyed teen
wearingaT-shirtthatread“ThereCanBeOnlyOneKirk.”HepointedaplasticphaseratJimandsqueezedthetrigger.Thetoyemittedablastofbrightredlight.“Toh-pah!”thekidshouted.Jim’shanddartedoutandgrabbedMr.Phaserbythewrist—thenyankedhim
intotheelevatorandpressedhimupagainstthewall.Themovewasallreflex.Hedidn’tevenneedtothinkaboutit.“Youshouldn’tpointgunsatpeople,”hesaid.“Thelastpersonwhodidthatto
meendedupinarubberbag.”Theteen,thoroughlyterrorized,droppedhistoy.Jimreacheddowntopickitup,ashamedofhimselfforover-reacting.It’snot
like thishighschoolsophomorewasa threat toanyone.Hejustneededa littlediscipline.“Look,whydon’tyoujustgotoyourroom?”Jimsuggested.“GowatchTV
orsomething.”“TV’sbusted.”Wonderful,Jimthought.Anotherproblem.Heaskedthekidforhisroomnumberandthentriedtoclarifytheissue.“You
meantheTV’sbroken?Oryou’renotgettingaclearpicture?”“It’sstatic,”thekidexplained.Jimpromised to sendupamaintenancepersonby theendof theday.“And
youcangetyourtoybackaftertheconvention.Askforitwhenyoucheckout.”Hewasbackinthelobbyaminutelaterandemergedfromtheelevatortofind
apretty,youngwomanwaitingforthelift.Judgingfromhernavy-bluesuitandCoachhandbag,heguessedshe’darrivedonbusiness.Thewomansmiledathim.“Nicecostume.”Jimlookeddownathisredhoteljacket—andthetoyphaser—andrealizedshe
hadmistakenhimforaTrekkie.“I’mnotherefortheconvention,”hesheepishlyexplained.“Iworkwiththehotel.”She stepped aboard the elevator. “Then youmightwant to holster your ray
gun.”Jim started to protest further, but it was too late. The doors were already
slidingshut.It’sgoingtobethatkindofweekend,hethought.Atthefrontdesk,hepassedamemberofthemaintenancecrewwhoteetered
on a ladder, struggling to hang a banner reading “Wel-come Fifth AnnualGulfCon”overthecheck-inarea.Jimsteppedbehindthecounterandthroughadoorway,walkingpastbanksofcubiclesuntilhe reachedanactualofficewithregularwalls.Thesignonitscloseddoorread“ChiefofSecurity.”Jimusedthebuttofthephasertoknock.“Enter,”cameavoicefromtheotherside.JimwalkedintotheofficeofDexterRemmickandtossedthetoyphaserintoa
large box of lost-and-found objects. Dexter’s more than three-hundred-poundbulk was wedged behind his metal desk, whose surface was strewn with thecontentsofthehotel’sfirst-aidkit.Afreshbandagecocoonedhisleftforearm.“Well, well,” Dexter said. “The Assistant Uniformed Staff Manager has
decidedtoblessuswithhispresence.Howwasyournap?”“Veryrefreshing,”Jimsaid.“ThanksforsendingJaniceafterme.”“Mypleasure.How’sthatpromotiontreatingyou?”Jimsmiledgrimlyashesatdown.He’dspentmostofhissixmonthsat the
BotanyBayasalowlybellhop.His“promotion”—nowastandingjokebetweenDexterandhimself—happenedoutoftheblue.Thegeneralmanagercalledhimintohisofficeonedayandsaidhe’dheardgoodthingsabouthis“managementstyle”andhisabilityto“energize”therestoftheuniformedstaff.Dexterhadguessed,accurately,thatmuchofJim’svaunted“leadershipstyle”
sprangfromthefact thathewassixfoot twoandamuscular twohundredandtwentypounds.Which tended toproduce excellent compliancewhenhe askedstaffers todo things.Like the timehecorneredTed, thepoolguy,andwarnedhim to stop leering at female guests while cleaning the filters. Ted seemedthoroughlymotivatedafterthatencounter.“Anymoremotivatedandhewouldhavepissedhimself,”Dexterhadjokedat
thetime.“When are these people going to realize I took this job to avoid
responsibility?”Jimsaid.“Youandmeboth,buddy,”Dextersaid.“I’mhavingzeroluckwiththattoday.
Kevin should have hadmy backwhen I collected that goddamnedmime, buthe’shomesick.Rightnow,I’mtheonlylawwestofthePecos.”“Atleastwe’renotfullup,”Jimoffered.“ThankGodforthat.Ifthisplacewashopping,we’dbescrewed.Peoplehave
beencallinginsickallday.”Hescowledathisbandage.Thegauzewasstartingtoturnpink.“Youneedtogetthatlookedat,”Jimsaid.“It’sbleedingwaytoomuch.”“I’lltakecareofitafterwork,”Dextersaid.“Thingsaretoohecticformeto
duckoutofhere.”“Hectic,huh?ThenIbetterswitchtoEmergencyMode.”“What’sthat?Jim stood up to leave. “It’s where I toss my walkie-talkie down the fire
stairwellandhideinthefreightelevator.”“Soundslikeaplan.AndsayhellotoSarahforme.”“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”Jimsaid.“You thinkI’mstupid?Every timeyouvisitme,youfindanexcuse tovisit
thenewgirl’scubicle.Itmustbeinstinctive.LikethosesparrowsthatflybacktoCaracaseveryyear.”“It’s swallows, and they fly back to Capistrano,” Jim said. “But I get your
point.I’lltellheryousaidhi.”“Andwatchyourback,”Dexteradded.“Thatmimecouldhavefriends.”“Ireallydoubtthatmimeshavefriends,”Jimsaidashewalkedoutthedoor.He found Sarah Cornell, the hotel’s recently hired twenty-five-year-old
assistantcateringcoordinator,sittinginhercubicle.“Hey,”hesaid.“How’sthefoodbusiness?”Sarahglancedupfromherdesk.Shelookedtired.“IneedthirtypoundsofediblejellywormsforoneoftheGulfConbanquets.
They’llbepartofanalienbuffet—somethingcalledgoog.”“Youmeangagh,”Jimcorrected.“It’satypeofwormfavoredbyKlingons.”“Whatever,nerd,”Sarahsaid.“I’mdrivingtoawarehouseclubtobuysome.”“It’sgottabeahundredandtendegreesoutside.”“Doesn’tmatter.Neitherrainnorsnownorextremeheatshallstaythiscourier
fromgettingabunchof fakewormsforsci-figeeks tonoshon.And then I’msneakinghomeearly.Ireally,reallyneedtotakeoffmybra.”“Icanhelpwiththat,”Jimoffered.“I’mkindofanexpert.”“No,seriously.Lookatthis.”Sarahpulledbackherbluesilkblousetorevealherbarerightshoulder.Just
below her collarbone sat a purplish bruise about the size of a lemon.Her braoverlappeditsedge.“Itcheslikecrazy,”shesaid.“Youshouldseeadoctor,”Jimsaid.“If I had health insurance, I would. But our company has a three-month
probationary period for new hires.” Sarah retrieved her purse from under her
deskandstoodup.“Canyoudomeafavor?”“Ofcourse.”“Rodriguezissettingupadinnerbuffetintheexpositionhall.We’rewaiting
onabigcakeshapedlikea...a...”Sheretrievedastickynotefrombesidehercomputer.“AD7-classKlingonbattlecruiser.ButIcan’tgetanyoneatthebakerytotake
mycall.So,youneedtogiveRodrigueztheirphonenumber,okay?”Sarahhandedhim the stickynote, andJimnoticedawadof tissuewrapped
aroundherrightindexfinger.“Myneighbor’sfour-year-oldbitme,”sheexplained.“You’reserious?”heasked.“Dexterwasjusttellingmehe—”“Icouldn’tbelieveit,”Sarahcontinued.“LittlebratsneakeduponmewhileI
waswalkingtomycar.Ithoughthewasgoingtochompitrightoff.”Sheshowedhimthewound—justsomebloody,baby-tooth-sizeddents.Butas
Jim watched, the dents welled up with blood. Sarah wiped them with thecrumpled tissueand then threwit inher trashcan.Acan thatwasalreadyhalffullofbloodyscraps.“It’snottheendoftheworld,”sheassuredhim.“JustfindRodriguezforme,
allright?”Sarahsteppedoutofhercubicleandwalkedaway.Jimwatchedherleave.Thenhe lookeddown at the note. Itwas speckledwith bright red flecks of
freshblood.
Chapter2BalanceofTerrorLittle kids bite grown-ups every day, Jim told himself. And a drunkmime
nippingasecurityguardwasnothingtogetworkedupabout.Itwasjustaweirdcoincidence.Yethisfamed“spidersense”wastingling.Jim had learned to trust his instincts during his first combat tour, when he
realizedhealwaysseemedtoknow,maybehalfaminutebeforeeveryoneelse,thatthecrapwasgoingtohitthefan.Hissergeantsaiditremindedhimofhowdogscantellwhenanearthquakeiscoming.Heearnedhisreputationearlyinthatfirstdeployment.Hewasonpatrolwith
hisunit,marchingdowna ruttedgash in theground that the localsgenerouslycalledaroad.Besideitsatanold,rusted-outpickuptruckthatlookedlikeithadbeen there since before the Soviets invaded. Jim’s unit hadmarched past it adozentimesonadozendifferentdays.Thewreckwaspartofthelandscape.Except this time. As they approached it, Jim sensed something awry. He
couldn’t put his finger on exactly what, but he felt it so strongly that hesummoned the nerve to mention it to the captain leading the patrol. Notsurprisingly,thecaptainorderedhimtoelaborate.“The vegetation around the truck—it’s been disturbed,” Jim said, thinking
fast.“Ithinksomeone’sbeenscrewingaroundoverthere.”Which,Jimfigured,mighthavebeentrue.Perhapsthat’stheparticulardetail
hisever-alertsubconsciousregistered.Whatmatteredwasthathisunitgavethetruckawideberth.Andthatlaterthecaptainnotifiedordnancedisposal,whichopened its hood and found two freshly placed 105-millimeter artillery shellslinkedtoaradio-controlleddetonator.Whoeverwassupposedtopressthebuttonwaslonggone.So,heknewhehadasixthsenseaboutdanger.Itservedhimwellincombat
zones,whereheunderstoodthethreats.Butnowhewasstandinginthemiddleof a two-star hotel on a sunny August day, surrounded by innocent civilians,whilehisinternalshit-stormdetectorbuzzedforattention.Hedidn’thaveacluewhatitwanted.Maybe I’m just bored, Jim thought.Maybe I’m so tired of this bellhop crap
thatmyunconsciousistryingtomanufacturesomethingformetoworryabout.HeheldSarah’s note between his thumb and index finger as hewalked the
long,longhallwaylinkingthelobbytotheEndeavourRoom,itsmainexhibitionhall. To his right, restrooms and storage areas lined thewall. To his leftweredoors leading to smallermeeting and dining areas.Most had easels out frontstating that, at someparticular time onSaturday afternoon, they’d host eventswithnameslike“CheatingDeathViaTransporter”or“KlingonsandBynarsandGorn,OhMy!”Jimstopped just longenough to reada largeposter taped to thedoorof the
auditorium.ItexplainedthatSaturdaynight’skeynoteaddresswouldbegivenbyaHarvardprofessornamedEliSandoval,anacclaimedexobiologistandoneofthe world’s leading authorities on the possibilities of extraterrestrial life. Jimwondered how the GulfCon organizers lured a fanboy with Ivy LeaguecredentialsallthewaydowntoHoustoninthemiddleofAugust.By the time he reached the Endeavour Room’s entrance, across from the
GulfConregistrationdesk, thebloodonSarah’snotehadstarted todry. Itwasfivefifteenandhewassupposedtomeethissisterinlessthananhour.Sheandherfriendsweredrivingmorethanahundredmilestoattendtheconventionandhopedtoarriveatsixo’clock,orthereabouts.Jimtookouthiscellphoneandscrolleddownthemenuto“Rayna.”Hissister’scellrangfourtimesbeforeshepickedup.“Hey, Jim,” was all he heard before a blast of static overwhelmed the
connection.“Rayna?”hesaid.“...stupidphone...”“Iseverythingokay?”Jimasked.Foramomentthestaticabated.“We’regood,”Raynasaid.“Traffic’sabear.”“What’swrongwithyourcell?”Jimsaid.“...phoneconnectionsgetworsethecloserwegettoyou...”Morestatic.“I’m not sure this convention is worth all the effort,” Jim said. “You guys
mightwanttodetourandhitthebeachinstead.”Hishalf-shoutedmessagegotthrough.Thereplycameinfragments.“...reallylookingforward...”“...biggestall-TrekconintheSouth...”From the background Jim heard a male voice. It said something about
nonrefundableroomdeposits.“Allright,”Jimshoutedagain.“I’llseeyousoon.Butpleasebecareful.And
letmeknowwhenyou’recloseby,soIcanmeetyou.Whatareyoudriving?”Jimthoughtheheardlaughter.
“You’llsee,”Raynasaid.“Andyouwon’tbelieveyour...”Herfinalwordswereswallowedbyahowlofinterference.Jim looked at the phone, swore under his breath, then snapped it shut and
slippedit intohispantspocket.Onlythendidhenotice thathisbellowinghaddrawntheattentionofprettymucheveryoneattheGulfConregistrationtable.“Trouble with your communicator?” asked a short, stout man dressed as a
Ferengi.“Subspaceinterference,”JimsaidtothefifteenorsoTrekkiesstaringathim.
“It’salwaysreallybadinthissector.”ATelleriteandaRomulannoddedknowingly.Rayna’s twenty years old, Jim thought.She’s a grown-up. I’m acting like an
overprotectivefather.ButJimknewhecouldn’thelp it.He’dplayedthatroleeversincetheirreal
fatherhaddiedinanoilrefineryaccident.Evennow,Jim’smentalpictureofhissister was the indelible image of a ten-year-old girl with tears in her eyes,struggling to understand thatDadwasn’t coming home and that fromnowonshe’dhavetomakedowithjustamomandabrother.Actually, she wasn’t even that lucky. Their mother, a borderline alcoholic
before theaccident,decided togoall thewayafterward.Shewasn’tviolentorloud. She just wasn’t . . . anything. Every day, Jim would come home fromfootball practice—with Rayna tagging along because after school she didn’thaveanythingelsetodobutsitinthebleachersanddoherhomework.AndthereMomwouldbe,parkedonthecouch,sippingwineandwatchingSpringer.ShediedfromaheartattackwhileJimwasinAfghanistan.Itwasyetanother
example, he told himself, of how he was never around when people reallyneeded him. His little sister picked the casket, planned the funeral, and evenspokeatthesparselyattendedmemorialservice.Jim was discharged from the army two months later. Everything about his
relationshipwithhissisterchanged.Raynabecametheresponsibleonewhilehedevolvedintoalost,frightenedchild.Shewasacollegejunior,poweringtowardapsychologydegree.Shehadalife.Shehadfriends—evenifsomeofthemwerescience-fictionnerds.Shehadafuture.Meanwhile,Jimwasaglorifiedbellhop.Hisonly“goal”wasneveragainto
puthimselfinapositionwhereothersdependedonhim.Becauseheknewhe’dfail.JustlikehefailedRayna.JustlikehefailedinAfghanistan.“Excuseme,”avoicesaid,interruptinghisreverie.“Areyouwiththehotel?”Jimsnappedoutofhisfunk.Standingbeforehimwasatrim,balding,middle-
agedmanwearing an impeccably tailoredVoyager- stylemedical uniform.Heboreanuncannyresemblancetotheshow’sholographicdoctor.ButJiminstantly
recognized him as GulfCon’s keynote speaker, the exobiologist fromHarvardUniversity.“HowcanIhelpyou,Dr.Sandoval?”Thedoctorstiffened.“YouknowwhoIam?”“Ijustsawaposterforyourlecture,”Jimexplained.“It’sprettyheroicofyou
tocomeallthiswayjusttobriefabunchofTrekkies.”“Oh, it’s no trouble at all,” Sandoval said, seemingly relieved. “Public
outreach isan importantpartofmy job.And Iwouldn’tmissGulfCon for theworld.”“You’vebeenhere before?” Jimwas a little surprised.Therewere certainly
biggerTrekconventions thanGulfCon, andgoing toHouston inAugust couldhardlybeadraw.“Icomeeveryyear,”Sandovalsaid.“It’sagreatplacetodisseminate...news
aboutmywork.”“Anybigbreakthroughsinexobiology?”Jimasked.“Onecouldsaythat,”Sandovalagreed,smiling.“Butyou’llhavetowaituntil
tomorrowtolearnmore.Fornow,ifyoucouldpointmetothemen’sroom,I’dbequitegrateful.”Jimpointedthedoctordownthehall,thenproceededtotheEndeavourRoom.
Hewasconfrontedbywhatlookedlikeavastouter-spacefleamarket.Thefrontquarter of the expohallwas given over to vendors. Itwas linedwith rows ofeight-feet-wide by twelve-feet-deep stalls separated by fabric partitions. Therewere roughly a hundred vendors on hand—a typical industry-conventionexhibitorfloor.Whatwasn’t typicalwas the stuff they offered.As hemadehiswaydeeper
into theconvention space, Jimsawboothshawkingeverything fromStarTrekbobbleheadfigures toSpockandKirknutcrackers toStarfleetAcademycoffeemugs. There were bottles of Pon Farr Perfume for Women, a USB webcamshaped like theUSSEnterprise— even a full-size replica of the ship captain’schair.Perfect for the nerd who has everything except a life, Jim thought as he
walkedpast.A sparse crowd perused the booths, some of which weren’t yet open for
business. GulfCon had officially started at noon, but likemost conventions itwouldn’thititsstrideuntiltheweekend.Thefolkswhoturnedoutearlywerethehardestof thehardcore, themosteagerof theeager.Jimspottedanold-going-on-elderlymandressedasaTalosianfromthefirstStarTrekpilotepisode,“TheCage.” Then a stroller-bound toddler decked out like Balok from “TheCorbomiteManeuver.”
Nomatter theoutfit, Jimeasily identified themall.That is,untilhecrossedpathswithamanwearingapinkjumpsuitandwhatappearedtobeawerewolfmask.The costume was so absurd that he wondered if its wearer didn’t know
GulfConwasaTrek-onlyaffair.ThisguylookedlikeacharacterfromaweirdJapanesevideogame.Yet,themoreJimstudiedtheweirdensemble,themoreittickledhismemory.ThewerewolfnoticedJimstaringathim.“Goahead,”hesaid.“Idareyoutoguess.”Suddenly,itclicked.“You’reaKzintifromStarTrek:TheAnimatedSeries.”“Damn!”themanexclaimed.“You’rethefirstpersontonailit.”“It’sagreatcostume,butitisn’tcanon,”Jimsaid.“That’s totally debatable. If you think the cartoon show isn’t part of the
officialStarTrekuniverse, thenhowdoyouexplain thatKirk’smiddlename,Tiberius,wasfirstmentionedintheanimatedepisode,‘Bern’?”Jim felt a surprisingly strong urge to respond. Back in the day, he’d gone
round and round in various Internet chat rooms about whether the obscureanimated series,which ran onNBC from 1973 to 1974—a decade and a halfbeforehewasborn—wasafull-fledgedpartoftheTrekuniverse.HeevenknewthatthewolflikeKzintiwereportrayedinpinkuniformsbecausethatparticularepisode’sdirectorwascolor-blindanddidn’trealizehowabsurdtheylooked.Inhisyoungeryears,hewouldhavespenthoursdebatingthefinerpointsof
Trekcontinuitywithamandressedasapinkwerewolf.Butthatwasbeforehe’denlisted,beforeAfghanistan,beforehe’dsampled the realworld.A realworldthathadannihilatedhispassionforStarTreklikesomuchantimatter.“That’savery interestingpoint,” Jimsaidcurtly to the fauxKzinti. “Ihope
youenjoytheremainderofyourstay.”Hewasalmostclearofthevendorareawhenonelastboothcaughthiseye.It
was full of lethal-looking edged weapons, all of unfamiliar design. Behind afoldingtablestoodavisionofmenace—agiant,scowlinglinebackerofamaninfull Klingon makeup, including a massive cranial crest and braided, reddish-black,shoulder-lengthhairtumblingdownoverhisdarkskin.Everyinchofhischiseled,roughlysix-foot-eight-inchframewasswathedin impeccably tailoredleatherandmetalarmor.Jimwalkeduptotheboothandexaminedanexotic-looking,extremelyheavy
dagger.Therewasabuttononthehilt.Whenhepressedit,twosmallerspring-loadedbladespoppedoutofthebase.“That’s a d’k tahg,” the bigKlingon boomed. “The finest workmanship. A
warriorsuchasyourselfcouldslaymanyahu’qwithit.”Jimlookeddownattheblade.Hecouldtellfromaglancethattheedgewas
dull.“Noneofthesearesharpened,right?”Jimsaid.TheKlingon’sdemeanorsubtlychanged.“You’rewiththehotel?”heasked.“Yeah.”“Don’tworry,nothingintheboothhasanedge,”hesaid.“Ihaveafewpieces
withliveblades,butthey’reunderlockandkeyinmyroom.”Jimthankedhimforhiscooperation.Oneofthebiggestdangersinhostinga
science-fiction conventionwas the presence of live blades on the show floor.Mostpeoplebrought themwithno real intentionofhurtinganyone; theyweresimply seeking an additional degree of verisimilitude. But when attendanceskyrocketed and the aisles were jammed with guests, those sharpened bladesbecamearealliability.Allittookwasonepersonpushingandshovinghiswaythrough the crowd to get a peek at Patrick Stewart, and the result could be apuncturedlung.“This is an outstanding collection,” Jim said. “Do you make all of these
yourself?”TheKlingonsmiled,revealingamouthfulofpointyfaketeeth.OratleastJim
assumedtheywerefake.“IamMartock,expertweaponsmakerandsecondincommandofthebirdof
preyPlank’Nar.”“No,seriously,”Jimsaid.“SpeakEnglish.”“Iownametal-fabricatingshopinAtlanta,”Martocksaid.“Thisstuff’slikea
sidelineforme.Areally,reallyprofitablesideline.IdoLordoftheRings,Xena,Highlander, you name it. If you see a movie and like a particular piece ofhardware,Icanmakeyouacopy.”Jimtookintheweaponsondisplay.Thereweredaggersofvariouslengths,all
with contorted, nasty-looking blades. There were also several large, crescent-shapecontraptionswith three leather-linedhandlesononesideandfourswordpointsandacontinuousyard-longedgeontheother.“Nicebat’leths,”hesaid.“Veryauthenticlooking.”“You’llfindnofinerswordsofhonoranywhereintheempire.”“Well,Ihopeyougetlotsofbusiness.Turnoutlooksprettylightsofar.”“Sometimesit’sslowonthefirstdayofacon,”Martocksaid.“Andthatguy’s
nothelpingthings,either.”Hepointedattheexpohall’stemporarystage.Martock’sboothwasinthelast
rowofthevendingarea,givinghimadirectviewoftheday’sentertainment.As
thetwoofthemwatched,afatmansportingajet-blackpompadour,aone-piecesequinedjumpsuit,andsicklygrayish-greenfacialmakeuptookthestage.“Oh,crap,”Martocksaid,unconsciously takinga stepback.“He’sgoingon
again.”Jimgrinned.“IthoughtKlingonsdidn’tshowfear.”“They’dshowitiftheyhadtolistentothisguy.Forthethirdtimetoday.”“Ladiesandgentlemenandotherwise,pleasegive itup forElvis Borgsley,”
someoneannounced.“Really?”Jimasked.“They’reserious?”“He’ssupposedtobeElvisPresley,ifElvishadbeenassimilatedintotheBorg
Collective,”Martocksaid.“I’dliketoassimilatehimintothetrunkofmycar.Atleastuntiltheendofthecon.”Borgsley headed toward the microphone with stunted, mechanical
movements.He launched intoanoff-keyballadcalled“AreYouIsolated fromtheCollectiveTonight?”“Whydotheykeepbringinghimout?”Jimsaid.“It’salltheyhave,”Martockreplied,visiblypained.“Therewassupposedto
beaTrekmetalbandcalledWarpCoreBreach,butthey’relate.”“Bummer,”Jimsaid.Hewasabout towalkawaywhenhenoticedacot in thebackofMartock’s
booth.Someonewaslyingonit,butallhecouldseewasapairofdirtywomen’sathleticshoesstickingoutfromunderablanket.“Who’syourfriend?”heasked,pointingtothecot.“Mybusinesspartner,Karen,”Martockexplained.“Shedoescustom-tailored
uniforms—Klingon, Cardassian, all the generations of Starfleet. Really nicework.”“Issheokay?”“She’s justhungover.Shewentouton the townlastnight.Whenshefinally
crawledbackthismorning,allshesaidwasthatshefeltlikecrapandneededtocrash.Ihatetothinkhowmanycommissionsshe’smissing.”“She might have a bug,” Jim said. “There’s definitely something going
around.”“Ormaybesheateoffthatnastybuffetoverthere,”Martocksaid,pointingto
the room’s far corner. “It’s been sitting out all day, with no attendants, nonothing.”JimsuddenlyrememberedRodriguezandthenoteinhishand.“I’llcheckintoit,”hesaid.“EnjoyMr.Borgsley.”Martockofferedahalfheartedwave.Jim walked to the buffet and found a typical breakfast spread of bagels,
sausage, eggs, andcartonsofmilkand juice.But itwasn’tbreakfast anymore.Notevenclose.Thedrinkcartons floated ina tubof lukewarmwater thathadformerlybeenice.TheSternocandleunderthewarmingtrayforthesausagehadgoneout.JimglancedaroundtheroomforRodriguezoroneofhisminions.Butthere
wasn’tasinglehotelemployeeinsight.Hetookouthiswalkie-talkie.“Rodriguez,”hecalled.“Areyouthere?”Noresponse.Jimstalkedthroughanearbydoor,intoaservicearea.Hefound
shelveslinedwithtablecloths,silverware,warmingtrays,andnapkins,allwheretheyshouldbe.Deeper in thestoreroomhepassedcratesofbottledwater,softdrinks,andcannedgoods—justasmallportionofthemountainoffoodstuffstheBotanyBaykeptonhandatalltimes,tuckedawayinvariouskitchens,freezers,andpantries.Butstillnostaffers.Jimwalkedtowardanexteriordoorwherethehotelusedtotakedeliveries.It
ledoutsidetoanaccessway—reallyjustawidealley—bracketedononesidebythehotel,andontheotherbyanofficebuilding.Hepushedopentheheavysteeldoorandwasrewardedwithablastofbright
Texassunshine.Thehumiditywasstifling.Heimmediatelystartedtosweat.AndalmostimmediatelyhespottedRodriguez,leaningagainstthewallwitha
sodabottleinhishand.“Whatareyoudoingouthere?”Jimsaid.“You’vegotabreakfastbuffetthat’s
abouttogoviral.”“I’vebeenrunningaroundallday,”Rodriguezcountered.“I’mjusttakingfive
minutes to catchmybreath.And it’d be a lotmore relaxing if Iwasn’t beingspiedon.”“I’msorry,”Jimsaid.“Sarahsentme.”“Idon’tmeanyou.Imeanthem.”Rodriguez pointed to the far end of the alley,which opened up next to the
BotanyBay’sfrontentrance.Atrickofarchitecturecastitintodeepshadow.Jimcouldmakeoutacoupleofdumpstersand littleelse.But the longerhestared,themore convinced he became that there were people in the gloom. Several,actually.Andtheywerelookingathim.“Whoarethey?”Jimasked.“Homelessguys.There’salwaysacoupledown there.Niceshadyspotona
hotday.Butforsomereasonthey’vebeengivingmetheeye.”“All the more reason to go back to work.” Jim handed him the note from
Sarah.“Shewantsyoutocallthisbakery.It’saboutsomekindof...”“D7battlecruisercake,”Rodriguezsaid,nodding.“I’lldealwithit.”
JimwatchedRodriguezstepback insideand thenheld thedoor forhimself.Beforereturningtothestorageroom,heglancedonelasttimeattheendofthealley.Thepeopleinthedarkwerestillwatching.Itwasodd,but it didn’t really addup to anything.ThebitesonDexter and
Sarahwerestrange,too...butsowhat?Jimsteppedbackintothehotelandclosedthedoorbehindhim.This isn’t Afghanistan, he thought, repeating his personal mantra. I’m not
responsibleforanyofthetrivialbullshitthathappensinthisstupidhotel.Noneofitreallymatters—andamentothat.Justthenhiswalkie-talkiechirpedforattention.Jimpulleditoutandtoggled
iton.“Yeah?”hesaid.“Yoursisterjustcalled.“ThevoicebelongedtoOscar,thesecurityguardwho
manned the control booth in thehotel garage. “She’ll behere in fiveminutes.Herfriendsreservedaspotinoursecuredparkingarea.”“Damnit,”Jimsaid.“You’rewelcome.Youcoming?”“Rightaway.WheredoIgo?”“SpaceK-7.”“That’sabusslot.”“Whichsuggests they’rearrivinginabus.Butyou’rewelcometodragyour
sorryassdownhereandseeforyourself.”Jimputawayhiswalkie-talkie.Then,onceand forall,hepushedasideany
lingeringworries about hotel-related problems. He had family to think about.Stuffthatreallydidmatter.ItwastimetogomeetRayna.
Chapter3TheMenagerie,PartIThehotel’sparkinggaragecontainedsevenlevels,sixabovegroundandone
below.Thecavernousundergroundlotaccommodatedtourbuses,luxurymotorcoaches,andanythingelsethatneededextraspaceandextrasecurity.Atnight,agiganticmetalgatedescendedovertheoneandonlyentrance,lockingituptight.JimstoodbesideK-7,awaitingthearrivalofhissister.Avoicecrackledoverhiswalkie-talkie.“Heretheycome,”saidOscar.“Holyshit.Youarenotgoingtobelievethis.”“Believewhat?”Jimreplied.Almostbeforehegot thequestionout,his sister’s ride lumberedaround the
corner. It was an enormous recreational vehicle—the kind that rock stars usewhiletouringandretireestaketoYellowstone.OnlyJimhadneverseenonelikethisbefore.Itwaspaintedashiny,metallicbluishsilver.Somethingresemblingasatellitedishsproutedfromthegrill.Alongtheentire lengthof therooflineonbothsidesranfatmetaltubeswithflickeringredlightsatthefront.Jimknewexactlywhathewaslookingat:averycostly,veryelaborate,very
patheticattempttoturntheRVintotheUSSEnterprise.“Houston,wehaveafreakshow,”hemuttereddejectedly.TheRVcametoastopwithahissofairbrakes.Thesidedoorcrackedopen,
and out jumpedRayna. She closed the ten feet between them in three excitedstridesandembracedhim.Hehuggedherback, liftingherpetite frameoff thefloor.“You’ve changed,” she said as she stared up at his face. “You look more
serious.”“Youhavenoidea,”Jimreplied.“Butyou’vechanged,too.”“Really?How?”“You’reblue.Andyouhaveantennaesproutingoutofyourhead.”“I’manAndorian,”Raynasaid.“We’reawarlikeracefromanM-classmoon.
Youcancallmebymypropername,LieutenantThellina.”“Alreadygotyourgeekon,Isee.”“Youshouldbecongratulatingme,”Raynasaid.“I’vejustbeenpromotedto
helmsmanoftheUSSStockard.”“What’sthe‘Stockard’?”RaynapointedtotheRV.
“Isee,”Jimsaid.“Whogaveyouthisrank?”ThedoortotheStockardswungopenagain.Outsteppedatall,thin,twenty-
somethingmanwearing a gold jumpsuitwith amatchinggold jacket.He alsohadonaviatorshades—thebigonesthatTomCruisesportedinTopGun.“Hey,LieutenantHottie,”hecalled.“Where’dyourunoffto?”Jim watched as Mr. Ray-Bans put his left arm around his sister’s neck. It
wasn’tahugasmuchasamockwrestlinghold.Foramomenthewonderedifhewasgoingtogiveheranoogie.“Don’tmessupmyantennae,”Raynapleaded.Jimfelthisneckandshouldersstiffen.He’donlyjustmetthisguy,buthe’d
alreadydislikedhimforyears.“Matt,thisismybrother,Jim,”Raynasaid.“Matthew Stockard,” he said. “Or rather, for the duration of this soiree,
CommodoreStockard.CommanderoftheUSSStockard.”“Matttaughtmehowtodrivethisthing,”Raynachimedin.“At first I worried she couldn’t handle a big rig,” Matt said. “But she’s a
natural.Realenthusiastic.”It occurred to Jim that he would have no problem putting Commodore
Assholeonthegarage’scementfloor.Hecertainlyhadthemeans,andMattjusthandedhimthemotive.Raynasensedherbrother’smood.“Whathemeansis,Idrovemostoftheway
here,”sheofferedsoothingly.“It’sreallynotthathard.”“I’msureit’snot,”Jimsaid.“Whatdoyoudoforaliving,Matt?”“That’s‘Commodore.’”“Whatever.What’syouractualjob?”Raynafrowned.“Jim,duringaconventionit’snotgoodformtopushpeople
for details about their mundane lives,” she said. “If they want to volunteerinformation,that’sfine.But—”“I’masoftwaredeveloper for ImpEntertainment,”Mattsaid.“Workedona
coupleofgamesyou’veprobablyheardof.D’youknowShoppingMaul?”Asamatteroffact,Jimdid.He’dplayedthegameseveraltimes.Itfeatureda
post-apocalypticshoppingcenteroverrunwithmutants.Youhadtogofromstoretostore,buyingthingswhilewipingout thebadguyswithachaingun.Itwasactuallyprettychallenging.Shootingpeoplewhilepushingashoppingcarttooksomegettingusedto.“Sorry,itdoesn’tringabell,”Jimlied.AlookofdisappointmentflashedacrossMatt’sface.“Your loss,” he said. “It was only last year’s hottest first-person shooter
game.”
MattturnedhishandsintofingergunsandpointedthematJim’schest.“Ka-pow!”hesaid.“Ka-pow!Ka-pow!”Thenheraisedthefingergunstohismouth,blewawayimaginarysmoke,and
pretendedtoholsterthem.Jimtriedtothinkofsomethingtosay.Hewassavedfromtheattemptwhen
anotheroneofMatt’spassengersdescendedfromtheRV.ShewasRayna’sageandsportedabobbedblackhaircutandclunkyrectangularglasses.Heruniformconsistedofahaltertopandminiskirt,pluspointedprostheticearsandadaggerholsteredonherrighthip.“Jim,thisismyfriendT’Poc,”Raynasaid.“T’Poc,Jim.”“Hey,”T’Pocoffered.Jimheyedherback.“T’PocisaVulcanofficerfromtheISSEnterprise,whichexists inamirror
universe ruled by the barbaric Terran Empire,” Rayna said. “You know, theinside-out dimension where all the good guys are bad guys and Spock has agoatee.”“Yeah,”Mattsaid.“Getherdrunkandshe’llshowyouhergoatee.”“Ifhe’slucky,”T’Pocsmiled.“Thatsounds...great,”Jimsaiduncertainly.“Whatdoyoudointhereal..
.”Raynashothimalook.“Imean,whatdoyoudoaboardtheevil,mirror-imageEnterprise?”“I’mthecommandingofficer’spersonalyeoman,”T’Pocsaid.“Iassisthimin
hisamoral,selfishquest toclawhiswaytothetopof thecommandchain.It’sroughlyanalogoustothejobbelongingtomycounterpartinthisuniverse.”“Andthatwouldbe?”“She’smyexecutiveassistant,”Mattsaid.“KeepstrackofallthestuffI’mtoo
busytoremember.”“Speakingofwhich,”shesaid,“youneedtogetGaryofftheship.He’sreally
stinkinguptheplace.”Mattsighed,thenpoundedonthesideoftheRV.“HeyHorta, get your pimply butt out here!” he shouted. “Front and center,
mister,beforeImpEntertainmentdecidestoreplaceyou!”“Coming,”calledavoicefrominside.The door opened oncemore, and a grossly overweight youngman climbed
out.Unliketheothers,deckedoutintheirfullconventionsplendor,heworerattyjeans, faded yellowChuckTaylors, and a threadbare shirt that read “I Stole aBirdofPrey,ResurrectedSpock,andSavedthePlanet,andAllIGotWasThisLousyT-Shirt.”
Healsoreekedofputrescenceandwasspatteredwithvileblackgoo.“MeetGarySeverin,mypetHorta,”Mattsaid.“YouknowwhataHortais?”“Notaclue,”Jimliedagain,wheninfactheknewallaboutthelumpy,silica-
based, acid-spewing subterranean monsters that debuted in the classic Trekepisode,“DevilintheDark.”Butheplayeddumb,forcingMatttospendmorethanaminuteexplainingtheconcept.“IcallGaryaHortabecausehe’slargeandlumpy,too,”Mattconcluded,just
incasethecomparisonwasn’tclear.“Ialsosufferfromacidreflux,”Garysaidforlornly.Jimfrowned.“Isthatwhyyou’recoveredinslime?”MattwalkedovertoJimandputhisarmaroundhisshoulders.Heleftitthere,
asiftheywereoldfriends.“Garyhadarun-inafewmilesbackwithapsychosoccermom...orsomething.”“Orsomething?”Jimasked.“Hecantellyouallaboutit.AsamatteroffactIguaranteehe’lltellyousince
hehasn’tshutupforonegoddamnminutesinceithappened.Butnevermindallthat.Rightnowweneedtofindourroomsandchangeourclothes,becausetheKlingonFeaststartsat...T’Poc?”“Seveno’clockintheGweagalRoom,”theVulcansaidtone-lessly.“We’llbetheretenminutesearly,”Mattdecided,“sowecanfindatablebig
enoughforallfiveofus.”Jimdidthemathandthenshotalookathissister,whoseemedtohavefound
somethingveryinterestingonthegaragefloortoobserve.“Youtoldmeweweremeetingfordinneratseven,”heremindedher.“Thiswasyourplan?”“I’mbookedallweekend,”Raynaapologized.“ButIreallywanttoseeyou.”“Trust me, you’re going to love it,” Matt said. “There’s a bat’leth
demonstration,barrelsofbloodwine,andallthegaghyoucaneat.”“Idon’twanttospoilyourTrekbuzz,”Jimsaid.“Yougoeatyourgaghand
havefun.”“Pleasecome,”Raynasaid.“Forme?”“Actually...”“Did Imention thatMatt has been hitting onme nonstop for the last three
hours?”“I’llbethere,”Jimdecided.Heretrievedatrioofroomkeysfromhispocket
and distributed them toMatt, Rayna, and T’Poc. “You’re all checked in,” heexplained. “Just take the elevators over there.Gary and Iwill take the freightelevatorwayoverthere,sohewon’tscareoffthepayingguests.”“Where are the elevators?”Matt asked, his head swiveling around. “I don’t
seethem.”
“Losetheshades,”T’Pocsaid.Matt,withgreatreluctance,finallytookoffhisRay-Bans.“Ah, target acquired,” he said. “See you later, Jim, Brother of Rayna. And
here’ssomethingforyourcollegefund.”Heslippedaten-dollarbillintothebreastpocketofJim’sjacket.Jimfeltaflashoftrueanger.Hewasabouttosuggestsomeplaceelsewhere
Mattcouldsliphismoneywhen,onceagain,hecaughtaglimpseofhissister.Andherefrained.Instead,hegrabbedGary’sduffelbagfrominsidetheRVandthenledhimacrossthedimlylitgaragetowardtheserviceelevators.“Hey, Oscar,” he said into his radio. “I’ve got my sister and her friends.
Thanksforlettingmeknowtheywerecoming.”“Can’t talk now, buddy,” came the static-filled reply. “I got some
knuckleheads causing trouble out here. Standing in the street. Harassing cars.Drunkfratboys,I’mguessing.”“Youneedhelp?”Jimasked.“Gohavefunwithyoursister,”Oscartoldhim.“I’vegotthissituationunder
control.”Jimclickedoffhis radioand turnedhisattention toGary.“Idon’tmeanfor
thistocomeoutthewrongway,”hesaid,“butisyourbuddyMattasbigofanassholeasheseems?”“You ain’t seen nothing yet,”Gary promised. “Once he settles down at the
Klingon Feast and has a few drinks, his douche-bag powers will go to fullstrength.He’llcrankitallthewayuptowarp9.95.”Jimassumedthiswasbad.Verybad.Thetwoploddedtherestofthewaytotheelevatorinsilence.Jimmusedthat
therewasanexcellentchance,a trulyexcellentchance, thatMattwouldn’tgetoutoftheBotanyBayHotelalive.
Chapter4TheCageMeanwhile,inadistantlevelofthehotelfar,faraway,PrincessLeiaOrgana
layhandcuffedbythewriststotheheadboardofaqueen-sizebed.ThemanholdingthekeytoherfreedomwasnamedDonnieTrill.Hewasa
self-styledWeb entrepreneur, videographer, and the closest thing she had to aconfidant.They’dknowneachotherforaboutayear.WheneverTrillneededafemalemodel for one of his oddball Internet video projects—and had cash inhand—hegaveheracall.Shewatched asDonniemessedwith the settings on his digital camera. He
woreanill-fittinggolduniformfromtheoriginalStarTrekseries.Itstretchedinaprofoundlyunflatteringwayoverhisgut.Butthatwasn’twhattroubledhernow.Shewasmullingoverthelargerissue
ofhowshe’d reached sucha crossroads inher life.Howaperfectlynormal—well,reasonablynormal—personsuchasherselfwoundupdoingsuchpatentlyabnormalthings.She’dbeenponderingthatquestionalotlately.“Tellmeagainwhatthisisfor,”sheasked.“Somefansite,”Donniesaid,notbotheringtolookupfromhiscamera.“For
people who despise the Star Wars franchise. Actually, it’s for Trekkies whodespiseStarWars.”“Doesithavemuchofafollowing?”“Justfiftythousandpayingsubscribers.”“GoodLord.”“You know what’s really impressive? Their creative director pays cash up
front.I’llsendhimthevideotonightandit’llgolivealmostimmediately.”“WhatdoIhavetodo?”“Just lie there. The premise is that you’re a Star Wars groupie dressed as
Princess Leia, and that I’m an obsessed Star Trek fan who’s kidnapped you,handcuffedyoutoabedandthen...”“Nothingsexual.”“Honey,haveyouforgottenwhoyou’rewith?”Donniesaid.“I’mgayerthan
GeorgeTakei.All I’m going to do is stand around and berate you about howmuchtheStarWarsuniversesucksandhowStarTrekissuperiorineveryway.”“Andthenwhat?”
“AndthentheDeathStarexplodesandtherebelbaseissaved.Whatdoyouthink? I shutoff thecamera,unlock thecuffs,giveyoua thousandbucks,andwe’redone.”Shesighedandrolledhereyes.“Howlongwillthistake?”“Maybefifteenminutes.Theguygavemeascript.Youdon’thaveanylines.
Justlookannoyed.Kindoflikeyoudonow.”“Well,hurryup.I’vegotanotherjobrightafterthisone.”“Boothbabe?”“Whatelse?They’vegot this ridiculousoutfit forme—asilver-bluebathing
suit—and they want me to carry a spear. I’m playing Shahna from ‘TheGamestersofTriskelion.’”“Ihavenoideawhatthatmeans.”“It’saclassicSeasonTwoepisode.Kirk,Chekov,andUhuraarecapturedby
disembodiedbrainswhousethemasgladiators—”“Doyouwearawig?”“Aniceone,”shesaid.“Platinumblonde.VeryLadyGaga.”“The fanboys are going to love that.Maybe you’llmake a new friend this
weekend.”“I’mjusthereforthemoney,”sheassuredhim.Sheneverhadtheinterestnortheambitiontopursueconventionalmodeling
—andatahealthysixfootone,shedidn’texactlyhaveaclothes-rackbody.Butatasmall-scaleeventlikeGulfCon,shewasinvariablyabelleoftheball.Andwhenthefanboysdiscoveredthatshegenuinelylovedsciencefiction—thatshecouldquotechapterandversefromDeepSpaceNine,they’dpleadtohavetheirpicturestakenwithher.Sheusuallyworkedtwoorthreegigsamonthandeverydimewentrightintothebank.Shetookadeepbreathandclosedhereyes.Okay,shethought.Character.Get
intocharacter.IfI’mgoingtospendtheweekendasbikinieyecandyforpervyfanboys,noonehastoknowwhoIam.AslongasI’mwearingthisgetup,IamPrincessLeia.“Alotof theseguyshaveseriousbank,”Donnieremarked.“Ifyoucanlook
past theuniformsandtheprostheticears,youcouldlandyourselfareallyniceboyfriend.”“Justrollthecamera,Dr.Phil.”“Youdon’twantaboyfriend?”“Idon’twant to talkabout it.”Shefidgetedonthebed.Thehandcuffswere
digginguncomfortablyintothetenderskinonherwrist.“TheonlypersonIliketodependonisme.”
“Brrrrr,you’refrigidtonight!”Donniesaid,grinning.“ButI’lltellyouwhat.We’re going to get good anddrunk in the hotel bar tonight andwork throughsomeofyourissues.”He turnedoff theringeronhiscellphoneandset itdownon thenightstand
alongwiththehandcuffkey.Thenhemountedhiscameraonatripod,turnedonitstinyauxiliarylight,andlookedatthepreviewscreenagain.“Nowwhen I start, I’ll do a few seconds of you trying to yankyour hands
free.ThenI’llwalkinandstartreadingthescript.”“You’rejustgoingtostandthereandread?”“NothinginthecontractsaysIhavetomemorizethis.Andnoone’sgoingto
be looking atme, anyway. I could hold a rabid raccoon and peoplewouldn’tnotice.”Donnie shuffled through the several pages of typed, single-spaceddialogue.
Thenheclearedhisthroat.“Andwhat’swithJarJarBinks?”heannouncedinatheatricalvoice.“People
say he’s a walking, talking HappyMeal toy. But you know what? That’s aninsulttoHappyMealtoys!They’rewaymoreentertainingthanJarJar!”“Isitalllikethat?”“Prettymuch.Theguytoldmetosoundreallytickedoff.”“Yourfuryisalmostpalpable.Let’sdothisthing.”AsDonnie switched on the camera, something thumped thewall above her
head.“Whatwasthat?”Leiaasked.“Thepeoplenextdoormustbehavingaquickie,”Donniesaid.“Theirtiming
sucks.It’llruinthetake.”Amoanwaftedthroughthewall.“Wecan’twaitforthemtofinish,”Leiasaid.“Ihavetobedownstairsin—”“Iknow,Iknow,”Donniesaid.Therewasasecondthump,followedbyashort,high-pitchedscream.“Youneedtoshutthemup,”Leiasaid.Donnieturnedoffthecameraanditslightandthenstartedtowardthedoor.“Hey,Iwaskidding,”shesaid.“Don’tyoudareleavemelikethis.”“Holdtight,”Donniesaid.“I’lljustbeasecond.”He opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. He pulled the door
closedbehindhim,butitdidn’tlatch.Insteaditbouncedagainsttheframeandthendriftedopenacoupleofinches.Leia tested the handcuffs to see if she could slip free, but Donnie had
tightenedthemalltheway.Thanks,buddy,shethought.
Afewsecondstickedby.Thenafewmore.Sheglancedovertothekeyonthenightstand.Itwasjusteighteeninchesawayfromherrighthand—butitmightaswellhavebeenamile.“Donnie?”shecalledout.Hedidn’treply.Thesecondsstretchedintominutes.Leia considered calling out again, but the noises coming from the adjacent
hotelroommadeherthinkbetterofit.Thereweremoremoans—butnotthesortyou’dexpecttohearundersuchcircumstances.Therewasnopleasureinthesevoices.Theysoundedliketheyweredying—orworse.Evenmore troubling, thevoicesseemed tobemoving into thehallway.The
stretchofhallwayjustbeyondherslightlyopenhotelroomdoor.Leiadidn’tknowwhatwashappening,butsheknewshewantednopartofit.She layperfectlystill,usingayoga technique tocalmherbreathing,hoping
thatDonniewouldreturn,butgraduallyunderstandingthat,forwhateverreason,hewasn’tcomingback.I’vegotabadfeelingaboutthis,shethought.
Chapter5ErrandofMercyTheserviceelevatorwasbigandpoorlylit.Someofthehotelstaffuseditfor
cigarettebreaks,soitnormallyreekedofsmoke.ButtodayallJimcouldsmellwasGary.Or,rather,theblackviscousgooonGary’sT-shirt.Theelevator’sdoorsslidshut.Itslowlyrumbleduptowardtheseventhfloor.“You’llhavetoforgivemeforasking,”Jimsaid,“butwhatthehellhappened
toyou?”“Crazyshitiswhathappened,”Garyexplained.“Wewereheadingdown249
andwerejustinsideBeltway8whentheCommodorestoppedforgas.Youcanprobablyguesswhohadtopump.”JimpointedatGary.“Affirmative. Now the only other car in the gas station is a Volvo station
wagon.AndwhileI’mstandingtherewaitingfortheRVtotankup,Irealizethedriver of theVolvo isn’tmoving. She’s slumped over the steeringwheel.Herwindow’s down maybe six inches. The stink coming out of this car isunbelievable.”“Whatdidyoudo?”Jimasked.“Itapontheglassandthere’snoresponse.SoIfigureshe’sdead.I’vefounda
deadbody.IcalloutforMatttocomelook,andinthatsplitsecondthewomanissuddenlygrabbingme.Herhand’sthroughtheopenwindowandshelooksnuts.Her face is smashed up against the glass and her mouth is snapping like acrocodile’s. That’s about all I remember. Matt says I did some crazy, girly-lookingdanceuntilsheletgo.”“Hedidn’tgetoutandhelp?“Nah.Hesaidhefeltobligatedtostayclear,becausehe’dheardonaNational
Geographic special that you’re not supposed to screw around with nature’srhythms.SohejustsattherewatchingmewhileIfoughtoffthatcrazybitch.”“Butthestuffonyourshirt—”Garynodded.“Itwasalloverherhands.Actually,I’dswearitwascomingoutofherhands.
Likeblistersorlesionsorsomething.Theywerealloverherface,too.”JimstudiedGary’sfaceforamoment.Thenheletoutalongsigh.“ThatsoundslikeDawnoftheFreakingDead,”hesaid.“Yousureyouaren’t
jerkingmychain?”
NowitwasGary’sturntostudyJim.“Yougotme,”hesaid.“It’sallajoke.Irolledinroadkill,justsoIcouldget
you to believe my story about being attacked by an insane milf in a Volvo.Becauseeventhoughwe’veonly justmet, I live to jerkyourchain. I fantasizeaboutit.”The elevator bell rang for the seventh floor and the doors slid open. Jim
steppedoutfirsttomakesurethehallwasclear.“Allright,”hesaid.“Let’sgo.”“I wouldn’t worry about scaring the guests,” Gary told him as he emerged
fromtheelevatorandfollowedJimdownthehall.“Iwon’tbetheweirdestsightataStarTrekconvention.”“Maybe not,” Jim said as he stopped in front of room 744. “But you’re
definitelytheweirdestsmell.”He passed the room card over the door, unlocking it. The accommodations
includedtwoqueen-sizebeds,asmallbathroom,andwindowsoverlookingtheBotanyBay’svastatrium.Overeachbedhungapainting—thesamepaintingsthat could be found in themajority of the Botany Bay’s guest lodgings. OneshowedCaptainCook landing for the first time on theAustralian coast—at aplace he’d soon name Botany Bay. The other showed his sailing ship, HMSEndeavour,instorm-tossedseas.Thepaintingswerethehotel’smostobvious—andprettymuchonly—attempttoexplainitsnametopatrons.ThoughwhyahotelinHoustonwouldchooseforitsthemetheadventuresof
aneighteenth-centuryBritishseacaptainwasbeyondJim.“ThankSurak!”Garyexclaimed.“AllIwanttodoislosetheseclothes,graba
shower,andhavealong,longnap.”“Thefirsttwoareontheagenda,butnotthethird,”Jimsaidashedroppedhis
companion’s big, green duffle bag on the bed. “We’re due downstairs for theKlingonFeast.”Gary looked at himwearily and then unzipped his duffle bag, fished out a
large,cardboardshirtboxandashavingkit,anddisappearedwiththemintothebathroom.Afewmomentslaterthetoiletflushed.Thentheshowerkickedon.Jimfloppedintoatinyupholsteredchairnearthewindows.Hemadeamental
notetoaskGarytoputhisfunkyclothesinaplasticsack,sotheydidn’tstinkupthe place. He contemplated stepping out into the hallway and mooching agarbagebagfromahousekeepingcart.Thenhepushedtheideafromhismind.Whyshouldhegiveadamnifoneof
thehotel’s rooms smelled?Or, for thatmatter, if aKlingonbattle-cruiser cakewasdelivered?Orifthecateringstaffabandonedtheirposts?Noneofitwaslifeordeath.
But that businesswith thewoman in theVolvo.Thatwas life and death. Itadded to Jim’s general sense of unease. People bitten. People sick. Awomanmoaningandbitingandreekingofdeath,justlikeDawnofthe...Garyemergedfromthebathroomwearingastupendouslyill-fittingblue-and-
blackjumpsuit.ThesightutterlyderailedJim’strainofthought.“First-seasonNextGeneration,”Garysaid.“Mymommade it forme.What
doyouthink?”ItlookedtoJimliketheStarfleetrecruiterswerereallyscrapingthebottomof
thebarrel,buthetriedtoframehisappraisalmorediplomatically.“I’mprobablythewrongperson toask,”hesaid.“I feel likeIoutgrewStarTrekafewyearsago.“ThenhegesturedatGary’scrotch.“Butyoursackis,like,rightthere.”Garytuggedresolutelyatthesuit’sinseam.“Better?”heasked.“Youmightwanttodothateveryfewminutes.Justtobesafe.”Garysatdownonthecornerofthebed.“I’mwhupped,”hesaid.“Maybethezombiemilfinfectedyou,”Jimsuggested.“Dude,Ineversaidshewasazombie.That’syoutalking.”“Butthinkaboutit.Shetriedtobiteyou,”hemused.“Shewasobviouslyout
of hermind.And at least some of that slimeon your shirt is blood. I’ve seenenoughtoknowthelook.Andthesmell.”“Nowyou’refreakingmeout,”Garysaid.“I’mfreakingmyselfout,”Jimsaid.“ButIknowtwopeoplewhowerebitten
today.Oneofthemdevelopedareallystrangerashonhershoulder.Andalotofmy coworkers are calling in sick. Isn’t this how zombiemovies always start?Withlotsofminor,seeminglyunrelatedincidents?”“There’sjustoneproblemwithyourtheory,”Garysaid.“Zombiesdon’texist.
Thosemoviesarefiction.”“Iknow,”Jimsaid,“butthedataallpointstothesameconclusion.”“Thesamehighlyillogicalconclusion,”Garyclarified.“Speakingassomeone
with a really tenuous hold on reality, I think youmightwant to take yourselfofflineandundergoafulldiagnostic,ifyougetmydrift.”I’mnottheoneinaform-fittingjumpsuit,Jimthought,buthedidn’tsee the
point in debating it further.He didn’t really believe that theworldwas beingoverrunwithwalkingdead—hejustknewthathisinstinctswerebuzzing,andhewasdesperatetounderstandwhy.Butfirst,theyhadafeasttoattend.Jim and Gary left the room and headed down the hallway toward the
elevators.Garyquickenedhisstepwhenherealizeditwasalmostseveno’clock.
“Idon’tneedanyshitfromMattforbeinglate,”hesaid.“Relax,”Jimsaid.“Whydoyouputupwithhim?”“Matt can be a real jerk, but he’s already a legend in gaming. You’ll see
tomorrowattheautographingsession.He’llhavefanslinedupforhours.Iguessitgoestohisheadsometimes.”Theelevatorarrivedandtheysteppedinside.“Beingtalentedisnoexcusefor
treatingyouremployeeslikedogshit,”Jimsaid.Garysighed.“He’sactuallymyemployee.I’mhisboss.”“Seriously?”“It’s like this,” he explained. “Thinking up a fresh, hugely popular game is
hard.Designing one is even harder.Matt thought of one and also designed it.Thatmeanshe’svaluableandhas tobe tolerated.My job—oneofmybiggestjobs—iskeepingthetalentinmycompanyhappy.”The elevator descended smoothly and quickly. Its glass walls offered a
panoramicviewoftheBotanyBay’svastlobby.“You’reaprofessionalpunchingbag,”Jimsaid.“Anextremelywell-paidprofessionalpunchingbag,”Garysaid.“ButI’llgive
Mattsomecredit:atleasthedoesn’tmakestuffup.HesaysI’mfat,andIam.HesaysIcan’tgetadate,andIcan’t.HesaysIlivewithmymother,andIdo.”“Ifyou’resowellpaid,whydon’tyougetyourownplace?”Gary’sfacesuddenlygrewserious.“Look,Mom’ssixty-sevenyearsoldandshe’sbeenconfinedtoawheelchair
sinceIwasinhighschool.Eversince...theaccident.ShetellsmeIshouldgetmyownplace, livemyown life,but Ican’t justdumpher ina resthomeandwalkaway.Iwanttotakecareofher,thewaysheusedtotakecareofme.Doyouunderstand?”“Yeah,”Jimsaid.“Actually,Ido.”“Awesome.BecauseIjustmadeallthatshitup.Mymomishealthyashell.I
livewithherbecauseI’masocialcripple.”Jimsmiled.“AndIthoughtMattwasajerk,”hesaid.Theelevatordinged,announcingtheirarrivalonthelobbyfloor.Garystarted
toexit,butJimstoppedhimwithanarmacrossthechest.“Sack,”hesaid.Garyadjustedhimselfoncemore,andthentheywereontheirway.
Chapter6WinkofanEyeJimpointedGarytowardtheGweagalRoomandthendetouredtotheBotany
Bay’sfrontdesk.HefoundJaniceatthecounter,allbyherself.Andnonetoohappyaboutit.“Whyareyoustillhere?”heasked.“Dwayne hasn’t come in,” Janice said. “And his phone’s out of service, or
something.Ican’treachhim.”“Isn’tthereanyoneelse?”“WouldIbestandinghereiftherewas?”JanicegaveJimalong,appraisinglook.Hethoughthecouldhearthewheels
inherheadturning.“Isupposeyoucouldfillin,”shefinallysaid.“Can’t,”Jimsaid.“Ihaveathing.”“Oh,athing,”Janicerepeatedtestily.“What’shername?”“It’s not like that. My sister is here for GulfCon. I’m meeting her at the
FestivalofKlingons,orwhateverit’scalled.Ican’tgetoutofit.”Hebackedhiswaydownthehallbeforeshecouldpresshimfurther.“Waytotakeonefortheteam,”shecalledafterhim.Jimhadno ideawhat tookplace at aKlingonFeast, but he had assumed it
wouldbealittlelivelierthanthescenehediscoveredintheGweagalRoom.ItwasinoneoftheBotanyBay’ssmallermeetingareasandseated150guestsforreceptions, banquets, and corporate functions. Tonight, Jim pegged the headcountatfifty,sixtytops.Mostwereeitherhuddledaroundthebarorclusteredintightgroupsattables.AfewworevariousiterationsofStarfleetcrewuniforms.Therestweredoneupinleatherorfauxleatherandcarryingfakeblades.In one corner, several Klingons were engaged in a head-butting contest,
slammingtheircranialcreststogetherlikeruttingmountaingoats.Andoverbythe bar, someone pounded out a monotonous Klingon opera on a synthesizerkeyboard.Afewonlookerssangthelibrettoinguttural,artificiallylowbaritones.Jim’sunderstandingoftheKlingonlanguagewassketchy,butherecognizedthewords“fight,”“kill,”and“death”inthelyrics.Hesurveyed thebanquet table, ladenwithTerranapproximationsofvarious
Klingon delicacies. The sights and smells ranged from exotic to flat-outdisgusting.Among themorepalatable itemswerekrada legs (smoked turkey),
pipiusclaw(conventionalcrab),andheartoftarg(aquivering,livid,redJell-Omold).Twomen in fullKlingondragbelliedup to thebuffet.Onegrabbedamock
kradalegandtookaheartybite.“Howisit?”Jimasked.“Bland,”theKlingonreplied.“Needsmorecrapoksauce.”Jimgrabbedwhathehopedwasanordinarycheeseburgerandthensetofffor
thelarge,roundtablewhereMatt,Rayna,Gary,andT’Pocwerealreadyeating.SittingacrossfromthemwereaknotofKlingons.AssoonasMattcaughtsightofJim,heglaredathim.“Dude,whatkindofshitholeisthisplace?”heasked.“Excuseme?”Jimsaid.“This is theworst Klingon Feast in five years of GulfCon. Look at all the
emptychairs.Youcan’tevengetaplateofgagh.”Nowthatwasstrange,Jimthought.SarahCornellhadseemeddeterminedto
pickup thosegummyworms,butapparentlyshehadnevermade itback fromthewarehouseclub.“Wewereexpectinguptothreethousandwalk-ins,”Jimsaid.“Threethousand,myass,”Mattsaid.Jimsurveyedtheroom.Thegatheringdidn’tlookveryfestive.Fromwhathe
could tell, there were only two distracted-looking servers. Ordinarily, for adinnerbanquetinahallthislarge,therewouldbeseven.“Maybeeveryonehasconplague,”saidRayna.“Toomanypeople,toomany
germs,toomuchalcohol,andnotenoughsleep.IhaditprettybadinSanDiegolastyear.Ispentthelasttwodaysofthatshowflatonmyback,fightingavirus.”“Ormaybe,”Garysaid,delayinghisresponseformaximumdramaticimpact,
“it’sthezombies.”“What?”RaynaandT’Pocexclaimedsimultaneously.“Jim was talking about it earlier,” Gary said. “He thinks Houston’s been
overrunbyzombies.”“I didn’t say that,” Jim corrected. “I just said a zombie outbreak would
explain someof the strange things that I’ve seen today.Twoofmycoworkerswerebitten.Thecopshavebeencrazybusy.SomepsycholadysmearedbloodalloverGary’sshirt.Thisisnotanormalday.”“Youknowzombiesdon’texist,right?”Raynaasked.“I’mnot the onewith antennae sticking out ofmy head,” he reminded her.
“Don’taccusemeofhavinganoveractiveimagination.”Itwasaslightlyawkwardmoment,butT’Pocjumpedintodefusethetension.“Bringonthebraaaaains!”shecheered.“I’dratherdealwiththeundeadthan
abunchofBabylon5fans!”Everyoneatthetable,Klingonsincluded,voicedtheirheartyapproval.“Mostsci-ficonventionscoverallthebasesthesedays,”T’PoctoldJim.“But
GulfCon’sjustforTrekkers.”“Nowthat’ssomethingI’veneverunderstood,”Jimsaid.“Istherereallyany
differencebetweenaTrekkerandaTrekkie?”Thetableeruptedinconversation.Severalpeopletriedtoansweratonce,but
Rayna’svoicewonout.“Everybody’s got their own opinion about this,” she said. “Some people
consider‘Trekkie’tobeaderogatorytermcoinedbythosewhodon’tunderstandthescene.TheythinkitdenotessomeonewithoutsocialskillswhoglomsontoStarTrekasasortofsubstitutelife.”“Trekkie,”Mattshouted,pointingatGary.“Asshole,”Garyresponded,pointingbackatMatt.“Igetit,”Jimsaid.“Sowhat’saTrekker?”“A Trekker is someone who tries to live by the philosophy and ideals
espousedintheStarTrekuniverse,”Raynasaid.“Likewhat?”Jimsaid.“Paintyourselfblue?Wearshinyclothes?”“Like,believeintheperfectibilityofthehumanrace,”Raynacountered.“Orthattomorrowwillbebetterthantoday,”oneoftheKlingonsadded.“Orthatbyworkinghard,wecanbringrealandlastingchange,”Garysaid.Jimresistedtheurgetolaughattheirnaïveté.Thereweretimeswhenhefelt
compelled to describe the horrors he’d witnessed in Afghanistan. Decimatedvillages. Shattered limbs and burned bodies. Little children who looked asbroken and shell-shocked as grizzled combat veterans. These sights didn’t fillhimwithconfidenceaboutthefutureofthehumanrace.Butasusual,hekepthismouthshut,andtheconversationturnedtoothersubjects:theGammaQuadrant,theVoyager, LeonardNimoy’s career as a director.He decided to get up andwalk to the bar. The two servers working the roomwere running themselvesragged,andJimknewhe’dgetadrinkquickerifheorderedithimself.“You want a Klingon martini?” the harassed-looking bartender asked him.
“They’reginandvermouthwithashotofbloodwine.”“What’sinthebloodwine?”“Everclearandredfoodcoloring.It’sreallypopulartonight.”“IthinkI’lljusthaveaBud,”Jimdecided.“Makeitapitcher.”He returned to the table and offered the beer to the group.His new friends
cheered—allexceptMatt,whoappearedpreoccupiedwithwatchingtheentranceto theGweagal Room.After everyone had a glass, Jim askedMatt if hewaslookingforsomeoneinparticular.
“I’m supposed to meet a Klingon,” Matt explained. “He makes edgedweapons. I ordered a bat’leth from him. All custom work. Made a fifteen-hundred-dollardownpayment.”“Iknowthatguy,”Jimsaid.“IthinkImethimrightbeforeyoushowedup.”“Well,hewassupposedtobeheretenminutesago,”Mattsaid.“Ifhestolemy
downpaymentI’mgoingtokickhisass.”T’Pocansweredwithanamusedsnort.“HaveyouseenMartock?He’s, like,
sevenfeettall.Theguy’smuscleduplikeanAugment.”“Andhe’sgotenoughknivesandswordstoarmanentireboardingparty,”Jim
added.“He’llcarveyouuplikeaservingofbregitlung.”Laughterrippledaroundthetable.“Screwyouguys,”Mattsaid.“I’macentralcharacter.Nothingbadisgoingto
happentome.”“You’reawhat?”Jimasked.“I’m the star of this show,”Matt explained. “Flag personnel in the various
StarTrekseriesnevergetkilled.”“Whataboutme?”Garysaid.“CanIgetkilled?”“MuchasIhatetoadmitit,you’reprobablysafe,too,”Mattsaid.“You’rethe
comicfoil.Thefunnycharactersalwayslivetoseeanotherepisode.”“Andme?”Raynaasked.Mattfurrowedhisbrow.“It doesn’t look good,” he said. “The commander’s romantic interests are
alwaystransitory.You’reslatedtodieinahorrifyingfinalplottwist.”Mattmovedonsoquicklythathedidn’tnoticetheirritatedlookonRayna’s
face.“IknowwhereIstand,”T’Pocsaid.“I’masemiregularcharacter,likeGuinan
onNextGen.Idon’tevenhavetodie.Icouldvanishtomorrowandthingswouldgoonwithoutme.”“Thataboutsumsitup,”Mattsaid.Jimtookaswigofhisbeer.“Thinkaboutthis,”heproposed.“Whatifyou’re
all extras? Do you know how many starships, with their captains and theiryeomenand their crustydoctorsand their comic reliefguys,gotblown tobitsduring variousStar Trek episodes?Maybe you’re one of those crews.Maybeyou’realljustphaserfodderforsomeothersetofcharactersthattrulymattertothestory.”JimtookanotherdrinkandlettheTrekkiesmullitover.“Dude,that’sdeep,”Garyfinallysaid.“Wegoaroundthinkingwe’rethebig
dogs,butmaybewe’reall justcrewmenon theUSSConstellation or theUSSBellerophonortheUSSYamato.Weexistsimplytodie.Wemakesomeminor
plotpoint,thengetdispatched.”“Heavy,”T’Pocsaid.“Bullshit,”Mattsaid.“I’mnotanextra.I’minthegoddamnopeningcredits.”Jimwas still formulatinga responsewhena femaleKlingon returned to the
tablefromthebar,cursingunderherbreath.“Party’s over,” she said. “They just ran out of bloodwine and they aren’t
gettinganymore.”“What?”Mattsaid.HedirectedaglareatJim,asifhewerepersonallyresponsible.“Finewithme,”Garyshrugged.“Ineedsomesleep.”“Youcansleepwhenyou’redead,”Mattsaid.“Let’sgouptomyroomand
par-tay.”Jimcouldn’tbelievethatanyonewasstillusingtheword“partay”todescribe
anexperiencethatwassupposedtobeenjoyable.EventheKlingonsatthetableseemedskeptical.Theylookedateachother,thenattheirwatches.“We’rejustgoingtocallitanight,”oneofthemsaid.“Weweresupposedto
dothebat’lethdemonstration,buttwoofourguysgotcaughtupinariot.Downbythetrainstation,Iguess.Theywantedmetopickthemup,butnowayamIdrivinginthistraffic.”“Didyousayriot?”Jimasked.“Theysaidriot.Itsoundedlikeariot.”“Maybe it’s the zombies,” T’Poc laughed. “Or wait—maybe it’s vampires!
Thesun’ssetandnowthey’refinallymakingtheirmove!”GaryandRaynalaughed.Jimdidn’t.He knew people didn’t toss out the word “riot” in idle conversation. Cell
phonereceptionwasbad,butitwasn’tthatbad.Thekidwiththetoyphaserhadcomplainedthathistelevisiondidn’twork.Therewasnosignal.Juststatic.Jim’sinstinctswerescreaming.Hestillcouldn’tgraspthethreat’struenature,
buthesenseditssilhouette.Anditwasenormous.HetoldRaynathathewasgoingtoswingbythefrontdesktocheckwiththe
manager.“Youdothat,”Mattreplied.“TellthemthattheVIPinroom754ishavinga
meltdownabouttheshittyservice.Usethoseexactwords,okay?”“Gotit,”Jimsighed.“Meltdown.Shittyservice.”Theyrosefromthetableenmasse.Theirmovetriggeredageneralevacuation
ofthebanquet,witheveryoneheadingsomewhatlist-lesslytowardthedoors.“Youwillcomeby,right?”Raynasaid.“Countonit,”Jimsaid.“WatchyourselfuntilIgetthere.”“Watchmyself?WhatamIwatchingfor?”
“Trouble.”“Areyouokay?You’reactingkindofparanoid.”“Something’sgoingon. I’mnotsaying it’szombies,but it’ssomething. I’ve
feltitallday.Now,suddenly,it’sworse.Sokeepyourheadonaswivel.”He watched as the group started down the hallway to the lobby. He hung
aroundforaminute,waitingtoseeifanyonewouldappeartocleanupthemess.Noonedid.Eventhetwoserversseemedtohavevanished.Finallyhesteppedout into thehallway, turnedout the lightsand locked the
doorbehindhim.Jimclosedhiseyesandthenslowlyrolledhisneckfromrighttoleft.Heopened them just in time to seeMartock runningoutof themen’s room
and heading toward the lobby.Hewas still in full armor and fullmakeup butmovedwithanurgencythatdidn’t look likeplay-acting.Jimwasabout tocallouttohimwhenhenoticedsomethingonthecarpetedfloor.Somethingred.Somethingwet.Footprints.Jimfollowedthemtothedooroftherestroom.Itwaslocatedhalfwaydown
the long hallway that linked the lobby to the Endeavour Room. He steppedcautiouslyup to thedoor and, not knowingwhat else to do, knocked.Nooneanswered.He took a deep breath and pushed it open. It resisted slightly. He heard
somethingmetallicscrapeacrossthefloor.“Hello?”hecalledasheentered.“Everythingokayinhere?”Aquickglancedownwardrevealedthateverythingwas,infact,notokay.The
scrapingsoundhadcomefromabat’lethlyingonthefloor.JimfiguredMartockhaddroppeditonhiswayout.Thebladewascoveredwithblood.Jimsteppedoveritandenteredthebathroom,backtrackingovertheKlingon’s
crimsonfootprints.“Anybodyinhere?”hecalled.Abankoftoiletstalls tohisrightpreventedhimfromgainingafullviewof
theroom.Jimsteppedaroundthemcautiouslyuntilhereachedtherowofsinksandurinalsintheback.A blood-drenched body lay in a thick, red-black pool of rapidly congealing
blood.“Hotelsecurity,”Jimsaid,inchingcloser.“Areyouokay?”He realized thebodywore the samedirtyathletic shoeshe’d spottedon the
womansleepinginMartock’sbooth.
Thenherealizedthebodywasmissingahead.Jimreeledbacktowardthesinks,managingtocatchonetobalancehimself.
Fighting nausea, he tried to put everything together in hismind.TheKlingonhaddecapitatedherwithhisbat’leth,thendroppeditatthedoorandrunaway.Heturnedaroundandstaredatthemirror.Therewasalarge,crimsonsmearin
themiddleoftheglass.Jimlookedintothesinkbeneathit.Thebloodyfaceofayoungwomanstaredupathim.Therationalpartofhismindtoldhimthattheforceofthedecapitationmust
havebouncedtheheadoffthemirrorandplunkeditintothebasin.Theprimalpartshoutedforhimtogetthehelloutofthere.Now.Foramoment,reasonkeptcontrol.Jimgazeddownattheface.Therewasan
odd,purplishgrowthrightinthemiddleofherfore-head—justlikethewelthe’dseenonSarah’sshoulder,onlylarger,roughlytwoinchesindiameter.Otherwisehecouldswearitwastheexactsamemark.Jimleanedclosertostudyit.Suddenlythegrowthpoppedopen,revealingaglaring,fullydevelopedeye.It
peereddirectlyathim.All pretense of reason fled. Jim leapt away, caromed off the bathroom stall
behindhimandranoutthedoorasfastashisunsteadylegscouldcarryhim.Hedidn’tstoprunninguntilhereachedthefrontdesk.
Chapter7ATasteofArmageddonJimfoundJanicestandingbehindthecounter,utterlyalone.“Callthecops,”hetoldher.“Now.”“Thephonesaren’tworking,”shesaid.“Ican’tgetthroughtoanyone.”“Didyoutryyourcell?”“Noservice.Nothingworks.”Jimgaspedforbreath.“Dexter,”hesaid.“IsDexterstillaround?”“Idon’tknow.”“WhataboutOscar?”“Hewentoutfronttwentyminutesago.”“Why?”“Because I asked him to. Ever since the sunwent down, people have been
walkingoutsidetogetbetterreceptionontheircellphones.”“So?”“After a while I realized that none of them were coming back.” Jim’s
breathingbegan to steady.He slowlygothimselfunder control.Ashedid, herealizedthatsomethingaboutJanicehadchanged.Shedidn’tseemangryorput-out or frustrated anymore. She seemed frightened. Profoundly and deeplyfrightened.“Oscardidn’tcomeback,either,”shewhispered.Jimlookedouttheglassdoors.Allhecouldseewasdarkness.“Allright,”hesaid.“I’lltakeaquicklook—”“No!”Janicesaid.“Didn’tyouhearwhatIjustsaid?Nobodycomesback!”Jimhesitated.Thecrimescenehe’djustwitnessedhadrattledhimtohiscore.
ButseeingJanice—confident,dogmatic,in-controlJanice—comingungluedwasalmostworse.“It’llbeokay,”hesaid.“I’lljuststickmyheadoutside.You’llneverlosesight
ofme.Sittight.”Jimheadedtowardthedoors.Thenhestoppedandturnedaround.“Onemore thing,”he said. “I needyou todome a favor.My sister,Rayna
Pike,isstayingontheseventhfloor.Iwantyoutocallherandtellhertostayinher room. She needs to stow her Star Trek crap for a while and look afterherself.”
Janicestaredbackathim.Hewasn’tsureifanyofhiswordshadregistered,and therewasn’t time to repeat them.Hestepped through the first setofglassdoors,intothemainentrance’sair-lock.Thedoorsshutbehindhim,leavingJim,finally,withafairlydecentviewof
theoutdoors.TheBotanyBaywas locatedon theedgeofdowntownHouston,justminutesawayfromthecity’sconventioncenterandfinancialdistrict.Asidefrom the occasional fanboy convention, the hotel mostly catered to businesstravelers.Thesurroundingneighborhoodofferedlittle in thewayof tourismornightlife.TherewasanApplebee’sdowntheroad,andaStarbucksthatclosedateight o’clock, but the rest of the avenue was given over to generic officebuildings and parking garages. Tonight the streets and sidewalkswere empty,justlikeanyothernight.Jimglancedbackintothehotel.Janicewasbehindthedesk,staringathim.He
wavedather,smiled,thenopenedtheexteriordoorandsteppedoutside.Ablastofhot,humidGulfCoastairwashedoverhim.Helookedwest,then
east,andsawnothingunusual.Offinthedistance,maybetwoblocksaway,hemade out a pair of pedestrians. But somethingwaswrong, and it took him amomenttorealizewhatwasmissing.Smokers.Onanynormalnight,onewouldfindaknotofguestsandstaffers
puffing away in front of the hotel, near the entrance to the alley where he’dspottedRodriguezearlierintheday.ItwastheBotanyBay’sunofficialnicotinerefuge.Middayormidnight,rainorshine,therewerealwayssmokers.Exceptnow.Jimtookafewhesitantstepstowardthealley.Henoticedapackofcigarettes
lyingontheground.AndaniPhone.Therewasalsoapurse.Andasmearofblackliquidthatmighthavebeenmotoroil.Jimtookafewmorecareful,quietsteps.Hewascloseenoughtohearnoises
comingfromthealley.Footstepsshuffling.Voicesgrunting.Somethingripping.Thehomelessmenandwomenhe’dglimpsedearlierintheday,hidinginthe
shadowsatthefarendofthealley,werenowjustaroundthecornerfromhim.Andtheirnumbershadgrown.Theysoundedlikeanangrymob.For a moment he contemplated simply confronting them. Until he
rememberedthat thiswasprobablywhatOscarhaddone.Oscar theex-MarinewhowasnowMIA.Thisisn’tinmyjobdescription,Jimthought.I’mjustthegoddamnbellhop.Heretracedhisstepstothehotelentrance,keepingacarefuleyeonthealley’s
mouth.Hewasalmost to thedoorswhenhe realized the twopedestrianswerenow much closer, less than a hundred yards away. They were walking sostrangely.Staggering, really. Just like zom—No, he thought.Rayna andGary
wereright.Zombiesdidnotexist.But these two people—whatever they were—were definitely staggering
towardhim.They’dseenhimandwerecominghiswayasfastastheirwobblylegscouldcarrythem.AsJimwatched,hebecameawareofgunshotsinthedistance—thepop-pop-
pop of a semiautomatic pistol, followedby a staccatoblast that couldonlybeproducedbyafullyautomaticAK-47assaultrifle.Allofasudden,HoustonsoundedlikeA-BadonaSaturdaynight.
Chapter8ThatWhichSurvivesJimcouldn’trememberthelasttimeJaniceBohicagreetedhimwithasmile.
But tonight,whenhereenteredthelobby,shedidjust that.Sheseemedalmosthystericallyrelievedtoseehim.“Youcameback,”shesaid.“We’vegotaproblem,”hesaid.“Isn’t thereabuttonunder thecounter that
locksthesedoors?”“Yes,butit’sonlyforemergencies.”JimnearlysaidsomethingmeanbutlookedintoJanice’seyesandrestrained
himself. Everyone in the hotel would need to stay calm. As soon as peoplepanicked,theywouldbenohelpatall.“This is an emergency,” he said, keeping his voice under tight control. “I
guessyoucouldcallitariot.Andacoupleofthe...oftherioters...sawmeandthey’reheadingthisway.Weneedtosecurethedoors.”Janicereachedbeneaththemarblecountertopandpunchedseveraldigitsinto
thekeypad. “Ihaven’tused this code since theAstros lost theWorldSeries. Ithinkit’s2063.”Thekeypadrespondedwiththreeaffirmativechirpsandthefrontdoorsbolted
withaloudclunk.Jimpulledonthethreeinteriordoors.Theywereallsecure.Heassumedtheouteroneswerelocked,too.Troublewas,theywereallmadeofglass.“ShouldIlocktheotherdoors,too?”Janiceasked.“Whatotherdoors?”Jimsaid.“Allofthem.AlloftheBotanyBay’sexteriordoors.”“Youcandothat?Nobodytoldmetherewasacodeforthat.”“RightafterSeptemberEleventh,thehotelgotcodesforeverything.”“Usethem,”Jimsaid.“Lockusin.”Janice punched another set of digits into the keypad and the machine
responded with three more chirps. Then Jim escorted her to Dexter’s office.Halfwaythroughthewarrenofcubicles,Janicestumbledandfell toherknees.Herbreathinggrewshallowandragged.Foramoment,Jimwonderedifshewashavingaheartattack.Hekneltdownbesideher.“Areyouallright?”Janicepushedhimaway.“Ijustneedafewminutes.“Whenshefinallylooked
upagain,sheexaminedthesurroundingdesksasifsearchingforagoodplacetohide.“Wedon’thavetimeforthis,”Jimsaid,forcinghisarmaroundherwaistand
helpinghertoherfeet.“Canyouwalk?”“I’mfine,”sheinsisted.Buthekepthisarmaroundherwaist,anyway.Her footstepswereslowand
unsteady.Asthoughshewasquiteliterallybucklingbeneaththepressure.Dexter’s office was a rat’s nest of forms, paperwork, and Dallas Cowboys
memorabilia,butitalsocontainedafewitemsthatJimdesperatelywanted.Hefoundthemsittinginacase—acasethat,tohisgreatrelief,someonehadopenedandleftunlocked.Inside were two exotic-looking weapons. Their black-and-yellow color
schememadethemlooklikegiganticbumblebees.Butwithamuchworsesting,Jimthoughtashescoopedthemup.“Whatarethose?”Janiceasked.“Taser X3s,” Jim explained. “The latest and greatest in less-than-lethal
ordnance.”Dexterhadbraggedabouttheircapabilitiesonnumerousoccasions;theyhadlasersights,built-inLEDflashlights,andatriple-shotcapacitysothattheusercouldfrythreedifferentpeoplesimultaneously.JimconsideredshowingJanice how theX3sworked and thenmaybegivingher one.But the flusteredlookinhereyestoldhimthatwasn’tanoption.Inherpresentstate,Janicemightevendecidetotaserhim.Jimlocatedanemptyblackbackpackandstuffedoneoftheweaponsinside.
Theotherheplacedinaholsterandlatchedtohisbelt.Thenhefoundtheblack,circularSquadCharger that recharged theguns’batterypacks. Itheldsix fullytopped-offpowermagazines.Jimslidoneintohispersonalweaponandputtherest into thebackpack.Henoticed the toyphaser sittingonDexter’sdesk anddecidedtograbit,too.Anythingevenresemblingaweaponseemedcomfortingnow.“Thisfeelslikeadream,”Janicesaid.“Canwegonow?”“Onelastthing,”Jimsaid.Hewenttothedesk,openedthebottomdrawer,andreachedallthewaytothe
backtotheplacewhereDexter—inflagrantviolationofhotelregulations—hida9mmGlock17pistol.Usually,thatis.ButtonightallJimfoundafteranincreasinglyfranticsearch
wasaspare17-roundmagazine,whichhestuffedintohisbackpack.“WhenwasthelasttimeyousawDexter?”Jimasked.“A fewhours ago.Therewas a disturbance on the third floor, but he never
cameback.”
“Whattimewasthat?”“Justafterfive,Ithink.”Jimcheckedhiswatch.Itwaseightthirty,whichmeantDexterhadbeenout
of contact for three hours and change. Maybe—hope-fully—he wasincapacitatedsomewhere.Thealternativewastoohorribletoconsider.“Dexter,canyouhearme?”hesaidintohiswalkie-talkie.“Areyouokay?”Hetriedtwicemore,andthenputoutageneralcallforsomeone,anyone,to
respond.Therewerenoreplies.Jimclosedhiseyesand rubbedhis temples.Hehad togetupstairsand find
Rayna.Heneededtoseeifperhaps,justperhaps,Dexterwasstillaround.Andthentogethertheywouldsetupadefensiveperimeterandfigureoutaplan.Heoffereda silentprayer that thingswouldn’tget anyworse.Aprayer that
wasimmediatelyanddecisivelyrebuffed.“What’sthatnoise?”Janiceasked.Itwascomingfromthelobby.Someonewaspoundingonthedoors.Pounding
sohardthattheyrattled.HeglancedoveratJanice.Herfacehadgonepaleandherpupilsweredilated.
Herreasonwasnowinfullretreat,routedbythedininthelobby.Therewasnowaytobringheralong,notunlesshewaswillingtocarryher.“Janice,Ineedyoutodomeafavor,”Jimsaidcalmly.Shenoddedeversoslowly.“IwantyoutolockthisdoorwhenIleaveandwaitforme.Don’tgooutfront,
don’twanderaround.Justsitinthischairandwait.Willyoudothat?”Anotherslownod.“Great.Iwon’tbelong,allright?”Nonodthistime.Justastare.“Okay,”Jimrepliedonherbehalf.“I’llberightback.”Heshoulderedthebackpackandwalkedoutthedoor.“No,”Janicewhisperedafterhedeparted.“Youwon’t.”
Chapter9HopeandFearAsJimwalkedthroughthehotel’sofficestowardthefrontdesk,thebanging
fromtheentrancegrewlouderandlouder.Hegotdownonhishandsandknees,crawledtotheendofthecheck-incounter,andpeekedaroundthecorner.Hecouldjustmakeoutwhathefiguredwerethetwopedestrianshe’dseenon
the street—a young man and woman, both fairly well dressed, lookingsomethinglikeacouplethathadbeenoutonadate.Nowtheypoundedontheglasswithbloodyfists,creating large,smearingcirclesofredandblack.Theirloud,strangemoansmadeJim’sneckhairstandup.Butthatwasn’ttheworst.Thereweren’t just twoof themanymore.Therewereat leastadozen,all in
roughlythesamesorryconditionasthefirstpair.One,amiddle-agedmanwearingtheremnantsofaUPSuniform,hadtaken
what looked like a point-blank shotgun blast. A vast, bloody crater had beenscalloped out of his chest. Another seemed to have extricated herself from aflamingcarwreck.Herclotheswerecharredandsmoking,herhairsingedaway,her body covered with livid-red burns the exact shade of barbecued brisket.Crawlingunderneaththemwasacorpsewithnolegs,draggingitselfalongonitshands.Nosuchthingaszombies,myass,Jimthought.He knew now that his instincts had been right all along. Something had
happened.ThiswasDawnoftheFreakingDead.Theendoftheworldwasuponthem,andhispoorkidsisterhadnoidea.Heforcedhimselftofocushisthoughts.Onethingatatime.First,findDexter
and secure the perimeter. Then get the remaining guests—especially Rayna—intoasafepositionwheretheycouldplantheirnextmove.Jim scuttled down to the far end of the check-in counter. He took a deep
breath,calmedhimself, thenstoodupandwalked,asnonchalantlyaspossible,towardtheelevators.Theywereonlyaboutahundredfeetaway,butitfeltlikeahundredmiles.Maybetheywon’tnotice,hethoughtashesteppedoutintotheopen.Theynoticed.Jim’ssuddenappearancesetoffachorusofmoans.Theglass
took an even more vigorous pummeling, but he knew it would hold. It wasbullet-resistantandhalfaninchthick.Thezombiescouldbeatonitalldaytono
effect.Theonlythingcapableofbreakingtheglasswouldbeamovingvehicle,butdrivingoneseemedbeyondthecapabilitiesofthegangoutfront.Jim’slegsfeltlikenoodlesasheclosedthelastfewstepstotheelevators.He
pressedthecallbuttonandwaited.Andwaited.Atfirsthetriednottolookattheentrance.Butcuriosity—andhisownsense
ofself-preservation—wonout.Ifoneof thosethingssomehowgot through,hedidn’twanttohavehisbacktoit.So,whiletheelevatorstooktheirsweettimedescendingtothegroundfloor,
helooked.Whenhedid,hisstomachrolled.It’s thegang from thealley, Jim thought.It’s all the peoplewhowent out to
smokeortomakeaphonecallandnevercameback.AmongthecrowdherecognizedKaiOpaka—orrather,amiddle-agedwoman
dressedintheelaboratevestmentsofBajor’ssupremespiritualleader.Sheworeapurplerobeandheaddress,butthelowerhalfofherjawhadbeentornaway,openingherneckandexposing theknobby ridgesofher spine.And therewastheboywho’dbeenplayingwiththetoyphaser,theonewhocomplainedaboutthebadTVreception.Someonehadplungedacarvingknifeintothesideofhisneck,andyetstillhewalked.Anelevatorannounced its arrivalwithading. Jimcouldbarelyhear itover
thenoisefromthecrowd.Hesteppedaboardandhitthebuttonforthethirdfloor.Glancingaround,he
found everything was still as it should be. No broken glass, no blood on thefloor,noabandonedpersonalitems.Thedoorsslidshut,silencingthemoaningandthepounding.Initsplace,all
hecouldhearwasNichelleNicholssinginghercoverof“That’sLife.”Everything felt normal. For amoment—and for the last time—Jim allowed
himself the luxury of imagining that perhaps things weren’t as bad as theyseemed.That feeling lasted exactly as long as it took the elevator to reach the third
floor,andforitsdoorstoopen.
Chapter10DaggeroftheMindBackon the first floor, Janicesat inDexter’soffice, impatiently tappingher
foot. She stared at the clock on the wall, watching the second hand sweepthroughminuteafteruneventfulminute.Theinterludeallowedhertimetothink.Which, inhercurrentstate,wasthe
mostdangerousthingshecoulddo.Thehotel staff hadvanished.Sohadmost of the guests.Thephones didn’t
work.Therewere riots—or something like riots—in the streets.Andnow Jimhadleftheralone.Shelookedattheclockagain.Everytimetheredsecondhandreachedthetop
of the dial face, the minute hand snapped forward with a pronounced click.She’dnevernoticedthatsoundbefore.Howcouldshehavenevernoticed?Asshestaredattheclock,hersubconsciousmindmadeadecision.Insteadof
trying tomake senseof thewhirl of events, it simplypushed themaway.Theevening’sgrowing list ofhorrors andmysteriesweregathered intoa tightballandsealedinsideabrittleshellofdenial.Denialanddelusion.“I’mthedaymanager,”Janicetoldherself,asifsuddenlyremembering.“I’ve
beendoingmyjobforseventeenyearsandI’vegotahoteltorun.”Everythingelsewasdeleted.Sheturnedherattentiontotheracketinthelobby.Peoplewantedin.Paying
guests.Theywereprobablyangry.And itwasher responsibility tohelp.Oratthe very least explainwhat waswrong. Communicationwas often the key tosoothingunhappyguests.Peoplewere surprisingly forgivingof subpar servicewhen theyunderstood thecircumstances.Thebestway toearn lotsofone-starreviews on travel Web sites was to keep your customers in the dark aboutproblems.Yethereshewas, thedaymanager,parked inachairbecausesomekid told
hernottomove.Itdidn’tmakesense.Noneofitmadeanysense.Allshehadtodowastakecharge.Janicegotup,tookadeepbreath,andgatheredherself.“Everythingwillbe fine,” she thought.“I justhave to face theproblemand
dealwithit.”
SheleftDexter’soffice,walkedslowlythroughtheBotanyBay’sabandonedadministrativecenterandintothelobby.Herarrivalsetoffathunderousroundofmoaningandpounding.Shewalkedup to the interiordoors.Closeenough togetagood lookat the
crowdoutside.ShesawseveralofthecostumedStarTrekpeople.Theylookedlikethey’dbeeninsomesortofaccident.HermoodimprovedabitwhenshespottedOscar.“Oscar!”sheshoutedoverthedin.“Areyouallright?Wherehaveyoubeen?”Oscar, sheplainly saw,wasnot all right.Therewasbloodalloverhis face,
andsomethinghadopeneduphistorsoandcausedhisintestinestospillout.Thegrayentrailsdraggedbehindhimlikeatangledgardenhose.ItoccurredtoJanicethatheshouldseekmedicalattention,notstandoutside
poundingontheglasswithhisbrawnyarms.Clearlysomethinghadtobedone.Shethoughtofhertraining,ofthemanagementseminarssheattendedtwicea
yearatthecompanyheadquartersinCharleston.Thensheclearedherthroatandbegantospeak.“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sorry to announce that your rooms are
unavailable,”shetoldthebloodyhorrorsclamberingoutside.“TheBotanyBayHotelandConferenceCenterwasfoundedonthepromiseofdeliveringexcellentcustomerservicetoourguests.Irealizewearefailingtodeliveronthatpromise,andIaskforyourpatienceandforgivenessasweworktorectifythissituation.”Janicewasansweredwithmoremoans.Andwithsomethingelse.She heard it not with her ears, but with her mind. Not words but rather a
powerfulurgepercolatingupfromthedarkregionsofherbrain.Somethingwasinthere,tellinghertodothings.Implantinginherastrong,almostprimalurgetounlockthedoors.ToallowtheBotanyBay’spoor,shamefullyinconveniencedgueststoenter.Shewonderedwherethesuggestionmighthavecomefrom.Wassomeonein
the mob speaking to her? She looked from one bloody face to the next. Allseemed to share the same peculiar type of growth, either on their faces orshouldersor, inonecase, right in themiddleof thechest.Thebulbousmasseslookedlikebig,whiteeyeballs,butwithcrimsonpupilsinthemiddle.Allofthehundredorsopeopleoutsideseemedtohavethem.Andeveryoneofthoseeyeballswasstaringather.JaniceobservedawomandressedinaredStarfleetuniform.Pressedagainst
theglassbythethrong,shehappenedtobethecreatureclosesttoher.Therewasaneyeballsproutingoutofher rightshoulder.Janice lookedat itclosely.Very
closely.Shegazedatitforseveralmoments,transfixed.The eyeball was trying to make contact with her. It wanted her to do
something,butstruggledtofindthewords.Finally,byransackingwhatremainedofitshost’smind,itmadeitspoint.Wemeanyounoharm, itwhispered to Janice’s fragile consciousness.Lower
yourshields.
Chapter11DevilintheDarkAs the elevator arrived at the third floor, it occurred to Jim that he should
unclip the Taser from his belt. Just in case. He switched off the safety andchecked tomakesure theweaponwas loaded—and found that itwasn’t.He’dforgottentosnapinadartcartridge.Amomentlaterthedoorsslidopen.Theelevatoremittedadingloudenough
toalerteveryone—andeverything—inthegeneralarea.Outof instinct,hepointedtheweaponanyway.Not thathecouldseemuch.
Someoneorsomethinghadknockedoutthelandinglights.Hewasgreetedbyawallofdarkness.HeactivatedtheTaser’sLEDflashlightandplayeditacrossthefloor. It landed on an enormous bloodstain surrounded by bloody footprints.Someone,probablyseveralsomeones,haddiedonthatspot.Butwherewerethebodies?Thingsaren’tasbadastheyseem,Jimthought.They’reworse.Holdingtheelevatordooropenwithhisfoot,hecontinuedpanningthelight
acrossthefloor.ItlandedonDexter’sGlock17.Thehotelsecuritychief’smuch-lovedsidearmlayabandonedjustoutsidethedoortoroom301.Jimpokedhisheadoutoftheelevator,wonderingifheshouldpresshisluck
andgrabthepistol.Allofthehallwaylightingsconcesweredark,buttherewasenough light from theglowingemergencyexit signs todetermine that thehallwascurrentlyempty.Thegunwasnomorethanfifteenfeetaway.Hedesperatelywantedit.Jimsortedthroughhishotelpasskeysuntilhefoundtheonethatoverrodethe
elevator’scomputer.Hepushedthecardintothecontrolpanel, thenlockedtheliftinplacewithitsdoorsopen.ThenhewalkedovertotheGlockandpickeditup.ItwasdefinitelyDexter’s
weapon. And it had been fired. Jim pulled the clip and discovered that onlyseven of its seventeen rounds remained. The security chief hadn’t gone downwithoutafight.Notthatfightingdidhimanygood.Jim stood in the darkness, feeling his testicles trying to crawl up inside his
body.Hehadn’tfeltsounnervedsincecombat.Backthenithappenedmostlyonpatrol. Poking around strange houses and claustrophobic neighborhoods, he’dwonderifthenextcornerheturnedwouldbehislast.
Thiswasverymuchthesamefeeling,onlyworse.AtleastinAfghanistanhewasn’talone.Nowhefaceddangerallbyhimself.Which is probably for the best, considering my track record, he thought
grimly.IfIscrewuphere,nobodydiesbutme.“Timetoboldlygosomeplaceelse,”hemuttered.Hewas retrievinghispasskey from theelevator controlpanelwhenavoice
criedouttohim.“Hello?Issomeonethere?”Jimwassostartledhedroppedthepasskeysonthefloor.Hequicklygathered
themupbeforesteppingbackintothehallway.“Whereareyou?”hecalled.“Room308.”Jim’sheartsank.Theroomwasmorethanhalfwaydownthehalltohisright.“Areyouhurt?”Jimsaid.“No,butIcan’tmove.It’scomplicated.”JimpointedtheTaser’spiercingbeamdownthehall.Itwassointensethathe
feared it might give away his position. And he was already worried aboutrunningdownthebatteries.Thenherememberedtheplasticphaser.Heremoveditfromhisbackpackandsqueezedthetrigger.Thetoyproducedalesspiercingbutstillhelpfulbeamofamberlight.HeholsteredtheTaserandthenadvancedwiththepistolinhisrighthand,the
phaserinhisleft.Ashepassedthedoorstotheinterveningrooms,hecouldhearthe occupants on the other side, groaning and gurgling and scratching at thedoors. In their current state, they obviously lacked the smarts to work thedoorknobsandgetout.Someonehadusedaroomservicetraytopropopenthedoortoroom306.Jim
pausedbeforethethresholdandpeekedaroundthecorner.Hesawamiddle-agedmaninabathrobemillingaroundlist-lesslybetweentheroom’stwobeds.Amanwith two bloody stumps where his hands used to be. And a grotesque thirdeyeballperched,somewhatimpractically,onthetopofhisbaldskull.The creature seemed to notice Jim. It turned in his direction and bowed—
presumably to give the eye on its head a better look. Jim didn’t wait for themoaningtostart.Hereachedinsideandpulledthedoorclosed.Thenheadvancedtoroom308anddiscoveredthatthisdoorwasalsoslightly
ajar.Hewondered,briefly,ifthiswasasetup.Maybesomeofthezombiesweresmarterthanothers.Butheknewhehadheardahumanvoice.Itsdesperationcouldn’tbefaked.Before entering, Jim pointed the phaser to his right and left, down both
lengthsofhallway.Stillnocontacts.
Heshoulderedthedooropenafewinches.ItmadeacreakthatJimimaginedcouldbeheardall thewaytoDallas.Hepusheditopenacouplemore inches.Thenacouplemore.Thenheslidin,theGlockleadingtheway.Theroomwasprofoundlydark,saveforthelightfromJim’sphaser.Fromthe
doorwayhecouldseetheendofthefirstbed.Awoman’sbarelegslayacrossit.Pistol ready,Jimwalkeddown theshortentryhallandplayedhis lightover
themattress.Hefoundthelegs’owner—abeautifulwomandressedinagoldenmetalbikiniandaredsilkloincloth.“Whatthehell?”hesaid.“Shutthedoor,”shehissed.Jimturnedback toclose thedoorand trippedovera tripod,knocking itand
the attached camera to the floor.Thenhepushed thedoor shut, locked it, andturnedonthebedroomlights.“Isthereakey?”heasked.“Righthere,”shesaid.“Onthenightstand.”Jimgrabbedit,climbedontothebed,andinserteditintooneofthecuffs.As
soonasheunlatchedthefirstcuff,thewomanpulledherhandfree,grabbedthekey, and unlatched the second herself. Then she jumped off the bed in oneathleticbound.“Whereareyougoing?”heasked.“Wheredoyouthink?”Shedisappearedintothebathroomandclosedthedoor.Jimtuckedthephaserbackintohisbelt,setthepistolontheendofthebed,
and looked around the room.Aside from the video camera and the tripod, hedidn’t see any personal belongings—nothing, that is, except for an eight-footlengthofchainthatwasdrapedacrossadresser.Heliftedoneend,expectingaplastic prop, but the linkswere genuine steel and very heavy.Martockwouldhaveapprovedofitscraftsmanship.He turned on the television but there was no picture—just static. Then he
turneditoffandtriedthetelephoneinstead.Hewasstillpushingbuttonswhenthewomanemergedfromthebathroom.“Anything?”sheasked.“No,”Jimsaid,hangingup.“Notevenadialtone.”“We need to find someonewhoworks for the hotel,” she said. “Something
weirdishappening.Youwouldn’tbelievesomeofthestuffI’veheardinthelastthreehours.”Shewentovertothewindowandopenedthecurtains,butallthisrevealedwasapartialviewoftheparkinggarageacrossthealley.“Iamwiththehotel,”Jimsaid.“Myname’sJimPikeandI—”
“Tellmewhat’sgoingon.”“Icould tellyou,butyou’dneverbelieveme.Youneed tosee foryourself,
Ms....”Thewomanstoodinfrontofthemirroroverthedresser,quicklyweavingher
long,ravenhairintoaponytail.“CallmeLeia,”shesaid.And all at once it clicked into place: the chain, the metal bikini, the red
loincloth.ShewasdressedasLeiaOrganaintheopeningscenesoftheReturnoftheJedi,whentheprincesswasheldcaptiveasJabbatheHutt’sslaveaboardafloatingbarge.“Wow,”Jimsaid.“Doyoueverhavethewronghotel.”Thewomanlaughedbitterly.“Yathink?”sheasked.“We’re going to be okay,” Jim assured her. “My sister’s somewhere on the
seventhfloor,andoncewefindherwecan—”“Youcandowhateveryouwant,”shesaid,headingforthedoor.“I’mgoing
straighttothelobbyandgettingthehelloutofhere.”SheturnedthelatchbeforeJimcouldstopher.Instantlythedoorburstopen,
pinningLeiaagainstthewall.InlumberedDexter—orrather,all thatremainedofhim.Somethinghadgougedhugeportionsoffleshfromhisface,arms,andlegs.HelungedpastLeiaandmadestraightforJim,grabbingtwofistfulsofhisredjacketandshovinghimbackwardontothefloor.The weight crushed the air from Jim’s lungs. He forced both of his hands
aroundhisattacker’sneck,strugglingtokeepDexter’sfuriouslysnappingteethawayfromhisface.Butgravityworkedagainsthim.Andtherewassomethingelse.Somethingslimyonthesecuritychief’sneckkepthimfromgettingafirmgrip.ItwriggledandtwitchedwheneverJim’sfingersmadecontact.Itwasaneye,herealized.AneyethathadsproutedrightwheretheAdam’s
appleusedtobe.Trappedbetweenthebedandthewall,pinnedbyhisattacker’simmensebulk,
Jimknewhehadonlymomentstolive.Dexter’sravenousjawswerelessthananinchfromJim’scheek.Andthen,suddenly,theyweren’t.Through a haze of panic he glimpsed Leia above him, looping a length of
chainaroundtheundeadcreature’sneck.Then,straddlingthetwoofthem,shepulledwithallherstrength.TheforcesnappedbackDexter’shead,freeingJim’shandsandallowinghim
tocrawloutfrombeneathhisattacker’sbody.Hestaggeredtohisfeet,grabbedhisGlockfromthebedandleveleditatthehorroronthefloor.Leiakeptpulling
ashardasshecould,everymuscleinherbodystraining.Jimwasabout to shout forher to standclearwhenhe realized shooting the
thingwasn’tnecessaryanymore.Thecreature formerlyknownasDexterwentlimp.Jimadvancedcautiouslyonthebloodiedremains.Hetappedthehead,thenthe torso, with his foot. No reaction.Only then did he close the door and sitdownonthecornerofthebed,hispistolgrippedlooselyinhishands.Leiadroppedthechainandsteppedback,gaspingfromtheeffort.“Nexttime.
..,”shebegan.“Nexttimewe’llcheckthepeephole,”Jimagreed.“It’sadeal.”Too stunned to do anything else, Jim stared at the mess on the floor. He
noticed a viscous green fluid oozing from the front of Dexter’s neck. Frompreciselywherethethirdeyehadbeen.“Isthatazombie?”Leiaasked.“I’mafraidso,”Jimsaid.“Ididn’tthinkyoucouldstrangleazombie.”“I’mnotsureyoudid.Thisparticularzombiehadsomesortofthirdeyeover
itswindpipe.Onceyoucrusheditwithyourchain,itstoppedmoving.”Leia took this information in remarkably good stride. Jim knew that most
civilianswouldrespondjustlikeJanice—theirminds,numbedbypanicandfear,wouldsimplyseizeup.ButLeiaseemedfocused,notterrified.“I suppose there aremoredownstairs,” she said. “Thatwould explain all of
thescreamsI’vebeenhearing.”“Therearequiteafew,”Jimsaid.“Andthepolice?”“No police, no cell phones, no Internet, and no TV. Aside from my boss,
you’retheonlypersonI’veseeninthelasthour.”“ThenIguesswe’reonourown,”Leiasaid.Therewasasuddenloudpoundingatthedoor.“Notnecessarily,”Jimsaid.He steppedup to thepeephole and lookedoutside.Somehow the fightwith
Dexterhaddrawn theattentionofmorezombies. Jimcouldmakeout threeofthem,pressedagainstthedoor.Heguessedthereweremorebehindthem.“Whatnow?”Leiaasked.“I’mthinking,”Jimsaid.“Some rescue,”Leiamuttered. “Whenyou came in here, didn’t youhave a
planforgettingout?”“Ifyouwanttohelp,youcanlayofftheStarWarsdialogue,”hesaid.“I’ve
hadenoughsci-ficrapforoneweekend.”“Whatdialogue?”Leiaasked.
Morepoundingatthedoorinterruptedhisreply.Jimstudiedthelockandthehinges.Itlookedlikeitwouldhold—fornow.“Let’sseewhatDexter’spacking,”hesaid,androlledthebodyontoitsside.Leiapattedhisbelt andcameawaywith aheavy flashlight, a canofMace,
andanotherblack-and-yellowTaserX3.“Doyouknowhowtousethatthing?”Jimasked.“I ownone,” she replied as she checked the battery pack’s power level. “A
princesscanneverbetoocareful.”“Whataboutshoes?Youcan’trunaroundthisplacewithbarefeet.”“I don’t have a choice. Unless you feel like running up to room 911 and
grabbingmybag.Inwhichcaseyoucouldalsograbmyjeans,aT-shirt,andthebottleofibuprofennexttothebathroomsink.”Jim opened up his backpack, snapped a cartridge into his own Taser, and
stoweditinhisbag.Afteramoment’sconsideration,healsodroppedinthetoyphaser.ThenheofferedadartcartridgetoLeia.“Wantaspare?”heasked.“Inasecond,”shesaid.With considerable effort she reached underneath Dexter’s immense body,
undidhisgunbelt,andyankeditloose.Itwasmorethanayardlong—enoughtowraparoundherwaist twice.Instead,Leiaslungitoverherrightshoulderandfastenedthebuckleatherhip.WhenshereholsteredtheTaser,itrodejustbelowherleftbreast.TheMacewentintoapocketatherwaist.“Goodtogo,”sheannounced.“Worksforme,”Jimsaid,handingoverthesparedarts.“Sohowdowegetoutofhere?Shootourwaypasttheonesinthehall?”“I’vegotadifferentidea.”Hepointedtothewallbetweenthemselvesandthe
adjacentroom306.“Haveyouheardanynoises in this roomover the last fewhours?”“Notapeepunlessyoucountallthemoaningandscreaming.That’swhymy
friendDonniewentovertoinvestigate.Andhenevercameback.”Jimpointedtotheoppositewall.“Howaboutthatroom?”“Silence,”shesaid.“Seriously.”“It’s probably vacant. Even with the Trekkies convention, this is a slow
weekendforus,andthisfloor’sonlyhalf-booked.”Heshuffled throughhispasskeys, found theappropriateone,andstuck it in
theinteriorconnectingdoor’slock.HeslowlypusheditpartwayopenandshinedDexter’spowerfulflashlightinside.“Anything?”Leiaasked.“Empty,” Jim said. “No bags, curtains drawn, nothing out of place. We’re
good.”HewalkedtowardtheexteriordoorwithLeiaclosebehind.“You’rejustgoingtowalkoutthere?”sheasked.“Therecouldbehundredsof
them.”Jim looked out the peephole. Thereweren’t hundreds of zombies, but there
weremorethanenoughtogivehimpause.“Waithere,”hesaid.“Andbereadytomove.”He ran back into room308,where the creatureswere still pounding on the
exteriordoor.Thistime,Jimpoundedback.“Hey,youstupidfreaks!”heshouted.“We’reinhere!Tellallyourfriends!”Achorusofmoanseruptedfromoutside.Andthenthepoundingintensified.
Furiousandunrelenting.Themetalportalshookonitshinges.Jimwaitedafewmoments.Thentookseveraldeepbreaths,unlockedthebolt,
and turned the handle. The door flew back instantly and slammed against thewall,pushedwidebytheweightofthefrenzieddead.Jimleaptawayjustintimetoavoidthefirstwaveofattackers.Caughtoffbalance,theystumbledforward,falling in a pile at his feet. While others struggled to climb past them, Jimretreatedtotheconnectingdoorandlockedit.He found Leia pressed to the exterior door, still watching developments
throughthepeephole.“Goodidea,”shesaid.“They’refunnelingrightin.”Jimhandedhertheflashlight.“WegowhenIsay‘go,’”hesaid.“Oncewe’reoutside,clickthisthingonand
aimitdownthehall.Watchwhereyoustep.There’snastystuffonthefloor.”“Gotit.”Jimcheckedhiswatch:itwaswellpastnineo’clock.Hecouldonlyhopethat
Raynawasstillsafeinherroom.AndthatMattdidn’ttryanythingstupid.JimclickedofftheGlock’ssafety.Leiakeptherpostatthepeephole.“Ithinkwe’regood,”shefinallysaid.“SofarasIcansee.”Leiasteppedaway.Jimunlockedthedoorandturnedtheknob.Heopenedita
few inches—just enough to make sure the coast was clear. Then he steppedoutside.Leiawassoclosebehindthathecouldfeelherbreathonhisneck.Thezombies,apparentlybusytearingapart theroomnextdoor,missedtheir
departure. Leia clicked on the flashlight and guided their steps as they raceddownthehallway.Uponreachingtheelevator,theydiscoveredthattwozombieshadbeatenthemtothelift.Theystoodonboard,clawingwithbloodyfingersattheglasswalls,oblivioustothepotentialmealstandingdirectlybehindthem.“Shit,”Jimwhispered.“Double rat shit,” Leia replied, reaching for the elevator call button. “Let’s
findanotherwaydown.”Jim grabbed her wrist, stopping her. “For all we know, the other elevators
havemore.Weneedtogetridofthesetwo.”Theyheardadistantmoan.Theygazeddownthehallwaythey’djustfledand
sawnothing.ButthenJimglancedattheoppositeendofthehallway—theareahe hadn’t considered when formulating his escape plan—and spotted a halfdozenzombiesdodderingtowardthem.“Weneedtogetridofthesetworightnow,”Jimsaid.“Allright,”Leiashouted.“Listenup!”Thetwozombiesceasedtheirclawingandturnedasone.Theybegan,everso
slowly,tostaggeroutofthelift.JimraisedtheGlock.Ithadbeenalongtimesincehehadfiredasidearmata
movingtarget.Hesightedthefirstzombiecarefullyandpumpedasingleroundstraightintoitschest.Nothinghappened.“Youmissed!”Leiasaid.“Ididn’tmiss,”Jimsaid.“Hejustdoesn’tcare.”He fired threemore slugs into the creature’s central bodymass. Blood and
blackgoosprayedoutitsback,splatteringtheglasswallsoftheelevator,butthecreaturecontinuedlurchingforward.“Do something!”Leia screamed. Jimcould feel her fingersdigging intohis
rightshoulder.The creature closed the final few feet between them. Arms outstretched, it
drewnearenoughtosmell.Just as it prepared to lunge, Jim raised the Glock about a foot and fired a
roundintothemonster’stemple.Itwentdownandstayeddown.“It’sjustlikeinthemovies,”hesaid.“Youneedtoshoottheheads.”The second creature came close on its heels. Jim sighted its head, then
changedhismind.Leiasawhimwaver.“What’swrong?”shesaid.“Nothing,”hesaid.“Gonnatryanexperiment.”Hefiredattheeyeballprotrudingfromthezombie’sleftshoulder.Theround
struckhome.Thecreaturecollapsedjustlikethefirstone.“Excellent,”Jimsaid.“What?” Leia said, her eyes riveted on the hallway zombies. “What’s so
excellent?”“We’vegottwodifferentwaystokillthem,”hesaid.“Thingsarelookingup.”Therewasashufflingsoundbehindthem.Leiaturnedjustintimetoseethe
remainsofDonnieTrillclosingin.Theonce-chattyvideographernowcouldn’t
evenmanageamoan,havingbeenrelievedofhis tongueandmostofhisnoseand cheeks. Instinctively Leia pulled her Taser and fired. As soon as theelectrodesconnected,sheturnedonthejuice.Thecreaturecollapsed,twitchingviolently,thenlaystill.Thebulgingeyeonitsrightshoulderexplodedinaburstofgreengoo.JimandLeiastaredatit,slack-jawed.“Threeways,”shesaid,holsteringherTaser.They stepped aboard the elevator. On the sound system, Brent Spiner was
singing“It’saSintoTellaLie,”withJonathanFrakesandLaVarBurtondoingthebackupvocals.“Weneedtogoto the lobby,”Jimsaidashefranticallyworkedtheelevator
controls.“IlefttheonlyotherpersonI’vefoundalivedownthere,andshe’sinabadway.Mentally,Imean.Weneedtopickherup.”“OhmyGod,”Leiasaid,asshegazedoutoneoftheglasswalls.“Isthather?”Jimpeeredthroughthestreaksofbloodandgoreleftbythezombies.Hesaw
Janice standing in front of the main entrance doors, in full view of themonstrous,undeadhordeoutside.Ahordethathadswelledtoahorrificsize.Therewerenolongerjustdozensofzombieshowlingandclamberingtoget
in.Therewerehundreds.Maybethousands.AndJaniceseemedtobetalkingtothem.
Chapter12TheEnemyWithinJim didn’t grasp the full scope of the horror until he ripped his gaze away
fromthemainentranceandstudied thewindowsof theroomsoverlooking thelobby. Floor after floor, in one bedroom after another, he saw freshly risenzombiespressedagainsttheglass,poundingfuriously,driventoafrenzybythesightofJanice.“We’vegottostopher,”hetoldLeia.Hepunchedtheelevator’slobbybutton.“Hurry,”shesaid.“Thosedoorscan’thold.”“They’llhold,”Jimsaid.“They’retemperedglass.Andiftheybreakthrough
thefirstsettheystillhavetodealwiththesecond.”“Who’sshetalkingto?”Leiasaid.Jimlookedoutthewindow.SomethingaboutJanice’sbodylanguage,andthe
wayherheadbobbed,suggestedthatshewasindeedhavingaconversation.Butthatwasimpossible.Therewasnoonetotalkto.Nooneevencapableofspeech.“What’sshedoing?”Leiaasked.Janicenoddedonelasttime,thenwalkedbacktowardthereceptiondesk.The
elevatorreachedthelobbyanditsdoorsopened.“Stayhere,”Jimsaid,passinghisbackpacktoLeia.He ran out of the elevator as Janice felt beneath the reception desk for the
securitykeypad.“No!”Jimyelled.“Wait!”She didn’t hear. Aroused by the sight of another fresh meal, the undead
createdastormofnoisethatdrownedouteverythingelse.Jimrememberedthepistolinhishand,raiseditoverhisheadandfired.The
noise echoed off the hotel’s marble-floored atrium. Janice heard the shot andfinally glanced his way. She saw him and frowned reproachfully. Her lipsmoved:Wherewereyou?Jimtriedtospeak.Nothingcameout.Thenshesaidsomethingelse.Somethingthatdidn’tmakeanysense.The hotel’s front doors sprang open. A tidal wave of bloody monstrosities
surgedintotheBotanyBay.Janice,grinningasifshewerewelcomingabusloadofchartertourists,stoodhergrounduntilthedeadwashedoverher.
“No!”Jimyelled.Thewavebrokeoverthehotel’sfrontdesk,submergingJanicebeneathasea
ofravenousdead.Thestenchofdecomposingfleshfilledhislungs.JimpointedtheGlockintothecrowdandsqueezedthetrigger.Allheheardthistimewasaclick.Thegunwasempty.Hewasstillstaringdownatitwhenahandgrabbedhisleftshoulderandspunhimaround.“Comeon!”Leiascreamed.Heranonunfeelinglegsbacktotheelevator,whichwasproppedopenwitha
plastic,pottedficustree.Hekickeditoutoftheway.Thedoorsclosedjustasthefirst of the zombies smashed against the clear panels that surrounded themonthreesides.“Get us out of here!” Leia shouted as face after hideous, hungering face
pressedagainsttheglass.“It’sokay,”Jimsaidmatter-of-factlyashelockedthedoors.“Theycan’tget
tous.Onthegroundfloorwe’resurroundedonthesee-throughsidesbyathickPlexiglassheathing.It’stokeeppeoplefromgettingcrushedbytheelevators.Italsomakesaprettygoodzombiebarrier.”Thenheslumpeddownontothefloor,droppedtheGlockandputhisheadin
hishands.“There was nothing you could have done,” Leia said, trying to ignore the
horrorssurroundingher.“There’sneveranythingIcando,”Jimsaid.“Neveragoddamnedthing.”“Whathappened?”“Sheletthemin.Sheunlockedthedoorsandletthezombiesin.”“Why?”“Maybeshegottiredofwaitingformetocomeback,”Jimsaid.“Whatdidshesaytoyou?”“Thelastthingshesaidbeforesheopenedthedoorswas,Ibelieve,‘Ihaveto
lowertheshields.’”“Areyousure?”“Prettysure.Whatthehelldoesthatevenmean?”The zombies slammed against the Plexiglas with enough force to make it
shudder.“Idon’tknow,”Leiasaid,alookofmountingpanicinhereyes.“AllIknowis
that if you don’t get this damned elevator off the ground, I’m going to go ascrazyasshewas.”Jimglancedover her shoulder to the zombies.He recognized several faces.
One of theKlingons from the feast, his snapping-turtle headpiece nowwildlyaskew.Auniformedmemberof theBotanyBay’shousekeeping staffwhohad
obviously made her last bed. The guy who brewed him a double latte everymorningatthehotelatrium’scoffeekiosk.Differentpeoplefromdifferentwalksof life, but now with one thing in common. Each had a third eye locatedsomewhere on the head or shoulders or arms or chest.An insane-looking eyewithacrimsonpupil.Healsonoticed,inadetachedway,thattheoceanofhorrorssurroundingthem
seemedtomounthigherandhigher.Thefirstarrivals,theclumsybastards,weretotteringandfallingasnewmonsterspressedin.Thenewbiesstoodontopofthefirstwave.Asthemoundofthefallengrew,thezombieswhostayedontheirfeetgainedaltitude.It wouldn’t be long, Jim mused, before they surmounted the elevator’s
protectivesleeveandclimbedontotheboxitself.Andoncetheywereontheelevator,theywouldbeintheelevator.Jim looked up at the access panel in the ceiling andwondered if he should
propitopenandhelpthezombiesalong.Dying,evenatthehandsofflesh-eatingghouls,mightbepreferabletoseeingRaynaandJaniceinhisnightmares.Moreaccusers,askinghimnightafternightwhyheletthemdown.But Leia clearly had a different view. He could see it in her face—her
beautiful, terrified face. She was still talking to him, and he tuned in for amoment.“...can’tmakethebuttonsworkbecauseyou’vefrozeneverythingwithyour
passkey!”shescreamed.“Youneedtogetyourshit togetherbeforetheyclimbontheroofandtrapus!”“It’s hopeless,” he replied. “They’re everywhere. They’ll kill us no matter
whatwedo.”“But they don’t have to kill us rightnow!” Leia shouted. “We can hole up
someplace,figuresomethingout.Ormaybejustdieonourownterms.Wouldn’tthatbebetterthansuffocatinginthisbox?”Jimthoughtaboutit.Thewomanmadesense.ThezombiemoundwasalmosttothetopofthePlexiglas.Anotherminuteand
thefirstcreaturewouldthumpdownontothetopoftheelevator.“Let’sgotoseven,”Jimsaid.“Ihearit’snice.”“Anywhere,”Leiasaidasshestareddownatthefloor.“Anywherebuthere.”Jimpressed theappropriatecode into thecontrolpaneland left thezombies
behind.Leiashudderedastheyclearedthewrithingmass.“I have a thing about enclosed spaces,” she finally said. “Especially spaces
enclosedbyzombies.”Theelevatorstoppedatseven,dinging toannounce itsarrival.Thedoors,at
Jim’sinstruction,didn’topen.Theysoonheardpoundingandmoaningfromthe
otherside.“Soundslikeapar-tayoutthere,”Jimsaid.“Par-tay?”Leiasaid,stilltrembling.“Whosays‘par-tay’anymore?”“You’dbesurprised.”Jimtriedtogetthelayofthelandbylookingouttheblood-streakedwindows.
Withnothingtostimulatetheirappetites,thezombiesinthelobbysettledintoaroundoflistlesspacing.Andtheonesinthehotelrooms—theonesstaringdownat the atrium—also seemed calmer. The mess on the elevator glass made itnearlyimpossibleforJimandLeiatobeseen.“I thinkwe’reokay for themoment,” Jimsaid.“But there’snowaywecan
openthesedoors.”HepickeduptheGlockandejecteditsemptymagazine.Heunzippedhisbag,
drewoutthefreshclip,andslammedithome.“Seventeenrounds left,”hesaidashe lookeddownat theseaofundead.“I
don’tthinkthat’sgoingtobeenoughbulletsforallofthem.”“Whatthehellhappenedtoyoudownthere?”Leiaasked.Jimpushedhimself into thecornerof theelevatornext to thecontrolpanel.
Hecrossedhisarmsandstaredoffintothemiddledistance.“Whathappenedwas,Imadeamistake.Iputsomeoneinasituationthatthey
clearlycouldn’thandle.Andshedied.ShediedbecauseIwasstupid.”“Save your existential crisis for later,” Leia said. “Right now, we have to
survive.WeneedaPlanB.”“Really?”Jimsaid.“Ididn’trealizetherewasaPlanA.”“Therewas,”Leiasaid.“Youthoughtitup.Godowntothelobbyandfetch
what’s-her-name,thengoupstairsandfindyoursister.”“What’s-her-namewas named JaniceBohica,’” Jim said. “She liked to play
golf,shewaspathologicallyafraidofspiders,andforsomereasonshefollowedtheAstros.Wedidn’t likeeachotherverymuch.But shedeservedbetter thanthis.Andbetterfromme.”“Noonedeservesthis,”Leiasaid,gesturingattheelevator’sgrimywindows.
“Butthatwomanisdeadandnothingcanundoit.Gettingyourdrawersinaknotwon’thelpyouormeoryoursister.”“Rayna’sdead,”Jimsaid.“Ilefther,too,andnowshe’sdead.Shewaseaten
alive in a hallway somewhere while I was nowhere in sight. That’s how itworks.”“Wedon’thavetimeforthis,”Leiasaidimpatiently.Jimlookedatherwithtrueanger.“How’sthisforaPlanB?”hesaid.“HowaboutIputthebarrelofthispistol
inmymouthandpullthetrigger?Youcantakethepasskeysandthestuffinthe
bagandgoyourownway.Trustme,you’lllivelonger.”LeiastalkeduptoJimandlookedhimintheeye.“You have no idea howmuch Iwant to gomy ownway,” she said. “But I
can’tdothisalone.Youknowthelayoutofthisdump,youknowhowtohandleweapons,andyouknowhowtofight.AsmuchasIhatetosayit,Ineedyou.”“I’llgetyoukilled,”Jimsaid.“I’ll take the chance,” Leia replied. “Now let’s put aside your personal
baggageandtrytothinkabouthowKirkwouldhandlethis.”“Who?”Jimsaid.“JamesT.Kirk,commanderoftheUSSEnterprise.”Jimshookhishead.“Igetitnow,”hesaid.“I’mdeadandinHell, trappedforalleternitywitha
StarTreknerd.We’regoingtospendthenextthousandyearsdebatingwhethertheSquireofGothoswasactuallyQindisguise.”“Just bear with me,” Leia said. “Think this through for a minute. Do you
remembertheKobayashiMarutest?”“FromWrathofKhan,” Jim said,nodding. “It’s aStarfleet trainingexercise
thatalwaysresultsinthe‘death’ofthetestsubject.Itgaugesacadet’sreactiontoano-winsituation.”“Correct,”Leiasaid.“ButwhatdidKirksayaboutno-winsituations?”“Hedoesn’tbelieveinthem.”“Sohopefullyyouseetherelevance.ToparaphraseKirk,evenwhenyouthink
thingsarehopeless,theyaren’t.You’rejustmissingsomething.”Jimdidn’tseetheharminplayingalongforjustaminute.“Okay,let’sreview,”hesaid.“We’retrappedintheelevatorofahotelthat’s
filledwith flesh-eating zombies.We can assume, based on the police being atotalno-show,thatwe’reinthemiddleofanentirecity,maybeanentirenation,that’s likewise afflicted.Wehaveminimalweapons, no food orwater, and nowaytoopenthesedoorswithoutbeingimmediatelyattackedbyanenemywithcrushingnumericalsuperiority.Correct?”“Right,”Leiasaid.“SowhathaveImissed?”“Among a great many other things, you’ve overlooked the fact that the
zombiesaremorons.You’rereadytothrowinthetoweltocreatureswhocanbeoutsmartedbydoorknobs.”“Valid,”Jimsaid.“And it’s not like they’re invincible. We already know three ways to stop
them.Bullettothehead,bullettothethirdeye,Tasershot.”“Affirmative,”Jimsaid.
“Andhere’s themost important thing.You’re clumsy, you’re slow, andyoudon’tseemterriblysmart.”“Right,”Jimsaid.“Wait,what?”“Imeanthatwe’renothingspecial. Ifwemade it this far,othersmusthave,
too.They’re out there, and your sister could be one of them.Wewon’t knowuntilyougetitingear.”Jimuncrossedhisarms,pushedawayfromtheelevator’scorner,andstoodon
hisowntwofeet.“Istillthinkyou’dbebetteroffifyouranaway,”hesaid.“You’retheonewhowantstorunaway,”Leiareplied.“Butit isn’tgoingto
happen.Peopleneedyou,andtheydon’tstopneedingyoujustbecauseyouwishtheydidn’t.”“Well,I’lltrynottodisappoint.”“Do,ordonot,”shesaid.“Thereisnotry.”JimplacedhisrighthandonLeia’sbareshoulder.“WhatdidIsayaboutthemovietalk?”Leiabrushedhishandaway.“I’mnotmovie-talkinganything.I’mtryingtogetusoutofthissituation,and
you’retheonewhokeepsbringingup...”Theelevator’semergencyphonerang.Theybothlookedatit,toostunnedtomove.Whenitrangagain,Leialunged
forthereceiverandputittoherear.“Hello?”sheaskedbreathlessly.She listened for amoment, then,with a trembling hand, gave the phone to
Jim.“It’sforyou,”shesaid.
Chapter13StrategemJimtookthephone.“Whoisthis?”heasked.“ThisisLieutenantThellina,helmsmanoftheUSSStockard.”“Rayna!”Jimexclaimed.“You’reokay?”“I haven’t been eaten yet, if that’s what you mean. How are you and the
princess?”“Youcanseeus?”“Barely,withallthatzombiebloodandgoostucktotheelevator.Lookoutthe
paneltoyourright.”Jim gazed through the glass at the bank of seventh-floorwindows, peering
fromroomtoroom.Zombiesinthefirst.Zombiesinthesecond.Zombiesinthethird and the fourth and the fifth—and then two very-much-alive Trekkieswavingfranticallyforhisattention.“Iseeyou,”Jimexclaimed,wavingback.“Iseveryoneokay?”“EveryoneexceptT’Poc.She’sdead,Jim.Abunchofthose...creatures...
it happened so fast, like a stampede. They trampled her.Matt saw the wholething.Hesaiditwasawful.”“Justhanginthere.I’mcomingtoyourroom.”“ThenyoubettertalktoGary.He’sgettingreadytobarricadeourdoor.Letme
puthimon.”“I’llbethereassoonasIcan,”Jimpromised.“Right,”Raynasaid,thoughitwasn’tentirelyclearthatshebelievedhim.Amomentlater,Garywasontheline.“Where’dyoufindtheprincess?”heasked.Jimignoredthequestion.“Isyourroomsecure?”“It seems to be. There’s no immediate threat now thatwe’re behind locked
doors.Theonlyproblemnowisthatwecan’tgetout.Thehallwayisabsolutelycrawlingwith....with....”“We’vedecidedtogoaheadandcallthemzombies,”Jimsaid.“Younailedit,buddy.I’llneverdoubtyourweirdhunchesagain.”“Isanyoneelsewithyou?”“Matt.”“Seriously?”
“Yeah,”Garyrepliedglumly.“Gofigure.”“Howdidyoufindus?”Jimasked.“Raynanoticed thatwoman standing at the front entrance, so I tried to call
her.Iwasdialingthedesknumberwhenwespottedyoudownthere.Whichwasreally ballsy, by the way. We all kneel down before your mighty andmonumentalsack.”“That’spossiblythegrossestcomplimentI’veeverreceived,”Jimsaid.“Normally, I can do a lotworse,”Gary replied. “But I’mpreoccupied right
now.”“Haveyoubeenabletoreachtheoutsideworld?”“I’vetried,butsofar,nodice.NothingbutsnowontheTV.Phonesaretoast.
AndnoInternet,whichisreallystrange.Itwasoriginallydesignedtoserveasafail-safecommunicationsmodeduringanuclearwar,soit’svery,veryresilient.Tolockitdownthistight,you’dhavetohavesomeoneverysmartandpowerfulactivelydenyingservice.”“Ormaybeit’sgone,”Jimsaid.Foramomentthelinewassilent.“What?”Garyfinallysaid.“Whatdoyoumean?”“Maybeitdoesn’texistanymore.Maybeitsufferedsomesortofcatastrophic,
worldwidefailure.”“Oh, no,” Gary said with disturbingly brittle finality. “That’s not possible.
Somebody’skeepingusfromgettingtotheInternet,buttheInternetisstillthere.Itwillalwaysbethere.”Jimdecided to backoff.Given the stress thatGary already faced, implying
that the Internet was deadmight do him in. Besides, there weremore urgentthingstoworryabout.Fiveminutes earlier, Jim’s “plan” had been to put a gun in his mouth and
surrendertotheundead.ButnowthatRaynawassafe,thegearsinhisheadoncemorestartedtoturn.“You’reinMatt’ssuite,right?”Jimasked.“Room754?”“Youcan’tmissit,”Garysaid.“It’stheroomwithallthezombiesoutfront.”“Aretheybangingonyourdoor?”“Not really.They’re justwalking around in thehallway. It’s like they sense
thatwe’reclose,butthey’renotsurehowtofindus.”“Good,”Jimsaid.“Thendon’tbuildanybarricadesbecauseIneedtoget in
yourroom.Whenyouhearaknock,lookthroughthepeepholetomakesureit’sus,thenletusin.”“Uh-huh,”Garyrepliedskeptically.“Andwhendoyouseethishappening?”“We’regettingreadytostartrightnow,”Jimsaidashepressedbuttonsonthe
elevator’sconsole.“Expectusintwentyminutesifthingsgowell.Ifthingsdon’tgowell...justkeepsomebodybythedooruntilwegetthere.”“Raynawilldoit,”Garysaid.“Goodchoice,”Jimreplied.“Doyouhaveanyweapons?”“Nothingyet,butIdohavethewalkie-talkiesfromtheStockard.”“That’s even better,” Jim said, and he gaveGary instructions for using the
hotelfrequency.“Seeifyoucanreachme.”Thealmost-forgottenwalkie-talkieinJim’sjacketpocketbeepedforattention.
Hefisheditoutandclickediton.“DeadMeatTwo,thisisDeadMeatOne.Comein,”Garysaid.“Excellent,” Jim said as he hung up the phone. “Nowwe can contact you
anytime.Butforthetimebeing,don’ttrytocontactus.Wemightbesneakingupbehindalotofzombiessowedon’tneedyouspoilingoursurprise.We’llcheckinwhenwecan.Gotit?”“Got it,” Gary replied. “Oh, hey, Matt wants to say something. You got a
minute?”Thewalkie-talkiechangedhandsbeforeJimcouldanswer.“HeyJim,brotherofRayna,”Mattsaid.“Thisshit’slikeResidentEvil,know
whatI’msaying?”“Thisisn’tagame,”Jimsaid.“YourfriendT’Pocisdead.”“IdideverythingIcouldtohelpthatgirl,”Mattsaid.“Butwhenyou’refacing
downadozenenemycombatants, there’snota lotofoptions.Youknowhowitis.”Jim let the remark slide.Hewaspretty confident thatMatthadnever faced
any adversaries outside of a Play Station game, but there was no point inchallenginghim.“Istheresomethingimportantyouwantedtotellme?”“Just that we’ve got everything nailed down in here. Your sister’s in good
hands.Reallygoodhands.”Jimfelthisneckmusclestense.“We’ll talk about it when we get there,” he said. “And don’t get too
comfortable.We’renotstaying.”“Sayswho?Theminibar’sgotacoupledays’worthofsnacksandbooze.By
thattime,theNationalGuardortheMarinesortheTexasRangersorwhoever’sin charge of quelling zombie outbreaks will have fumigated the place.Meanwhile,we’llsittightandpar-tay.”LeiashotJimalook.“Par-tay?”shewhispered.“I don’t thinkwe can count on other people helping us,” Jim reasoned. “If
helpisontheway,they’renotgoingtoprioritizetheBotanyBayoverhospitals,
schools,governmentbuildings—”“Sorry dude, but this is my crew, and the decision’s been made. You’re
welcometocomeaboardforavisit,aslongasyourespectmyorders.Andthoseordersaretoabandonthesaucersection,raiseshieldstomaximum,andwaitforhelp.NowtalktoHorta.”Thewalkie-talkiechangedhandsagain,andGarywasback.“You need to get us out of here,” he whispered. “I think Matt’s having
trouble.”“Whatkindoftrouble?”“He’sactingfunny.I’mnotsureIcanexplainit.Buthebarelyblinkedwhen
T’Poc went down. I’m not sure her death even registered. Like he was justplayinganothergameofShoppingMaul.”“Keepaneyeonhim,”Jimsaid.“Watchforsuspiciousbehavior.Andgrabthe
pensoffthehoteldesk.Ifyougetinatightspot,youcanusethemasweapons.Eyeballs.Windpipes.Anythingsoftandfleshy.”“You’refreakingmeout,”Garysaid.“We’rejustwarmingup,”Jimsaid.“Seeyousoon.”The walkie-talkie clicked off and Jim pressed the elevator button for the
eleventhfloor.“What’soneleven?”Leiaasked.“Remember how I said the hotel wasn’t crowded? It got me thinking. The
eleventh-floorcommonareasarebeingpainted.Whichmeanstheystink.Whichmeanswewouldn’tputanybodyupthereunlesswehadto.Andbecauseit’saslowweekend,wedidn’thaveto.Ithinkit’sempty.Wecanwalktotheendofthehallandtakeoneofthefirestairwellsdowntoseven.”“Whatifthosethingsareinthestairwells?”“Oneproblematatime,”Jimshrugged.“We’llkillthezombiesifwehaveto,
butwe’lltrytoavoidthem.Keepmovingandkeepquiet.Thisammomighthavetolastusalongtime,soIdon’twanttowasteasinglebullet.Ifyouneedtodropabodyhereorthere,usetheTaser.TheGlockisnoisier,soitdoesn’tcomeoutunlesswe’rewellandtrulyboned.Okay?”“Yousoundlikeyou’vedonethisbefore,”Leiasaid.“Not exactly,” Jim said. “But after two tours in Afghanistan, I’ve become
prettygoodatsneakingarounddark,dangerousplaces.”The elevator arrived at the eleventh floor. Jim andLeia pulled their Tasers,
walked to thebackof theelevator, and stood shoulder-to-shoulder. Jimhit thebuttonandopenedthedoors.“Allright,”hesaid.“Let’sgetthispar-taystarted.”
Chapter14TheForgottenThe doors parted to reveal a landing filled with ladders, scaffolding, paint
cans,anddropcloths.Thelightswereundamagedandfunctioning.Therewerenosuspiciousstainsonthefloor.Theonlyodorwasthereekoffreshpaint.Normal,Jimthought.Totallynormal.ButhekepthisTaserinhandjustthesame.SodidLeia.“Justlikeyoufigured,”shesaid,surveyingthelanding.“Empty.”“I’llbetthepainterswereupherejustafewhoursago,”Jimsaid.“Probably
wentdownstairsatquittingtimeandwalkedouttotheircars,thinkingitwasjustanotherday....”“Don’tdwellonit,”Leiasaid.JimholsteredhisTaserandpokedaroundamongthepaintcans.“Whatareyoulookingfor?”Leiaasked.“These guys usually wear junk shoes at work. Sometimes they take them
home,but if theyknowthey’recomingback, theyleavethem.Maybe, ifIcanfindapairthat’snottoofunky...”“Don’tworryaboutfunky,”Leiasaid.“I’llwearanythingIcansqueezeonmy
feet.”Jimspotted something.Hewalkedbehinda scaffold and returnedholdinga
pairofratty,paint-encrustedhigh-tops.“Hereyougo,”hesaid.“Ihopethey’recomfortable.”“I’mawoman,”Leiasaidasshesatdownon thefloorandslippedher toes
intothesneakers.“I’veneverownedacomfortablepairofshoesinmylife.”Jimwatchedasshetriedtoforcethemon.Byhisestimationtheywerealmost
aninchtooshort.Buthesaidnothing.Better,andfarsafer,hecalculated,toletLeiamakethejourneyfromdenialtoacceptanceallbyherself.Ittookaboutninetyseconds.“Dammit!”sheshoutedasshehurledtheshoesacrosstheroom.“I’lllookformore,”Jimsaid.He resumed rooting around among the drop cloths, slowlymaking hisway
fromoneworkareatothenext.“Hey,”hefinallycalledfromacrosstheroom.“IthinkIfoundanotherpair.”“Dotheylookbiggerthanthefirstones?”Leiaasked.“Shit,”hesaid.“Actually,theylooklikethey’reattachedtosomeone.”
LeialeapttoherfeetandrantoJim’sside,Taserinhand.“Whatisit?”sheasked.Jim stood over a rolled-up drop cloth. Protruding from the end were two
black,ankle-lengthboots.“Wemayhaveaproblem,”hesaid.“Zombie?”Leiasaid.“Idon’tthinkso.Thezombiewoundsdon’tstopbleeding.Butthisdropcloth
looksclean.Notaspeckofblood.”“Butsomeonewrappedhimup,”Leiasaid.“Why?”Jimwasabouttohazardaguesswhenthebackofhisneckstartedtotingle.
Someoneorsomethingwasbehindhim.“Lookout!”heshoutedashespunandpointedhisTaser.Leiawentdownon
onekneeandbroughtherstobear,too.Theyfoundthemselvespointingtheirstungunsatathin,sandy-hairedmanin
hismid-twenties.Eyeswidewithsurprise,hestoodwithhisrighthandextended,as ifhe’dbeenabout to tapJimon theshoulder.HeworeaStarTrekuniformfromtheoriginalseries—blackpantswitharedtunic.“WhatareyoudoingtoOlson?”heasked.JimandLeiamaintainedtheirstancesamomentlongeruntilrealizingthat—
sincethekidcouldtalk—hecouldn’tpossiblybeazombie.Andsincehewasn’tazombie,therewasnoreasontoshoothim.Theysheepishlyholsteredtheirweapons.“Who’sOlson?”Jimasked.Thekidpointedtothebodyonthefloor.“Wecamefortheconvention,”heexplained.“I’mEnsignWillyMakit.”“Willy...Makit?”Jimasked.“I’mguessingthat’snotyourrealname.”“Ofcoursenot,”Willysaid.“It’smycharacter’sname.”“What are you doing all the way up here? I thought we had most of the
GulfConguestsonthelowerfloors.”Willy’sshouldersroundedashedroppedhishead.“Thehotel said itwasa simplemistake,but Ibelievewewere intentionally
segregated,”hesaid.“Wewantedtobewitheveryoneelse,butIthinkwordofourgroupgotaroundandnoonewantedtostaynearus.Sothehotelputushere.Wedidn’tfindoutuntilwearrived.”“Idon’tunderstand,”Jimsaid.“Ido,”Leiasaid.“Areyoupartofared-shirtgroup?”“I’m the last survivingmember of theWest TexasRed Tunic Club,”Willy
said.“Aonce-proudorganizationformerlyboastingamembershipofeight.”“Wherearetheotherseven?”Leiaasked.
“Dead,” Willy replied, his voice cracking. “They’re all dead. One insane,stupidaccidentafteranother.”“There’s nothing accidental about these zombies,” Jim replied. “Once you
understand theirbehavior, it’sveryeasy topredict everything they’regoing todo.”Willyshothimapuzzledlook.“Zombies?”heasked.“Whatzombies?”Thequestionhungintheairforamoment.Heappearedtobeserious.“Ohboy,”LeiawhisperedtoJim.“Thisisbad.”“Haveyoubeenupheretheentireevening?”Jimasked.“Yes.”“Haveyou,atanypoint,glancedoutawindowandseenthelobby?”“Yes.”“Sowhenyousawthatthehotelwasfilledwithbloody,mutilated,reanimated
corpses,diditoccurtoyouthattheremightbesomesortofemergency?”“Ifigureditwasacostumeparty,”Willyshrugged.“Ormaybeaflashmob?
Thetruthis,Ihadbiggerthingstodealwith.Likesevenofmyfriendsdyinginoneday.”Jim looked around the hallway, astonished. “Are you telling me that you
managed to lose seven peoplewhile holed up in the only secure space in thisentirebuilding?”ToLeiaandJim’sextremeunease,Willycoveredhisfacewithhishandsand
began to cry. For a long, longmoment itwas the only sound on the eleventhfloor.“It’s these uniforms,” he finally choked out between sobs. “They killed us.
They’recursed.AndI’llbethenextvictim.”“Youneedtobackupaminute,”Jimsaid.“Youthinkyou’veangeredsome
kindofStarTrekdeitybywearingareduniform?”Willytookamomenttocomposehimself.“IntheoriginalStarTrekseries,”heexplained,“thecharactersdressedinred
tunics were always doomed. If one beamed down to a planet with Kirk andSpock,theguyinredwouldalways,alwaysdie.SomyfriendsandIdecidedto,youknow,celebrate that by forming a club. It seemed like a good idea at thetime.We’dallcome toGulfCon inmatchingredshirts.We’dsaywewere thecrewof theUSSExpendable. Itwould be hilarious, because in the realworldnobodydies just because theywear thewrong costume to a sci-fi convention,right?”“That’sright,”Jimsaidimpatiently.“Hereintherealworld,peopledon’tdie
justbecausetheyweararedshirt.That’scrazy.”
“IthoughtthesamethingwhenIwokeupthismorning,”Willysaid.“Idroveup forGulfConwithOlson,Carlisle, andHenderoff.The rest ofour clubwasdrivingupafewhourslaterbecausetheyhadtowaitforLeslietofinishhershiftatBestBuy.WewereallgoingtomeetattheKlingonFeast.Butafterwearrivedand settled in, I got a message saying that our second crew was killed in ahighway accident. A tractor-trailer collision. They hadn’t been on the roadfifteenminuteswhenithappened.”“Oh,myGod,”Leiasaid.“I’msosorry.”“We were all in shock. And the fact that we couldn’t get a decent phone
connection to anyone back home just made things worse. We thought aboutleaving,butitwasgettingnearsundownandwedidn’twanttoriskdrivingafterdark.”“Becauseyouwereafraidsomethingwouldhappentoyoutoo?”Leiaasked.“That’sright.Theideaofaredshirtcursehadbeenfunnybefore,butnownot
somuch.Especially toCarlisle.Hewas accident-prone tobeginwith.Alwaystrippingoverhisowntwofeet.Soweagreedwewouldsticktogether.Ionlylethimoutofmysightonce,whenhewenttogethisstupidSnapple.”Willysuddenlysobbedagain,evenmoreviolentlythanbefore.“Wedon’thavealotoftime,”Jimsaid.Leiaswattedhimaway.“Telluswhathappenednext,”shesaid.“Yourfriend
wenttogetaSnapple.Thenwhat?”Willyextractedatissuefromhispocket,blewhisnose,thenputitbackinhis
pocket.“Hedidn’tcomeback,”hesaid.“Didn’tcomebackfromwhere?”Leiasaid.“Fromthevendingmachines.Olsonwentwithhimtobuysomepretzels,and
hesawthewholething.Somehowthebottlegotstuckinthemachine.Olsonwasrocking it back and forth while Carlisle was trying to fish out the bottle.Somehowthewholethingtippedoverandcrushedhisskull.”“You’rekidding,”Jimsaid.“That’simpossible.”“It’s thecurse,”Willy insisted. “We tried tocall the frontdesk, tried tocall
911.Allwegotwererecordingsorstatic.FinallyHenderoffdecidedtogodowntothelobbytogethelp.OlsonandIstayedbehind.”“AndI’mguessingHenderoffnevercameback,right?”Leiasaid.“Right.OlsonandIcouldn’tdecidewhattodonext.Wewerejustsittinghere
scarfingdownpretzels.Olsonswallowedmaybetwohandfulswhenhechokedandturnedblue.Itriedtosavehim.Really,Idid.But...”“Hechokedonapretzel?”Jimasked.Willy shook his head. “Anaphylactic shock,” he explained. “Olson was
violentlyallergictopeanuts.”“Butyousaidhewaseatingpretzels,”Leiasaid.“He was eating pretzels that were manufactured in a factory that also
processespeanuts.Ilookedatthebagafterward.Therewasawarningundertheingredients,butIguessOlsondidn’tnoticeit.”“There you have it,” Jim said, as if the entire storymade perfect sense. It
didn’t, really, but he didn’twant towaste anymore time babbling about StarTrekcurses.Within thecontextof theday’sevents, therewasnochoicebut toacceptWilly’sversionof theevents as fact. “Whydon’tyoucomedownstairswith—”“Excuseusjustaminute,”Leiainterruptedfirmly.“Ineedtotalktomyfriend
inprivate.”She took Jim by the arm and guided him to the other side of the elevator
landing.“Wereyoulisteningtothisguy?”Leiaasked.“He’sgotgonerwrittenallover
him.Ifwekeephimaround,wemightgetkilled,too.”“Youcan’tbeserious.Youmakeitsoundlikehe’sgotcooties.”“Death cooties,”Leia said. “Plus he’s obviously in shock. If there’s trouble
he’lljustcurlupinthefetalpositiononthefloor.Isayweleavehimrighthere.”ShelookedoverhershoulderandwavedpleasantlyatWilly.“Andit’snotlikewe’reabandoninghim,”Leiacontinued.“He’sprobablygot
the best setup of anybody in this entire fleabag rattrap. There’s enough candybarsandDietSpriteintheminibarstokeephimgoingformonths.Hecouldstarthisowncivilization—providedhelivesthroughthenight.”Jimthoughtaboutit.“Youmakeagoodpoint,”he said. “But there’s safety innumbers.Maybe I
canmotivatehimtocomewithus.”“Good luck,” Leia said. “I shot my motivational wad on the elevator,
convincingyounottoblowyourheadoff.”TheywalkedbacktowhereWillywaswaiting.“This is the situation,” Jim explained. “Cannibal zombies have overrun
Houston andmaybe the entire planet.This hotel is completely infested.We’retrying to reach the seventh floor,wheremy sister and someof her friends areholedup.Ifthezombiesbiteyou,youbecomeone.Anyquestions?”“No,”Willy said, eyes wide with shock. “That’s pretty much all I need to
hear.”“But there’s good news,” Leia chimed in. “This floor, unlike the others, is
zombie-free. And the zombies are too stupid to work door-knobs or useelevators.Soaslongasyoustayput,you’resafe.Safefromthem,atleast.”
“Good,becauseI’mnotgoinganywhere,”Willysaid.“I’llwaitrighthereinroom1120forwhateverhappens.Withmyluck,theceilingwillprobablyfallonmyhead.”Jimrolledhiseyes.“Youneedtocomewithus,”hesaid.“Youhavenoweaponsandnotraining.
You’dbealotsaferwithme.”“Iappreciatethat,”Willysaid.“Butiftheceiling’sgoingtofallonmyhead,
anyway,I’dfeelbetterifI’mtheonlypersonithits.Noneedtoinfectyouguyswithmygonercooties.”Leia’sfacepinkedup.“WasItalkingthatloud?”sheasked.“Don’tworry about it,”Willy shrugged. “Safety first and all that. I’llwalk
withyouguystothedoor,butthenyou’llbefreeofme.”Togethertheysteppedaroundthescaffoldingandmadetheirwaytowardthe
stairwellat theendof thehallway.Alongtheway,Leiagavevoice toan idea.“Wewerelookingforshoeswhenwefoundyou,”shesaid.“MaybeyourfriendshavesomethingIcouldborrow.”Willylookeddownatherfeet.“Whatsizedoyouwear?”“Idon’tknowmen’ssizes.Somethingmedium-ish.”“Youmeanlikeasevenoraneight?”Againsheblushed.“Aman’ssizeten,”shesaid.“Seriously?”Jimblurtedout.Leiashothimalook.Willyfrowned.“You’dprobablyhavetogetthoseataspecialstore,likemy
momdoes,”hesaid.“She’sgotchronicedema.”“Now there’s a plan,” Leia said icily. “Once we’re out of here I’ll find a
special store that sells gigantic shoes for my hideous, misshapen feet. Whydidn’tIthinkofthat?”Shestalkedoffdownthehallway.Jimwavedgood-byetoWilly.“Stayput.”“I’dwish you good luck,”Willy told him, “but I don’t think I have any to
give.”Leia was already at the stairwell door when Jim caught up with her. He
opened it a crack and looked around. Satisfied that itwas empty, he closed itagain.Allwithoutsayingaword.“Whythesilenttreatment?”Leiaaskedhim.“Youcan’tpossiblybemad.I’m
theonewhogotcalledoutovermyclownfeet.”“I’mnotmad,” Jim said. “I’m thinking.What you said aboutWilly staying
herewasright.Thisplaceiszombie-free.There’sfood.Wecouldholeuphereforafewhoursuntilwedetermineabetterplan.”
“Brilliant,”Leiasaid.“Sowegodownstairsandretrieveyourfriends?”“HowaboutIgoretrievemyfriendswhileyoustayhere?”“Screwthat,”Leiasaid.“Hearmeout,” Jim said. “It’s a straight, zombie-free shot to seven.Once I
reachthelandingontheirfloor,I’llusemywalkie-talkietocoordinatewiththeguysinMatt’ssuite.Whentheysaythecoastisclear,I’llruntotheirroom.Thenwe’llreversetheprocedureandbringeveryonebackhere.It’sidiot-proof.”Leiastartedtoreply,thenthoughtbetterofit.Instead,shefeltaroundonher
ammunitionbeltuntilshelocatedDexter’swalkie-talkie.Sheswitchediton.“DeadMeatOne,thisisDeadMeatTwo,doyouread?”shesaid.“ThisisDeadMeatOne,”camethereply.“OhmyGod,isthistheprincess?”“Gary?”“Yeah.Areyouallright?Iseverythingokay?”“I’mfine.”“I’mfine,too,”Jimadded.“Thanksforasking.”“We’re on the eleventh floor, about to take the stairs down to seven,” Leia
said.“But firstweneedyou to tellus something:howfar is the fire-exitdoorfromyoursuite?”“There’safire-exitdoor?”Garysaid.LeialookedatJim.“Howmuchofthehallwaycanyouseefromyourroom’speephole?Doyou
haveanyideahowmanyzombiesareoutthere?”“There’salotofthem,”Garysaid.“Prettymuchallofthem.”“Well, keep somebody at the door, because we’re going to make our play
prettysoon.”Sheswitchedofftheradio.“Yourpoint?”Jimasked.“My point is that you don’t have any idea what’s lurking on the stairs or
waitinginthathallway.Youneedme.”“Ineedyousomeplacesafe,”Jimsaid.“Dude, I’mnotyourgirlfriend,”Leia laughed. “Youcan skip theknight-in-
shining-armorroutine.Let’sstaytogetherandwatcheachother’sbacks.Besides,noplaceissafe.AskCarlisle.”ForthefirsttimeitregisteredtoJimthathewasstandingnexttothevending
area.Hespotted,throughitsdoorway,thebottomhalfoftheunluckyredshirt’slegsprotrudingfrombeneaththesodamachine.“Suityourself,”Jimsaid.HedrewhisTaser,pushedopenthefire-escapedoor,lookedaroundagain,and
stepped inside.He held it forLeia.Hewas about to close itwhen he noticed
Willyrunningdownthehalltowardthem,apapershoppingbaginhishand.“Wait!”heshouted.Jimheldthedoor.Willyranuptothem,panting.“Fortheprincess,”hesaid,holdingoutthebag.Leiasteppedbackintothehallwayandlookedatthepackagesuspiciously,as
ifitmightcontainabomb.“Foryourfeet,”Willysaid.“I’msorryIdidn’trememberthesesooner.”Willysethisgrocerybagdownandopenedit.Hewithdrewwhatlookedlike
an enormous plushmodel of theUSSEnterprise— and then a second plushmodelshapedexactlylikethefirst.“Whatarethose?”Leiaasked.“Slippers,”Willyexplained.“It’sofficially licensedmerchandise. Igot them
at a con inAustin. They’reway too big forme. But they’re comfortable andthey’vegotgrippystuffonthebottom,soyouwon’tslip.”Leia looked at Willy, then at the shoes. Then back at Willy. She stepped
forward, took the slippers, tossed them on the floor, and pushed her feet intothem.Theywentinquicklyandeasily.“Cushy.Goodfit,”Leiasaidasshewalkedaroundexperimentally.“Andthe
grippersonthebottomworkgreat.”“Whatdoyouthink?”sheaskedJim.The sight of a six-foot-tall, nearly naked woman walking around in puffy
noveltyslippersasbigasshoeboxesmadehimthinkalotofthings.Thingshewiselykepttohimself.“Great,”hesaid.“Fantastic.”“I’ll get these back to you,” Leia promised Willy as she stepped into the
stairwell.“Don’t worry about it,” he replied. “I doubt I’ll live long enough to wear
them.”
Chapter15WhatareLittleGirlsMadeof?The fire escape stairs were metal and the landings at each floor were
composedofrough,unfinishedconcrete.Togetfromoneleveltothenext,theyhad to descend a flight of stairs, turn around on a landing, and then descendanotherflighttoafire-escapedoor.“Watcheveryturn,”Jimwhispered.“Listenforfootsteps.”“Ithoughttheycouldn’tdostairs,”Leiawhisperedback.“Wedon’tknowthat.We’reonlyguessing.Also,maybeoneofthefire-escape
doorsisjammedopen.Therecouldbeadozenofthosethingsmillingaroundononeofthelandings.”“Andthenwhat?”Jimthoughtaboutit.Hedidn’thaveaclue.“Let’shopethere’snot,”hesaid.They moved quietly, slowly making their way to the tenth floor. Leia was
abouttostartdowntowardtheninthwhenJimmotionedforhertostop.“Ihearsomething,”hesaid,pointingdown.Thetwoofthemstoodmotionless,listening,forwhatfeltlikeaneternity.“Ihearit,too,”Leiasaid.“Barely.”Jimstealthilydescendedthefirstflightofstairstotheswitch-back,thengazed
down the second flight. He saw the back of what he took to be a smallishwoman, sitting on a step roughly halfway to the ninth-floor landing. Drapedaroundhershoulderswasanoversizedman’sjacket.Leiafollowedclosebehind.“Zombie?”shewhispered.“No,”Jimsaid.“Zombiesdon’tcry.”Jim holstered his Taser, walked to the woman’s side, and touched her
shoulder.Shelookedupathimwithatear-streakedface.AtonceJimrecognizedherclunkyrectangularglassesandpointyprostheticears.“Oh,myGod,”Jimsaid.“T’Poc?”“Jim,”shesaid.“Whatareyoudoinghere?”“We’retryingtogettoMatt’ssuite,”Jimsaid.T’Poc took off her glasses and wiped the right lens with the sleeve of her
jacket.Theleftlenswasshattered.“SowasI,”shesaidassheputtheglassesbackon.“Didn’tmakeit.”“Raynatoldusyouweredead,”Jimsaid.“Whathappened?”
“Youwererightaboutthezombies.Youtriedtowarnusandwejustlaughedatyou.”“Nevermindthat,”Jimsaid.“Tellmehowyougotuphere.”“AftertheKlingonFeast,Mattwantedtogobacktohissuite,sowerodeup
totheseventhfloor.Whentheelevatordoorsopened,wecouldn’tbelievewhatwewereseeing.Wethoughtitwasaprank.SomekindofGulfConevent.Thebloodwaseverywhere—onthewalls,ontheceiling.Therewerepeoplebehindus in the elevator, pushing us out.We had to run past the feeding frenzy.Wewent rightdown thehallway towardMatt’s room.Garywas first, thenRayna,thenme,thenMatt.Therewerelotsofopendoors,andthethingsintheroomsheardus,andtheylungedaswepassed.Idodgedalmostallof them.But thenoneof themgrabbedmyankle.Arealshoestring tackle. I fell flatonmyface.Mattjustleaptovermeandkeptonrunning.”“Wereyoubitten?”Jimasked.“OfcourseIwas.Ihadthreeorfourzombiesontopofme.”“AndMattdidn’thelpatall?”“Hedidn’tevenlookback.BythetimeIkickedthecreaturesoffme,hehad
thedoortohissuitealreadylocked.SoIkeptrunningtothestairwell,andthat’swhereImettheothers.Iwastemptedtocallthemsurvivors,butthat’snotreallytherightwordforthesepeople.Theywerebitten,allofthem,justhidingoutandwaiting to turn.Oneof themgavemehis jacket towear.They’renice . . .buttheywon’tstayniceforlong.”Jimlistenedcarefully.Hedidn’thearanysoundscomingfrombeneaththem
inthestairwell.“Wherearethey?”“Twofloorsdown,”T’Pocsaid.“Ifyouhurry,maybeyoucanstillhelpthem.”Jimwas doubtful, but he tried to sound positive. “Sure, I’ll ask about their
stay.Makesuretheyhaveeverythingtheyneed.Seeifthey’reinterestedinourturn-downservice.”HewinkedatLeia.“Berightback.”Thetwowomenwatchedhimdescendthestairs,thenlookedtoeachother.“What’sthatperfumeyou’rewearing?”T’Pocsaid.“Excuseme?”Leiaasked.“Yourperfume.It’sgreat.”“I’m not wearing anything,” Leia said. “Except a metal bikini that chafes
wheneverIruntoofast.”“It’saprettyawesomecostume.I’mnotlovingtheshoes,butI’llgiveyoubig
props for showingserious skin.You’vegotbeautifularms.Reallywell-shapedmuscledefinition.Sowhynot flaunt it, right? I’mabigbeliever ingiving thepeoplewhattheywant.Aslongastheconventioncenterisn’tfreezing.”“Iknowexactlywhatyoumean,”Leiasaid.
“Ihadafriendwhohadtheoppositeproblem.SheusedtodressasanOrionslave girl. If she got even a little bitwarm, she sweated.And every time shesweated,thepaintcameoff.Onetime,atashowinBatonRouge,theconmadeherpayforahotelchairsheruined.”“Greenpaintisabitch,”Leiasaid.“ItrynottowearitanylongerthanIhave
to.”“Takealookatmycostumethistime,”T’Pocsaid.With a great deal of effort she stood up, then let the jacket drop from her
shoulders.“Oh,myGod,”Leiasaid.Shetookastepbackward.“Awesome, isn’t it?” T’Poc said. “It’s the two-piece crew uniform from
‘Mirror, Mirror,’ the episode where Kirk and the rest of the bridge crew aretransported to an alternate universe where barbarians rule and the femalecrewmembersdress likeNBAcheerleaders.Theonlydrawbackis thatIhadtodocrunchesforweeksjusttogetinshape.”Leiadidn’trespond.Shewastoobusylookingat the twodeep,raggedbites
onT’Poc’sstomach.“Thosedon’thurt,”T’Pocsaid,followinghergaze.“Notanymore.Atfirstit
wassobadIthoughtIwasgoingtodie.Butafterawhileitgotbetter.”Leiakeptstaringat thewounds.Theydefinitelyweren’tgettingbetter.They
weptblood.Andtheskinringingthemwasgreenishgray.Likeacorpse.“Iguessthat’swhyI’mstillhangingon.IthoughtIcouldbeattheodds.ButI
don’tthinkIwill.I’mweakashell,andI’mhavingallsortsofstrangethoughtsandurges.Especiallythehunger.I’mravenous.Idon’tknowhowmuchlongerIcancontrolit.Imean. . .rightnowwe’rehavinganormalconversation,butIreallyjustwanttobiteoneofyourdelicious-lookingbiceps.DoyoudoPilates?”“Hathayoga,”Leiasaidasshetookastepback.“Alsofreeweights.It’s the
bestwaytostaytoned.”ShepulledherTaser.“I’mgoingtocheckonJim,”shesaid.“Don’tyoumoveaninch.”Shestarteddownthestairs.“Wait,”T’Pocsaid.“Ihavetotellyouonelastthing.It’simportant.”Leiahesitated.“I’vestartedhearingthingsinmyhead.Theytellmetodostuff.Buttheyalso
tellme...howthisisallgoingtoend.”“How?”Leiasaid.“We’re all going to die, Princess. You, Jim, me, every last one of us.
Everywhere.”Amoanwaftedupthestairwell.Thenanother—followedbytheunmistakable
mayhem of a struggle. And then Leia, swearing under her breath, launchedherselfdownthestepstowardthesoundsofslaughter.
Chapter16AmokTimeJimquietly descended the stairs until he stood halfway down the last flight
beforetheseventh-floorlanding.Hekneltandpeeredovertherail.Whathesawturnedhisstomach.Thepackofdecrepitfiguresbelowhimweren’twaitingtobecomezombiesas
T’Poc had suggested; their transformationwas already complete. Jim countedsix,allcrowdedinahalf-circle,dressedincolorfulaliencostumesandhunchedoveranunmovingbodydressedinablueuniformfromtheoriginalseries.The three zombies in front, women in shiny dresses and thigh-high silver
boots, crouched low over the body’s head.What are they doing? Jim thought,thenimmediatelywishedhecouldun-askthequestionasall threewomenroseunsteadily,allstrugglingtowrestpossessionofthecorpse’snaked,bloodybrain.Jimdidn’tknowwhetherthewaveofhorrorcoursingthroughhisstomachcamefrom the unspeakable sight itself—or from his sickening realization that itsperpetratorsweredressedas thealienorgan thieves fromtheepisode“Spock’sBrain”andthattheirzombifiedremnantshadkickedtherole-playupanotch.HeknewheshouldjustTaserthem.Standthereonthesteps,justoutofreach,
andzapthemlikeafiringsquad.Itwasarational,low-riskplan.But as Jim watched two of the undead horrors claw through the ersatz
Vulcan’sshirtandabdomenandbeginquarrelingoveralengthoflargeintestine,he felt rationality take a backseat to rage. Tasering was too easy for thesemonsters.Theyneededtosuffer.Oneofthecreatures,dressedassomesortofreptilianaliensoldier,turnedits
back to him. Slung across its backwaswhat looked like a stainless-steel, art-deco-style ax with a long blade and a pointed tip. Unlike the smooth-edgedbladesthatMartockwassellingontheconventionfloor,thisoneappearedtoberazor-sharpandincompleteviolationofGulfConrulesandregulations.Anotherplan,onefarlessrational,jelledinhismind.Jimknewhecoulddoa
lotofdamageveryquicklywiththatweapon.Thenhewouldn’thavetowasteabunch of Taser darts. This seemed like a perfectly reasonable strategy—or asreasonable as he couldmanagewith the sound of his every heartbeat echoingthroughhisears.Andtherewasnoonearound—notRayna,notLeia—totellhimanydifferent.Hestood,walkedquicklyandquietlydownthelaststeps,crossedthefloorto
thesceneoftheslaughter,andthenrippedtheweaponoffthesoldierzombie’sback.Thecreatureturned,itsthirdeyefixedonthelastthingitwouldeversee:Jimslammingthebladedownontothecenterofitshost’sskull,splittingitlikeamelon.Onedown.Theotherzombies,finallyalertedtohispresence,moanedandtotteredaround
to facehim. Jimdidn’tgive them time toget theirbearings.He rocked theaxfreeofitsformerownerandthenusedittosweepafatFerengi’sfeetoutfromunder him. The blade’s impact severed the zombie’s right leg just below theknee.Themonsterfellface-firstontheconcrete—stillmoving,butcrippled.Twodown.The trio of zombies in the shiny dresses fumbled anddropped theVulcan’s
brain; it landed on the floor with a wet splat. Against Jim’s will, a short,hystericallaughescapedhislips.“You like brains?” he yelled as he swung viciously, severing one creature’s
headwithasinglestroke.“Whowantssomemore?”Hereversedhisgrip,swungbackhanded,anddecapitatedanother.Thethirdwatchedinconfusionasthetwoheadslandedatherfeet,followedbytherestoftheirbodies.ThenitlookedbackatJim,itsdeadeyescakedin‘60s-erago-goeyeshadow.Heagainbitdownonhisrevulsionandswungonemoreright-handedarc—
and then therewere three headless corpses crumpled in a heap.Hat trick! Jimthought,feelingagrinspreadacrosshisface.Hewasbreathinghard.Hisarmsburnedfromtheexertion.Andtherewasstill
onemorezombietogo,theoneattherearofthepackthatwaskeepingitsbacktohim.Itappearedtobeamiddle-agedmanwithgray,shoulder-lengthhair.Hiscostume looked like itwas sewn from rags.Onhis lefthandwasaglove thatappearedslightlyfamiliar.“Whothehellareyousupposedtobe?”Jimasked,grabbingitbytheshoulder
andspinningitaround.Thezombiemoanedandstaggeredtowardhim.SuddenlyJim’sfacebrightened.Heremembered.“Khan!”heshoutedashepointedhisaxattheundeadhorror.“Khaaannnn!”Hewasraisinghisweapontostrikewhenthecreaturesuddenlystoppedinits
tracks,twitchedlikeamarionette,thenwentslackandfelltothefloor.BehinditstoodLeia,Taserinhand.Thethinwiresthathadchanneledfiftythousandvoltsintothezombie’sbacktrailedfromittoherweapon.“Thanks,”Jimsaid.“Howlongwereyoustandingthere?”“Longenoughtofullyappreciatewhatanidiotyouare,”shesaid.“Areyou
outofyourtiny,twenty-wattmind?YoucouldhavedoneallthiswithaTaser.”
“Thiswasalotmoresatisfying,”Jimsaid,stillbreathingheavily.“Andborderlinesuicidal,”Leiasaid.“Comehere.”Jim dropped his blood-swathed weapon on the floor and walked to the
princess,whostoodatthebaseofthestairs.Leiaperformedacareful,walk-aroundinspectionofhim.Lastly,shetookhis
hands into hers. She closely examined each digit, then ran her fingers lightlyoverhispalms,lookingforthesmallestcut.Shefoundnothing.ShelookeduptofindJimwatchingherintently.“You’reokay,”shesaid,meetinghisgaze.“Thatwasjustanexcusetofeelmeup,”hesaid,smiling.“Don’tgetcute.Whatyoudidwasidiotic.Andyoudidn’tjustriskyourown
life.Onebiteandyou’relosttous.Losttoyoursister,losttome.Thinkaboutthatbeforeyouplayheroagain.”“Heroismhadnothingtodowithit,”Jimsaidsullenly.Heheardamoanbehindhim.He turned tosee theone-leggedFerengi, still
facedownontheconcrete,slowlycrawlingtowardthem.“Excuseme,”hesaid.Hepickeduphisweapon,walkedtothecreature,flippeditoverwithhisboot,
anddrove thecornerof theaxblade into its thirdeye.Thenheshouldered theweaponandwalkedbacktoLeia.“I’m not a hero,” Jim said. “I just lost my mind a little. Because—well,
becauseIsawMr.Spocklosehis.”Jimmotionedtowardthemostlyeatencorpseonthefloor.Then he noticed that Leia was already staring at it. And that her left hand
grippedthestairrailsohardherknuckleswerewhite.“Itmoved,”shewhispered.“Justatwitch,butIsawit.”Jimwalkedslowlybacktothebody.Itlayinthemiddleofagooeymassof
bloodandgore.Itsentirebellyhadbeenwrenchedopen.Bitsofblueandpinkorgan meat lay strewn about. What remained of the head was better leftunexamined.“Areyousure?”heasked.Just then the right leg twitched again. Amoment later the left arm did the
same.“It isn’t possible,” Leia said as shewalked cautiously to his side. “There’s
nothingleft.”“Look,”Jimsaid,pointing.Astheywatched,asmallwhitenodulesproutedjustunderneaththecorpse’s
exposedleftcollarbone.Itexpandedwithstartlingspeed.Asitgrewitsentlong,white,spaghetti-thintendrilssnakingthroughoutthebody.Severalvinedaround
the spine.Others raced down the ruined limbs.A bundle of them forced theirwaythroughtheneckandbegangraspingaboutforpiecesofskulltogather.“IthinkImaygetsick,”Leiasaid.Jim didn’t reply.Hewas too busywatching the transformation of a human
corpseintoazombie.The nodule expanded to the size of an orange, then stopped. A horizontal
creaseformedon itssurface.Amoment later thecreasesplitopen, revealingaglaringredeye.“It’stakenoverthebody,”Jimsaid.“Butit’sinforasurprise.”Theinvadertriedtoworkthenewbornzombie’slimbs.LeiaandJimwatched
as first one, then the other arm shuddered.But thatwas all the parasite couldmanage.Toomanymusclesweregone, toomany tendons, for realmovement.Theseverelydamagedbodywasofnousetoitsnewowner.Jimkneltdownbesidethecorpseandstaredattheeye.“Iguessitsuckstobeyou,huh,Twitchy?”hesaid.Theeyestaredbackathim.Jimwonderedwhereitcamefrom.Whetheritfelt
maliceorfearorrageoveritspredicament—oranythingatall.Heleanedclosertogetabetterlook.Then,closerstill.Hefeltanalmostprimalurge,wellingupfromdeepinsidehissubconscious,
totouchit.Leiagrabbedhisjacketandpulledhimback.“Whatthehellwereyoudoing?”sheshouted.“Youwereleaningrightintothe
damnthing.”Jimshookhisheadtoclearthecobwebs.“Thatwasclose,”hesaid,nodding.“Youdon’twant toholdeyecontactfor
very long. They can get inside your head. That’s probably what happened toJanice.Theyscrewedwithhermindandmadeheropenthehoteldoors.”“Killit,”Leiasaid.“Inasecond.”JimpluckedthecanofMacefromLeia’sgunbelt.“Whydoyouwantthat?”sheasked.“Anotherexperiment.”HepointedtheMaceattheeyeandfiredastreamofcausticfluidintoit.The
reactionwaseverythinghe’dhopedfor.Thecorpsethatthecreaturecontrolledjerkedspasmodically—exactlythewayabodywouldreactifitsmasterwereinagony.“Finishit,”Leiasaid.“Whytherush?”Jimasked.“Feelingsofthearted?”
“We’vegotthingstodo.RememberT’Poc?She’sstillupthere.”“Iknow,”Jimsaid.“Believeme,Iknow.”Hestoodup,puttheMacecanisterbackintoLeia’sbelt,andthenbroughtup
hisax.He was about to use it when the princess took the weapon from him. She
leanedoverthecorpseandgougedouttheeyeballherself.“That’showsoftheartedIam,”shesaid.She stared at themass of biologicalwreckage that hadoncebeen a person.
Jimsilentlyheldouthishandfortheblade.Leialiftedit—and,growlingdeepinherthroat,thrustitssharppointbackintothemonstrositythreemoretimes.“Andstaydown!”shespatatthething.ThenshehandedtheweaponbacktoJim.
Chapter17TheFirstDuty“Youmadeit,”T’Pocsaidwhentheyroundedtheswitchbackinfrontofher.
Thelookofreliefonherfaceseemedgenuine.“Idid,”Jimsaid.“Butyouknewtheywerealreadydeadwhenyousentme
downthere,didn’tyou?”AteartraceddownT’Poc’sleftcheek.“Yes,”sherepliedquietly.“Halfanhourago,someguycamerunningupfor
help from one of the lower floors and they grabbed him. I heard everything.Theytookforevertofinishhim.”“WhydidyousendJimdownthere?”Leiaasked.“Icouldn’thelpit.Iknewitwasn’tsafe.Iknewit.Buttheywouldn’tletme
warnyou.”“Who?”Leiasaid.“Whatever’sinsideme.Whatevergotintomybloodwhenthatzombieprick
bitme.I’mgettingsmallerandthey’regettingbigger,anditwon’tbelonguntilI’mgone.Justtalkingtoyouistaking...everythingthat’sleftofme.”T’Poc pulled down the corner of her top, revealing a bulge near her right
collarbone.Itmovedaroundfitfully,asifdesperatelyseekingawayout.“ThinkIshouldhavethislookedat?”shesaid.Jimlaughed.Itsoundedbitterandunhealthy.HewalkedupthestairstoT’Poc,satdownbesideher,andstaredupatLeia.“Ineedyoutogodowntothenextflightandstaythere,”hesaid.“I’llcatch
upinaminute.”“You’reserious?”Leiaasked.“YouthinkIcan’thandlethis?”“I’mnotaskingforyou,”hesaid.“I’maskingforme.”Leiareluctantlydescendedthestairs,glancingonceoverhershoulder.T’Poc
andJimsatsilentlyuntilshewasoutofsight.“Ireallydon’twanttocomeback,”T’Pocsaid.“Ithinkitwouldbelame.”“Exceedinglylame,”Jimsaid.“I’msorryyouhavetodothis.”“Notassorryasme.”“I’dkillforacigaretterightnow.”“Thatwon’tbenecessary.”Jim pulled a crushed, well-worn pack from his back pocket, fished out a
smoke, and handed it to her. Then he produced a book of hotelmatches andstruckone.T’Poclitupandtookalongdrag.Foramomentsheseemedtoregainalittle
bitofcolor,alittlebitofheroldself.Butonlyforamoment.“Didyouknowweweregoingtohookupthisweekend?Idecidedrightafter
wemetintheparkinggarage.Guessthat’soutofthequestionnow.MaybenextmonthatDragon*Con.”“I’llmarkmycalendar,”Jimsaid.He stood up, walked up two steps behind where T’Poc sat, pulled off his
backpackandrummagedthroughit.“You need to get Gary and Rayna away from Matt,” T’Poc said, staring
straightahead.“Youcan’ttrusthim.”“I’mworkingonit.”JimpulledouttheGlock,clickedoffthesafety,andchamberedaround.Shedidn’tturnaround.“Isthatagun?”“Thiswon’thurt,”hesaid.“Howwouldyouknow?”T’Pocasked.Shetookonemoredragonthecigaretteandthenstubbeditoutonthestair.JimpointedthepistolatthebackofT’Poc’sskull.Justbeforehesqueezedthe
trigger,shespokeonelasttime—inastrange,emptyvoicethatwasparther,partsomethingelse.Somethingthatwastryingveryhardtostopher.“These things . . . the things that make the zombies . . . they aren’t from
aroundhere,”shesaid.“Theydon’thavethoughts,butIseeimages...picturesofdarknessandemptinessandcold.Theycameherefromsomeplacefaraway.Theymade the dead rise. But the zombies aren’t your only problem. There’ssomething else. I can sense it out there. It’s a thousand timesworse than theundeadorthethingsthatmadethem.Becauseitstillhasitsmind.AndMatt...”“What?”Jimsaid.“Tellmenow,beforeit’stoolate.”“There’ssomethingwrongwithhim,Jim.He’sworsethancrazy.Hehas...a
connection...Thereisanetwork...”T’Poc’svoicestoppedsuddenly,asifsomeonegrabbedherbythethroat.She
slumpedagainstthestairrail,lifeless.Amomentpassed.Thenanother.ShesatupagainandturnedtofaceJim.Thebulgeonhershouldersplitopen
ashewatched,revealingapulsatingeye.TheeyelockedonJim.ThethingthathadbeenT’Pocletoutamoan.Jim pointed the Glock and fired a round directly into the big red pupil. It
explodedinasprayofgreenishslime.
AndmayGodhavemercyonmysoul,hethought.
Chapter18WrongsDarkerThanDeathorNightLeiawalkedall thewayback to thesectionofstairs justabove theseventh-
floor landing. She sat at the top so that she couldn’t see or smell the charnelhousebelow.She tried toprepareherself for thesoundof thebullet.But shestill jumped
whentheGlock’ssharpreportechoedoffthestairwell’scold,blankwalls.NotlongafterwardJimdescendedthestairs,thepistolstillinhishand.“Wehavetogetoutofhere,”hesaid.“T’PocstartedtowarnmeaboutMatt.
She’snotsurewhat’swrongwithhim,butIdon’twanttheguyanywherenearmysister.”“Fine,buthowdowegetpastthem?”Leiasaid.Shepointedinthedirectionofthelandingdoor.Itrattledundertheblowsof
thezombiesontheotherside.“Whyaretheysoriled?”Jimasked.“Thenoisefromyourone-manbattlebroughtthemalldownhere.Maybeyou
candreamupawaytogetridofthem.”Jimwalkedtothebottomofthestairs,recoveredtheax,andtrudgedbackto
Leia.Hesatdownbesideher,thegore-coveredweaponathisfeet.Heputhisheadinhishands.Hefeltunspeakablytired.Notforthefirsttime,
hewished for somehelp.Thekilling and the runningwere easy.He andLeiacouldtakecareofthatthemselves.Buttowhatend?Wasthereanywayoutofthismess?Hewishedheweresmarter,wishedhehadaccesstosomeonelikeDr.Sandoval,theexobiologistfromHarvard.Maybeheknewofsomeweaknessinthezombiesthatcouldbeexploited.Butthatwasnuts.StillthinkinglikeaTrekkie,Jimthoughtgrimly.Stilllookingforasilverbullet
tosettletheproblembeforethecreditsroll.Sandovalisalmostdefinitelydeadbynow.Andanivory-towereggheadwouldn’thelpmuch,anyway.He’djustslowusdown.“Areyouokay?”Leiaasked,joltinghimoutofhisreverie.“I’mtryingtothinkofaplan.”Aminutecrawledby.Finally,sheasked,“Isthisjustaploytogetmealone?”Jimforcedawearysmile.
“Iamgladyou’rehere,”hesaid.“Gladderthanyouprobablyknow.Howareyoufeeling?”“I’mmaintaining.Why?”“It’salwaysroughthefirsttime,”hesaid.“Yourfirstkill.”“Whosaiditwasmyfirst?”Jim’ssurprisedexpressionmadeLeiasmile.“I’mkidding.Besides,Idon’tthinkthesecountasrealkills.Howcanyoukill
somethingthat’salreadydead?”“Goodpoint,”Jimsaid.“And I’ve got a hunch this isn’t your first time,” Leia said. “How are you
holdingup?”Jimtookadeepbreath,asifhewereabouttospeakatlength.Then,atthelast
moment,heseemedtochangehismind.“Armysnipershaveanoldsaying,”heofferedinstead.“TheonlythingIfeel
whenIpullthetriggerisrecoil.”“Itakeityou’renotverybigonsharing.”“Trustme,youcan’tgraspthestuffthathappenedoverthereunlessyoulived
it.Untilyou’veactuallybeeninbattleandseenpeopledieinfrontofyou...”Hiswordstrailedoffinmidsentence.HelookedintoLeia’seyes.“Underthecurrentcircumstances,Iguessthatsoundsstupid,”hesaid.“Yes,”Leiaanswered.“ButI’llforgivetheoversightifyouansweronesimple
question:Howdoyougo fromworking as a first-rate soldier toworking in athird-ratehotel?”“It’seasy,”Jimsighed.“Firstyoujointhearmyrightoutofhighschooland
pulltwotoursinAfghanistan—thesecondasaplatoonsquadleader.YouwinaPurpleHeart and aBronze Star, big freaking deal, but soon the responsibilitygivesyouinsomnia.Becauseinspiteofthemedalsandtheuniform,you’rejusttwentyyearsoldandyoustilldon’tknowshit.Andmaybe, thenightbeforearaid,youstartpukingbloodandtheyputyouintheinfirmary.Andwhileyou’relyingonyourback insteadofwalking in thefieldwithyour troop,yoursquadgoesintoabooby-trappedhouse,twoguysdie,andoneguyloseshissight.Andwhenthisnewsgetsbacktotheinfirmary,youknowyoucouldhavepreventedit.Youknowyouwouldhavesmelledthetroubleandavoidedit.Butyouweren’tthere,becauseyouwerelaidupwithwhatturnsouttobeapansy-assbleedingulcer.Astress-inducedstomachlesionbroughtonbyyourfearthatyoumightletyourpeopledown.Talkaboutirony.”Jimtappedtheendoftheaxhandleonthefloor.“SoIfinishedmyhitchandgotout. Ididn’twantanymoreresponsibility. I
wanted a bullshit civilian job where I was free to screw up without
consequences.WhichtheBotanyBayofferedme.Untiltonight,atleast.”“Tonight,everythingchanges,”Leiaagreed.“They’llberewritingthehistory
booksafterthisone.Assumingwesurvivelongenoughtoneedthem.”“Now I’ve got a question for you,” Jim said. “What compels a smart,
attractive young woman to spend her weekends pretending that she’s CarrieFisherinwhatisarguablytheworstfilmoftheoriginalStarWarstrilogy?”Leialaughed.“Youwanttheshortanswerorthelonganswer?”Jimglancedatthefiredoor.Itshookfromtheconstantonslaughtofzombies
ontheoppositeside.“I’minnorealhurrytogooutthere,”hesaid.Leiapulledherlegsuptoherchestandwrappedherarmsaroundthem.“ThenI’mgoingtodosomethingIrarelydo,”shesaid.“I’mgoingtoconfide
inyou.Normally,Ikeepthisstorytomyself,butsincewe’relikelytobeeatenalivebeforemidnight,IfeellikeIcansharethiswithyou.”“Iappreciatethat,”Jimsaid.Leiasighed,rockedbackandforthonthestepnervously,thenbegan.“I grew up near Amarillo. I was a pretty normal kid until I turned eleven.
That’s when my father decided to leave my mother and me. You know thatSpringsteensong,’HungryHeart’?”“‘IwentoutforarideandIneverwentback.’”“Bingo.Dadwentoff toworkonedayanddidn’t comehome that evening.
Canyouimagine?Ithoughthewasdead.ThenwegotapostcardafewweekslaterfromSanDiegosayinghewasdonewithus.Heactuallywrote‘donewithus.’Icanrecitetheentiremessageifyou’dlike.”“Whydidheleave?”“Iwas a kid. I figured itwasmy fault.Andwhen I finally screwed up the
couragetoaskmymom,IlearnedthatIwasright.”“How?”“Iwasn’tactuallyhiskid.Mybiologicalfathershackedupwithmymomfora
one-nightstand.Mypretendfatherfoundoutandsplit.Iguesshedidn’twantapretend daughter.Which is too bad, because the pretend daughter really likedhim.Lovedhim,Iguess.”“Whatdidyoudo?”“WhatcouldIdo?Itougheditout.Mommarriedanewass-hole,andthisone
abused her. Shewouldn’t leave him. So one night at the dinner table, I put asteakknifethroughhishand.Thepara-medicshadtopryitoutofthetable.Thatworkedoutwell,actually.Theysentmetoaboardingschooltwohundredmilesaway.After that Iwent toOhioStateandgraduatedpremed.And that’showIwounduphereatGulfConinaPrincessLeiacostume.”“Wait,gobackaminute,”Jimsaid.“IthinkImissedsomething.”
“Like I said, I graduated premed. Most of my regular college bills werecovered by scholarships. But if I’m going to domedical school, I need someseriousbank.So last summer Ianswered thisad fromavideogamecompany.Theyneededamodeltowearshortsandasportsbraandcarryabigfakegunataconvention.ThatwasthedayIdiscoveredmycalling.NowIdothesethingsalmosteveryweekend.”“Isthathowyougotintosciencefiction?”“No, I came by that naturally. Other worlds are better than this one, you
know?”“Ido,”Jimsighed.“IusedtowatchStarTrekanddreamaboutbeingonthe
Enterprise,halfagalaxyawayfrommymom,fromourpoor-assexistence,fromprettymucheverything.”“Same here,” Leia said. “Only I fantasized about being half a galaxy away
frommymother and stepfather, surroundedbypeoplewho reallyweredecentandhonorable,andnotjustpretending.PeopleIcouldcountoninajam.”“We’reamatchmadeinheaven.Nowonderyoudidn’twanttostaybehindon
theeleventhfloor.YouthoughtI’dditchyou.”ApeculiarlookcrossedLeia’sface.“Actually,no,”shesaid.“Ineverthoughtyouweregoingtoditchme.I just
figuredmychancesarebetterwithyouthanwiththelastsurvivingmemberoftheWestTexasRedTunicClub.”Ahideousmoanfromthehallwayinterruptedtheirdiscussion.“Thoughitdoesn’tchangethefactthatwe’retrappedinthisstairwell,”Leia
said.Jim’sfacesuddenlybrightened.“We’renottrappedatall,”hesaid.“Ijustfiguredoutwhattodo.”“Yousee?”Leiasaid.“Iknewyouwouldn’tletmedown.”
Chapter19MoveAlongHomeJimtookouthiswalkie-talkieandtogglediton.“Gary,thisisJim,”hesaid.“Comeback.”“Wherethehellareyou?”Garyresponded.“Wethoughtweheardagunshot.
Istheprincesssafe?”“She’sfine.Where’sMatt?”“He’sholedupinthebedroom.Andstillactingreallystrange.”“Inwhatway?”“Idon’tknowifIcanexplainit.Buthehasn’tmadeonefatjokesinceweleft
the feast. Nomore cracks about mymom. And he’s stopped eyeballing yoursister’sass.It’sreallydisconcerting.”Jimtriednottolettheremarkdistracthimfromtheplan.“Don’tdisturbhim,”
hesaid.“I’lldealwithMattlater,butrightnowweneedyourhelp.Canyougoovertotheatriumwindow?”“I’mstandingthererightnow,”Garysaid.“Whereareyou?”“We’reintheeastfirestairwellontheseventhfloor.There’saboutamillion
zombiesstandingbetweenusandyou.Weneedsomething todrawthemoff. Iwantyoutocheckthefouratriumelevators.Wherearethey?”“One’sdowninthelobby,”Garysaid.“Plusoneonthesecondfloorandone
onwhat looks like the fifteenth floor.They’reall fullofzombies.But theoneyourodetoelevenisstillempty.”“Like I figured,” Jim said. “Now here’s where it gets tricky. Do the room
phonesstillwork?”“Yeah,”Garysaid.“Excellent.IwantyoutocontactaguynamedWillyinroom1120.Tellhimto
gototheelevatorsandpushthecallbutton.Theoneontheeleventhfloorshouldopenrightup.Ineedhimtosendthatelevatortotheseventhfloorandthenhopbackout,understand?”“Gotit.”“Once you’re finished, call me. We want to be ready to move when the
elevatorarrives.Hopefullyitwillmakeanice,loudding,whichthezombieswillmistakeforadinnerbell.Thenwe’llsneakdowntoyou.”“Genius,”Garysaid.“Makeitso,”Jimreplied.
Heclickedoffthewalkie-talkie.“Youhaveyourmoments,”Leia said. “Notmanyof them,butyoudohave
them.”Jimsighed,closedhiseyes,andrubbedhistemple.“EmpireStrikesBack,”he
said.“What?”“That’salinefrom—”Thewalkie-talkiecrackledtolife,cuttinghimoff.“Jim, it’s Rayna,” the voice said. “I just got off the phone with your new
buddy,Willy.He’sgoingtotheelevatornow.”“Perfect,”Jimsaid.“We’rereadytomove.”“Buthewantsyoutowaitforhim.”“What?”“He said he’s changed hismind about staying behind.Hewants to join us.
He’sgoingtosendtheelevator,thenrundownthefire-escapestairsandconnectwithyou.”Jimsworeunderhisbreath.“Hebetterrunfast.We’llgivehimoneminute,butthat’sit.”“Listen for theding,”Rayna toldhim. “The elevator’smoving.Tenth floor,
ninthfloor...”Jimstoodupandshoulderedhisax.Leiagotup, too.Theywalkeddownto
thelandingandpickedtheirwaypastthebloodycorpsestothefiredoor.“Eighthfloor,”Raynasaid.Abovehishead,Jimheardadoortothestairwellopen.EnsignWillywason
themove.“Seventhfloor,”Raynasaid.Jimputhisheadtothedoorandheardafaint,distantding.“Suppertime,”Raynasaid.“It’shardtotellforsure,butIthinkthey’regoing
forit.”“Seeyousoon,”Jimsaid,clickingoff.Momentslater,acompletelywindedWillyclambereddownthestairs.“Welcometotheparty,”Leiasaid.Willywavedhalfheartedly,thendoubledoverandputhishandsonhisknees.
Hestayedthatwaythroughbreathafterraggedbreath.“Wehavetogo,”Jimsaid.Willyhelduponefinger.Thenhe tookseveralmorebreaths.Thenhestood
up,hisfacestillbeetred.HiseyeslandedonJim’sweapon.“Nicekar’takin,”hesaidbetweengasps.“Huh?”Jimreplied.
“Your ax,” Willy said. “It’s the primary melee weapon of the Jem’HadarshocktroopsoftheDominion.FromDeepSpaceNine.”“Sothat’swhatit’scalled,”Jimsaid.“Ididn’tknow.IguessIwasneverthat
bigofaNiner.”Willyinspectedtheblademoreclosely.“Ugh,”hesaid.“It’sgotzombiestuffalloverit.”“It’llbeworseinaminute,”Jimsaid,thenpushedopenthedoor.The zombies, the nearest of which were perhaps twenty yards away and
stumblingfartherdownthehalltowardtheelevator,didn’tnotice.SuddenlyLeiagrabbed Jim’s faceandkissedhim.Forhalf an instant, there
were no zombies, no horrors, just soft lips and an effortless sense oftogetherness.Thenshepulledbackandtheybothdrewabreath.“Forluck,”shesaid.“That’sfrom...nevermind.Herewego.”Theystartedtheircareful,cautiousjourneydownthehall.
Chapter20TheChangelingMattlaymotionlessinthedarkness,sprawledacrosshishotelbed.Hewasso
exhaustedwhenhelaydownthathehadn’tbotheredtopullbackthebedspread.He’dstayedthereforwhatseemedlikedays.Hewastired,butheneverslept.
Notforamoment.Instead,helistenedtothesoundsoutsidehisdoor.Thiswasremarkably easy. His hearing had grown superhumanly acute. When RaynaaskedGaryiftherewasanybottledwaterintheminibar,heheardit.Whensomesortofmeleeerupteddownthehall,heheardit.And justmoments ago,when Jim announced over thewalkie-talkie that he
was standing at the door of the seventh-floor fire escape, waiting for just therightmomenttorushdowntothesuite,heheardthat,too.ThenewsmadeMattvery,veryupset.Irunatightship,hethought.Iwon’thavesomeinsubordinate,shoe-shining,
room-service-tray-fetchingprimateunderminingmyauthority.He quietly sat up and lowered his feet to the floor. He looked around.His
visionwassosharpthatthepitch-blackroomdidn’tseemallthatdarkanymore.Hissensitiveeyesobserveditseveryfeature.Perhapstheywereatouchtoosensitive.Thesliveroflightseepingunderthe
doorwastoopainfultolookat.Matt reachedover to thenightstand,wherehehaddepositedhis trustyRay-
Bansbeforelyingdown.Heputthemon.Better.Muchbetter.Hefeltlikeanewman.Painandfearhadforcedhisretreatintodarknessandquiet.RaynaandGary’s
loud, ceaseless prattling drove him to distraction. So did the suite’s insanelybright lights. He had to escape to a quiet, dark place to sort things out. Toprocesswhatwashappeningtohim.Ithadbegunshortlyafterhereachedthesuite.He,Rayna,andGarygotthere
byrunningagauntletoftheundead.Oneofthemattackedhim.Instinctivelyhepuncheditintheface,knockingittothefloor.Thenhestompedonitshead.He kept racing down the hall, right over T’Poc. She’d fallen. One of the
undead thingswas climbing on top of her, about to take its first bite.Not hisproblem.AsheexplainedtoGaryearlierintheday,manshouldn’tinterferewithnature’srhythms.
Oncebehindcloseddoors,theywereokay.YetforsomereasonMattcouldn’tstopsweating.Hisskincrawled.Hislimbsached.Even worse, he felt a stirring deep inside his psyche. As if something had
hitchedarideinhismind.He went into the bathroom and splashed water on his face, trying to calm
himself. Then he spotted a small, almost unnoticeable cut on one knuckle. Itcame,heguessed,frompoppingthezombieintheface.He’d seen enoughmovies to knowwhat such blood-to-blood contact could
mean.Hegrewmoreandmoreagitatedaboutit.Finally,hesimplywalkedintothebedroom,closedthedoor,andcuthimselfofffromtheothers.Justastheurgesinhisheadtoldhimto.At first hewas frightened.He lay trembling in the dark, his clothes soaked
withsweat.Hecouldn’tclosehiseyes, for fearhe’dawakenasazombie.Butslowlythefeareased.Slowlyhisdiscomfortlessened.Slowlythethingsinhismindgrewmorepowerful.Andastheirpowersgrew,
theybegantoworkwonders.Theyimprovedhisearsandeyes.Theymadehismusclesstronger.Theymade
hisbrainworkfaster.Allstressanduncertaintyreceded.ThisiswaybetterthanXanax,Mattthought.TheonlytopicthattickledanythingapproachingdiscordwasthenewsofJim
Pike’simminentarrival.That,andtheobviousgleethathissurvivingcrew,GaryandRayna,displayedattheprospect.Thisistextbooktreason,hethought.Heknewtheirplans.Howsomekidupstairshelpeddistractthezombies.How
they’d figured out that Tasersworked on the undead. Even how they’dmet awoundedT’PoconthestairsanddiscoveredMatt’sroleinherdemise.Hepuzzledover that last bit of information.He couldn’t rememberhowhe
knewit.Yetthereitwas,tuckedawayinhiscerebralcortex,likesomerandombitoftriviahe’ddiscoveredwhilesurfingtheWeb.WheredidIreadthatagain?HowdoIknowthis?Healsoknew,somehow,thatJimwasfurious.ThathewantedMatt’sheadon
astick.Thethoughtmadehimsmile.Mattstoodupandwalkedtothebedroomdoor.Basedonthesoundsoutside,
heknewexactlywherehissuitemateswere.Raynastoodatthedoor,waitingtoadmitherbrother.Garywasrightbehindher,anxiouslyrockingbackandforth,thesoftfrictionofhissneakerscreatinganoisethatwasimperceptibletohumanearsbutrangclearasabelltoMatt.Theywerecommittingthevilesttreason.Bringingvisitorsaboard,behindthe
commandingofficer’sback.Visitorswhoactuallymeanttodohimharm.Mattplacedhishandonthedoorknob.Hisbodytensedforaction.Timeforthebigfightscene,hethought.Heopenedthebedroomdoorandsteppedoutintothelight.
Chapter21InsurrectionThe hallway was littered with corpses of the freshly dead. Too fresh, Jim
hoped,torisequiteyet,buttherewasnowaytoknowforsure.Everythinghe’dseensuggestedthattheincubationperiodwaswildlyinconsistent:somepeopleturnedwithinminutes;otherstookseveralhours.Why?He and Leia and Willy picked their way among the carnage, carefully
watchingformovement.Itwasn’teasybecause,justasonthethirdfloor,mostofthelightsconceshadbeendestroyed.Thiswasanotherpuzzle.He’dalreadyconcluded that thezombieswere toodumb toopendoors—sohowcould theymake the strategicdecision to smash the lightsonebyone?Theonlypossibleexplanation was that it wasn’t a strategic decision—that the creatures wereoperating by base instinct. They did not like light.And now that the sunwasdown,theywerecomingoutinforce.Jim glanced up to see Rayna, still wearing her electric-blue Andorian face
paint, cautiously open the suite’s door. She motioned for them to hurry. Hemotioned,justasemphatically,forhertostayinsideuntiltheygotcloser.Somethinggrabbedhisleftankle.Jimlookeddowntoseethebloodiedfaceofamaninhisforties,hisbluetunic
pulled up to expose his prodigiously hairy paunch. A paunch that sprouted abloodshoteyeballjustabovethebellybutton.Jim shook his ankle free and then punctured the eye with the tip of his
kar’takin.Leia pointed down the hall to another freshly minted zombie—an elderly
womanwho doddered to her feet as theywatched, then lurched toward them,toothlessmouthagape.As he advanced on his target, Jim brieflywonderedwhat front-deskmoron
gave the old lady a room on the Trekkie floor. Then he realized she wore aragged,bloodiedNextGenmedicaluniform.Fandomknowsnoagelimits,hethought.Heswungthekar’takin.Theblowslicedoffthetopofthecreature’sfragile-
lookingskull,exposinganeatcrosssectionofitsbrain.Thebodytumbledtothefloor.Jimsurveyedthehallforotherpotentialtargets.Heglancedbackatthesuite.
Hissisterwasstillwatching.She’dcoveredhermouthwithherhandandseemed
ontheedgeoffainting.She’dseenmorecarnagethanshe’deverimagined,andthingsweregoingtogetworsebeforetheygotbetter.He glanced behind him, making sure Leia and Willy kept close. Then he
lookedbackatthedoor.Raynawasn’tthereanymore.InherplacestoodMatt.Hewasgrinning.“Sorry,Jim,butyoursisterandIwouldlikealittleprivacy.”Hereachedout
andhungaDoNotDisturbsignfromthedoorhandle.“Bequiet,”Jimsaid.“They’llhearyou.”“Hearme?”Mattshouted.“You’reworriedthatallthezombiesdownthehall
aregoingtohearme?Andmaybethey’regoingtoshambledownhereandtearyoutopieces?”Jimstartedrunning,butitwastoolate.Mattslammedthedoorinhisfaceand
theautomaticlockclickedintoplace.“Whatjusthappened?”Leiashouted.“Whatthehellishedoing?”“Trying to kill us,” Jim said. Some two dozen zombies had abandoned the
elevatorsandwerenowshamblingtowardthem.Leiahammeredonthedoor.“Letusin!”sheshouted.“Please!”Willyjoinedher.“Openthegoddamndoor!”Jim looked at the peephole. He sensed that Matt was on the other side,
watchingthem.“Wecan’tstayhere,”Leiasaid.Jim handed his kar’takin to Leia, reached into his jacket, and pulled out a
lanyardwithauniversalpasskeyattached.Hepassed itover thedoor’s sensorpad. A tiny light near the knob changed from red to green. The lockingmechanismclicked.Jimturnedtheknob,puthisshoulderagainstthedoor,andpushed.Itdidn’tbudge.“What’s wrong now?” Willy asked nervously, his eyes locked on the
advancingundead.“Doormustbebarricaded,”Jimsaid,strainingagainstit.Leiapushed,too.Itdidn’thelp.“Wedon’thavetimeforthis,”shesaid.“We’vegotto—”Shewascutoffbyahigh-pitchedshriekfromWilly.Acorpse they’d just steppedover—awomandressed inaminiskirtuniform
from the original series—rose up, moaned, and stumbled toward them. Leiadispatcheditwithasharpjabfromthekar’takin,cleanlybisectingitsthirdeye.“We’reoutoftime,”shesaid.Jimhitthedoorrepeatedlywithhisshoulder.
Meanwhile, a solid wall of zombies, filling the hallway from side to side,shambledtowardthem.“They’recoming!”Willyshouted.Jimtriedtothinkof themonlyasafacelessswarm,astrategicobstacle,but
little bits of lost humanity insisted on jumping out at him: a ridged Klingonforeheadhere,atornRomulantunicthere.AscrollingLEDlanyardthatblinked:FrakMe?FrakYou!“We’vegottogetbacktothestairwell!”Leiainsisted.“No,”Jimsaid.Instead, he retreated to the door of the adjacent room. He could hear
scratchingandmoaningfromtheotherside.JimtookouthispasskeyandturnedtoLeia.“Tasethisprickassoonasitstepsout,”hesaid.Leia tossed the kar’takin to Willy and then pulled her Taser just as Jim
unlockedtheroom,shovedopenthedoor,andsteppedback.Out stumbled two bedraggled-looking zombies, the first wearing bloodied
pajamas, the second a pair of boxer shorts. Leia tased the first as soon as itcleared the threshold. Jim grabbed the second by the shoulders, spun it in thedirectionoftheotherzombies,andsentitsailingtowardthemwithaboottothebutt.“Getin!”heshouted,pushingtheothersinsideandslammingthedoorinthe
facesoftheadvancinghorde.“Nowwhat?”LeiaandWillyaskedatthesametime.Jim didn’t reply. Instead, he switched on the overhead light, tossed his
backpackinachair,pulledouttheGlock,andchamberedaround.“Stayinhere,”Jimsaid.“Keepoutofsight.”ThroughthewallhecouldhearRayna’svoice.Shewascryingandpleading.
BeggingMatttounlockthedoor.Jim located the interior door that linked the room toMatt’s suite.Again he
swipedhispasskey,butthistimehekickedthedooropen.Theforceoftheblownearlyknockeditoffitshinges.Mattwasstandingnear theexteriordoor,grippingRayna’s rightarmby the
wrist.Garylayonthefloor,groaning.“CommodoreStockard, you are unfit for command,” Jim said. “I’mhere to
relieveyouofduty.”Then he aimed theGlock atMatt’s face and advanced on him.This should
havebeenenoughtogetthejobdone.Jimknewthatnearlyallciviliansshrankawayfromthesightofagunbarrel.Especiallyifitwasinchesfromtheirface.ButMattneverflinched.
“Thisismyship,”hehissed.“You’reoneofthem,”Jimconcluded.“You’renothumananymore.”“No,”Mattsaid.“I’mbetter.”He released Rayna, then brought up his right armwith superhuman speed,
battingthegunoutoftheway.Thenhedeliveredastunningheadbutt,knockingJimoffhisfeet.TheGlockflewoutofhishand,bouncedacrossthefloor,andstoppedafootshortofthewide-openconnectingdoor.Jim’searsrangandhiseyesblurred.Whenhefinallyregainedhissenses,he
foundMattstandingoverhim.“Youneedtorespectthechainofcommand,”Mattsaid.Hewalkedover to the pistol, knelt down, andpicked it up.He inspected it
carefully.“Idon’t reallyneed this,”hesaid,glancingbackat Jim.“Not theway Iam
now.ButIthinkI’llholdontoitjustthesame.”HewassobusylookingatthegunandatJimthathedidn’tnoticeLeiastep
quietlyintothedoorway.Didn’tnoticeuntilshebroughtthekar’takindownonhiswrist,cleanlyseparatinghisgunhandfromhisarm.“Tryholdingitnow!”shescreamed.Leia raised the blade again and struck atMatt’s head. But her target, who
acceptedhisinjurywithouttheslightestoutwardsignofpainorpanic,grabbedtheweaponwithhisremaininghandandwrencheditaway.Hetossedit to thefloor and stood on the shaft. Then he grabbed Leia by the throat. Slowly, heliftedheroffthefloor.Jim struggled to his feet. Just then theGlock discharged a round. The slug
buzzedpasthisleftear.Thepistollayonthefloor,Matt’sseveredhandstillwrappedaroundthegrip.
Thehandtwitchedandrocked.Itwastryingtomovetheweapon.Tryingtoaimit.AnothershotspedJim’sway,barelymissinghim.“Willy!”heshouted.“Getthegun!”The terrified redshirtdashed through thedoorway.Screaming,he fell toall
foursnexttotheweapon,grapplingwiththehandforcontrol.Anotherrounddischarged.ItspedpastRaynaandGaryandstraightthrough
thewindow,shatteringit.“Gethishandawayfromit!”Jimshouted.“I’mtrying!”Willyshrieked.“Itwon’tletgo!”Leia, held a foot above the floor and slowly choking, furiously kicked her
dangling, slippered feet. Jimduckedaroundher andpunchedMatt hard in thekidneys.Once,twice,athirdtime.Nothinghappened.
HerememberedhisTaser.Hetookitoutandaimedit.ThatgotMatt’sattention.Heturned,stillholdingLeiabytheneck,andthrew
heratJim.Hecaughther,buttheimpactlandedthembothbackonthefloor.Jimmanaged to raisehisTaser and fire.Matt jumpedoutof thedarts’way,
towardthehallwaydoor.Leia,stillweak,regainedenoughofhersensestobringherownstungunto
bear.Shefiredbutalsomissed.The two of them got to their feet, weapons ready.Matt, while dodging the
darts, had cornered himself in the hallway leading to the exterior door. Therewasonlyonewayout.“Thanksforcomingtomyparty,”hesaidasheeyedthehallwayexit.“ButI
thinkit’stimetocallitanight.Goingtobeabigdaytomorrow.Catchyouattheconvention.”Thenheputhisshouldertothedoor,pushingitoffitshingeswithfrightening
ease.Hefledintothehallway,towardthefire-exitstairs.“Oh,shit,”Jimsaid.Azombiepeekedinsidetheroomandmoaned.Itstaggeredintotheentrywith
anotherclosebehind.“Everybodyout!”Jimsaid.“Intothenextroom!Go,go,go!”Willyranuptohim.“Igotthegun,”hesaid,handingovertheGlock.Jimusedittoputabulletintheskullofthefirstzombie.Hedidthesameto
thesecond.Butthreemorehadfoundthedoorandwereontheirwayin.Rayna,Willy, and Leia helpedGary to his feet and through the connecting
door.Jimexpendedfivemorerounds,droppingfivemorezombies.Yetstilltheycame.“Comeon!”Leiascreamedasshegrabbedthekar’takin.Jim retreated alongwith the others through the connectingdoor.Rayna and
Leia were struggling to push a dresser in front of it because Jim’s kick hadbrokenthelock.Therewasn’tmuchtime.“Givemefiveseconds,”hesaid.He ran to the opposite side of the suite, to the other connecting door. He
unlocked it, opened it a crack, and looked around. He found nothing butdarkness. Jim pushed the door open and then felt around the wall for a lightswitch.Thespaceseemedoddlywarm.“Hurry!”Raynashouted.Thedresserwasonlywaisthigh,andtheundeadwerepilingin,tryingtoget
overthetop.LeiatookoutherMaceandfiredcarefullyaimedshotsatthealieneyes.Thefirsttierofundeadwrithedinpain,obstructingtheonesbehindthem.
But their sheerweight began to tell.Thedresser slowly slid away from thedoorway.Tohisimmenserelief,Jimrealizedthatthenextsuiteoverwasempty.Theair
conditionerwasbroken.Theenvironmentalunitunderthewindowlaypartiallydisassembledonthefloor,wherearepairworkerhadleftit.Heranbacktotheothersuite,wheretheotherswerelosingthebattletohold
back the zombies. The doorway was a writhing mass of bloodied heads andwavingarms.“Let’smove!”JimshoutedashepulledGaryoffthebed.Garylookedaroundblearily.“What?”Jimdraggedhimintothenextroomandloweredhimintoasittingpositionon
the floor. Rayna and Willy followed a moment later. Leia, carrying Jim’sbackpack,camelast.Jimslammedthedoor,lockedit,thenpushedanotherdresserinfrontofit.Assoonashefinished,Raynahuggedhim.“Ican’tbelieveit,”shesaid.“Ican’tbelieveyou’rehere.”“ItoldyouI’dcome,”Jimremindedher.“Areyouokay?”“I’mnothurt,ifthat’swhatyoumean,”Raynasaid,hereyesfillingwithtears.
“Butnoneofusareokay.”“Iknow.Iknoweverything.”“How?”“WefoundT’Pocinthestairwell.She’dbeenbitten,butshehadn’tturnedyet.
Shetolduswhathappened.ShesaidMattcouldhavehelpedher,butdidn’t.Shewarnedusthathe’dgonenuts.”“Howcouldsheknowthat?”Garyasked.“Thethingsinsideher...toldher.Theyseemtohavesomesortoftelepathic
ability.Theyshareinformation.”“Great,”Garysaid.“Cloud-computingzombies.”“Exactly,” Jim said. “T’Poc even used theword ‘network.’These things are
connectedtosomekindofcentralinformationhub.”“WhatdidyoudowithT’Poc?”Raynaasked.“Whereisshenow?”JimwasstillfumblingforananswerwhenLeiasteppedin.“She’sinabetter
placenow,”shesaid.“She’sluckysheranintouswhenshedid.”“So it’s just like in themovies,”Gary said forlornly. “If you’re bitten by a
zombie,youbecomeone.”“Exceptfortheeyeballs,”Jimsaid.“BasedonwhatT’Poctoldus—andsome
other thingswe saw—I think it’s a parasite. It gets into our bodies and takesover.T’Pocsortofconfirmedthat.Shesaidshesensedalienthoughtsinsideher,controllingher.”
“What did she mean by ‘alien’?” Rayna asked. “You mean ‘alien’ as in‘strange’or‘foreign’?”“No,”Jimsaid.“I’mprettysureshemeant‘alien’asin‘notfromEarth.’”Alongintervalofshockedsilencefollowed.Garyfinallyendedit.“Da,da-dada-da,dada,”hesang.Rayna,Leia,andJimlookedathimreproachfully.“What the hell was that for?” Rayna asked. “I’m just trying to break the
tension,”Garysaid.“IfthiswereaStarTrekepisode,we’dtotallybegoingtoacommercialbreakrightnow.”
Chapter22TheSiegeFrom the just-abandoned next-door suite came a few not-very-determined
moans.Occasionally,therewasascratchingsound,oraloudthumpagainstthedoor,butforthemomenttheyappearedsafe.Jimused theopportunity tostudyhissurroundings indetail.After facingso
muchbloodandchaos,theroom’sorderlydecorwasdisorienting.Therewasthebathroom on their left; a door leading to a private bedroom on their right; infrontofthemakitchenettewithatable;andagainstthefarwallaseatingarea,complete with two chairs, a couch, and a coffee table. Rayna and Willy satacrossfromLeiaandJimwhileGaryhoveredanxiouslynearthedoor.Whateverinjuries he’d sustained vanished in the presence of the princess; he seemed inaweofher.“MayIbringYourHighnessabottleofwater?”heasked.“Ibettheminibaris
fullofthem.”“Whydon’tyoubringusallsomewater?”Jimsaid.“Sinceyou’reoffering.”Garypracticallyskippedacrosstheroomandreturnedwithfivechilledbottles
ofAquafina.Afterdistributing them to thegroup,he remained standingat theprincess’sside,asifawaitingfurtherinstructions.Leiaglancedathimandthenpointedlyturnedherhead.Finally,JimstoodupandwhisperedinGary’sear.“Sack,”hesaid.Gary’s face turned an alarming shade of red. He violently adjusted his
uniform.“Sorry,”hesaidtoLeia.Leia raisedherwaterbottle ina toast. “ToGary,” she said. “For savingour
lives.”“Me?”Garyreplied.“WhatdidIdo?”“When Jimand Iwere in that elevator, all alone, I thoughthewas ready to
giveup.Butyoufiguredouthowtoreachus,andsuddenlyweknewweweren’talone.Wegotouracttogetherandfoundourwayhere.”Garyseemedtorelaxalittle.Butonlyalittle.“IguessIdidmybit,”hesaid.“IjustwishI’dpickeduponMattsooner.He’d
beenactingweirdeversincewegot to thesuite,butIdidn’trealizehe’dgonenuts.”“Before he holed up in the bedroom, he walked around calling himself
‘Commodore,’”Rayna added. “Only he actually seemed to believe it.And hewasreally,reallyupsetaboutyouguys.Especiallyyou,Jim.Hekeptsayingthatwe couldn’t afford to takeonpassengersbecause it coulddisrupt the chainofcommand.Hecameoutofthebedroomwhileyouwereheadingdownthehall.Didn’tsayaword.JustgrabbedGarybythearm,slammedhimtwiceagainstthehallwaywall,andtossedhimaside.Thenhepulledmeawayfromthedoorandshutit.Hehelditwhileyoutriedtogetin.It’slikehewentcrazy.”“Thiswasnotcrazy,”Jimsaid.“Helosthishandanddidn’tmakeasound.He
head-buttedmeacross the roomandknockeda steel-framedooroff itshingeswithhisshoulder.That’snotcrazy.”“You’d be surprised,” Rayna said. “We study this stuff in my psychology
classes.Incasesofextremeagitationandpsychosis,patientscanperformfeatsofstrengthnotunlikewhatMattaccomplished.”“Hedidn’t seemall that agitated,”Leia said. “I looked at his facewhile he
was stranglingme. Therewas nothing there.Murderingmewas just a chore.Somethingtocheckoffhisto-dolist.”“Andhishandkeptshootingthegunafteritwascutoff,”Jimsaid.“Howdo
yourpsychologyclassesexplainthat?”“Look,I’monlyajunior,”Raynashrugged.“Maybehe’sarunner,”Garysaid.“Oneofthosesuper-zombiesfrom28Days
Later.Theymovelikethey’reintheOlympicsorsomething.Ifwe’reupagainstrunners,we’redead.Actually, I’m dead. I can’t domuch running. I . . . don’thavetherightshoes.”Leia put her feet on the coffee table, showing off her gigantic Star Trek
slippers.“Youandmeboth,”shesaid.“Butdon’tworry.All thezombieswe’veseen
areslowasGorns.”Garysighedwithrelief.“We’ve got another thing going for us,” Jim said. “Lights. Wherever the
zombies go, they knock out the lamps. This hallway’s dark. Sowas the thirdfloor. The only reason the atrium’s still bright is probably because they can’treachanything.Thefixturesaretoohigh.”“Whywouldtheyhatelight?”Raynaasked.“I’mnotsure,”Leiasaid.“Buthaveyoueverseenthosethirdeyesoftheirs
blink?”“I’vebeentoobusyhaulingasstonotice,”Garysaid.“You’reright,”Raynasaid.“Theyjuststareatyou.”“This could come in handy,” Gary said. “Maybe a bright flashlight could
disorientortemporarilyblindthem.”
“Mypoint,”Jimsaid,“isthattheseparticularzombiesseemtofunctionbestatnight.Soifwecanlastuntildawn,westandamuchbetterchanceofgettingoutofhere.”“Whosayswehavetogetoutofhere?”Raynaasked.“MaybeMattwasright.
Maybewejustneedtostayput.IfthepeopleinDawnoftheDeadcouldsurviveinashoppingmall,wesureashellcoulddoworsethanstayinginahotel.”Sheoutlinedaplanwithseveralveryattractivepossibilities.Thefirstorderof
businesswouldbetosneakdowntothelobbyandsomehowfindawaytoresealthefrontdoors.Nexttheywouldpickoffthezombiesonebyoneandroombyroom.Thecorpseswouldbehauledtotheroofanddroppedoffonesideofthebuilding.Thentheywouldtaketheirresidenceontheoppositeside,somewhereneartheGweagalRoom,foreasyaccesstothehotel’sabundantsupplyoffood,canned soft drinks, and water. There had to be enough resources for them tosurvivethreemonths,sixmonths,maybelonger—certainlylongenoughfortherestoftheworldtosortouttheapocalypse.“Thatsoundslikeagoodplantome,”Willysaid.“Better‘thedevilyouknow’
andallthat.Atleasthere,wehavesomecontrol.”Jim shook his head. “You guys don’t knowwhat you’re talking about,” he
said.“Totakethehotel,we’dhavetoeliminatehundreds,maybethousands,ofundead.IdoubtIcouldaccomplishthatwithafullplatoonofRangers.Certainlynotwithouthighcasualties.”“TheydiditinDawnoftheDead,”Raynashrugged.“Theotherproblem,”Jimcontinued,“isthatyou’reassumingthepowerstays
on.”“I’m not assuming anything,” Rayna said. “If the lights go out, we’ll use
candles.Peoplesurvivedforcenturieswithoutelectricity.”“If the power goes out,” Jim continued, “all of the electronically controlled
doorsareprogrammedtoopen.Thisisabasictenetoffiresafety.Intheeventofanemergency,youdon’twant to trapanyone inside thebuilding.Sowecouldspendallweekfollowingyourplan—butassoonasthegridgoesdown,it’llbeopenseasonattheBotanyBay.”Raynawentovertothewindowandopenedthecurtain.LikeDonnie’sroom
onthethirdfloor,thisonedidn’tfeatureaviewofanythingbeyondtheadjacentparkinggarage.“Iwishweknewwhatwasgoingonoutthere.”“I’d like to say there aremillions ofNationalGuard soldiermowing down
zombieswithM-16s,butthatseemsprettyunlikely,”Garysaid,sighing.“There’sonewaytoknowforsure,”Jimsaid.“Ifwecangettoacornersuite,
we’llhaveagreatviewofdowntownHouston.We’llseeeverythinghappeningoutside.We’llseeneighboringbuildings.Maybewecanwave tosomeoneand
signal for help.And,most important,we canwatch the zombies at dawn.Seewhatthesunlightdoestothem.Iftheystarttoretreatwhenitgetslightoutside,Ithinkweneedtotakeourchanceandgetoutwhilewecan.”“Thatsoundsfine,”Raynasaid.“Buthowdowegettothecornersuite?”“Using the interior connecting doors. There are three rooms separating our
currentpositionfromtheobjective.Evenifthey’reallfullofzombies,we’vegotenoughammotopushourwaythrough.”“Who’s‘we’?”Garyasked.“LeiaandI,”Jimsaid.“Oratleastthat’swhatI’dplanned.”Jimturnedtoher.“Areyouupforthis?”heasked.“Notreally,”shesaid.“ButI’llgoanyway.”“Ienterfirst,followedbyLeia,”Jimsaid.“Raynawaitsatthedoor.Ifthings
gosouth,sheletsusbackin.Understood?”“Understood,”Raynasaid.“Whataboutus?”GaryandWillyasked.“You wait until the all-clear, then join us. Maybe later I’ll give you some
trainingtips.Butrightnow,there’snotimetoteachyouhowtosweepabuildingforunfriendlies.Sojusthangback.Gotit?”“Noproblem,”Garysaid.“Seemssmarttome,”Willyagreed.“Redshirtsusuallyleadtheway,andwe
allknowhowthatworksout.”Leiapickeduphergunbeltandputiton.JimexaminedhisTaserandchecked
tomakesureitcarriedacartridge.Then,amomentlater,hecheckedagain.“Sohowareyoudoing,soldier?”Raynaasked.“Edgy,”Jimsaid.“Canyoublameme?”HewatchedLeiaclickhersparecartridgeintoherTaser.“Maybewe’llgetluckyagain,”Raynasaid.“Maybeallthreeoftheserooms
willbeempty.”“Thisfloorispacked,”Jimtoldher.“Ilookedatthecheck-inschedule.Odds
are,we’regoingtomeetsomeveryunhappyguests.”Asiftoconfirmtheirfears,ascratchingnoisewaftedthroughthewall.“What’sthat?”Garyasked.“I’mprettysureitisn’thousekeeping,”Jimsaid.Nexttheyheardamuffledmoan.Thenanother.Thereweretwodistinctvoices
—onelowandmasculine,theotherhigher.Jimlistenedintently.“Soundslikeatleastacoupleofthem,”hesaid.“They’retoourright.Ithink,
basedonthescratching,thatthey’retryingtogetintooroutofthebedroomorbathroom.”
“Aretheyaftersomeone?”Leiaasked.“Couldtherebeasurvivor?”“We’llknowinaminute,”Jimsaid.JimquietlyunlockedthedoorandleftthekeysintheknobforRayna.“Good luck, you guys,” Gary said. “I’ve played some intense first-person
shooters,butthisisonanotherlevel.”“It’sbecausethere’snoresetbutton,”Jimsaid.Hegesturedforquiet,openedthedooracoupleofinches,andlookedaround.
Chapter23Mirror,MirrorThe suite’s lightswere on, giving Jim a refreshingly unobstructed view.He
spied two zombies, an adult male and an adolescent female, energeticallyclawingatthebathroomdoor.Theyfailedtonoticehimasheeasedintotheroom.First,helookedaroundto
makesure therewere just two targets.Thenhe tookcarefulaimat theirbackswithhisTaserandfired.Thedartslandedsquarelybetweenthecreatures’shoulderblades.Jimapplied
the juice.Afterafewsecondsoffrenetic jerking, theyfell to thefloorand laystill.LeiafollowedJimintotheroom.Shehelpedhimdragthecorpsesawayfrom
thebathroomdoorandinto the livingarea.Thebodies left longtrailsofgreenslime—allthatremainedoftheiralienthirdeyes.Theycheckedthebedroom,findingitemptybutinashambles.“Now,let’sseeaboutthebathroom,”Jimsaid.Leiaknockedonthedoor.Shetoldwhoevermightbeinsidethatitwassafeto
comeout.Noresponse.Raynawatchedfromthedoorway,holdingthedoorknobinadeathgrip.Leia knocked and spoke again.She turned to Jim and shrugged.Heput his
boottothedoorandkickeditin.“Hello?”hesaidasheentered.ThespacelookedjustlikeeveryothersuitebathroomintheBotanyBay:lots
ofwhitetile,adoublevanity,andalargesunkentub.Inthisparticulartublayawoman perhaps forty years old. The only part of her body visible above thewaterlinewasherhead,cradledbyan inflatablebathpillow.Her faceworeanexpressionofserenerepose.Orperhapsrelief.Jimcouldn’tdecidewhich.Onthenearedgeofthetubhenoticedasmallpictureofwhatheassumedwas
thewoman’sfamily.Shestood,smiling,besideaboyofperhapsseven,agirlofmaybefifteen,andherhusband.Jimrecognizedthegirlandthehusbandasthetwozombieswhowerepoundingonthedoor.Hefeltlightheaded,asifhisspiritweretryingdesperatelytofleetheroomonitsown.“Idon’tthinkIcanlookatthis,”Leiasaid.Jim,ontheotherhand,couldn’tlookaway.Onthefarsideofthetubglittered
severalpiecesof a small, shatteredmirror.One shardwasbloody. Jim figuredthewomanused it to slit herwrists.Trappedwhenherown family joined thecannibaldead,she’ddonewhatJimcouldn’thelpbutseeasasensiblething.Shedrewahotbath,climbedin,andopenedherveins.Theplanhadsucceededbrilliantly.Thestillwaterwaslividred,chargedwith
everydropofthewoman’slifeforce.“Let’sgetoutofhere,”Leiasaid.“She’stall,”heheardhimselfsay.“Maybeherclotheswouldfityou.”“JesusChrist,”Leiasaid.“Areyoukidding?”“Youneedsomethingtowear.Shedoesn’t.”Leiawalkedout into themain livingarea.She sawRayna,Gary, andWilly
peeringinfromtheadjacentroom.“Well?”Raynaasked.“Allclear,”Leiasaid.“I’mgoingtocheckforclothes.”Leiaopenedoneoftheclosets.Severalwomen’sgarmentswerehangingfrom
the rack, but the sizes appeared too small. Leia picked through them anyway,hoping to get lucky. Therewas something comforting about browsing a dressrack in themiddleof a zombie apocalypse.Shebecame so engrossed that shedidn’t immediately notice the young boy standing stock-still in the closet’sfarthestcorner.Aboywitha thirdeyeonhis rightcheek.Shedidn’t spothimuntilhelunged.Leia leaptbackfromthedoor,screaming.She trippedoveranightstandand
fell,landinghardonherback.Inthebathroom,Jimheardthecommotion.Hegotupandstartedtorun.But
atthelastpossiblemomentsomethinggrabbedhisankle,sendinghimcrashingtothefloor.Herolledover just in time tosee thewomanrisingoutof the tub,herhand
stillaroundhisleg,crimsonwaterspillingoverthesidesandsplashingontothefloor.Hekickedthecreatureintheface,knockingitbackwardintothebath.Then
hegottohisfeetandran,pausingonlytopullthebathroomdoorshut.Taserinhand,hesprintedintothelivingroom.HefoundLeiastandingnear
Gary,who’dpushedtheclosetdoorshutbeforethezombiegotallthewayout.Its right leg and right arm flailedwildly.Gary andWilly held thedoor firmlyagainstitstorso,pinningit.LeiaandRaynastoodsidebyside.LeialeveledherTaseratthecreature.“Okay,”shesaid.“Letitout.”GaryandWillyletgo.Thedoorslidopenandthemonsterspilledfacedown
onto the floor. Itwas barefoot andworewhat appeared to be cotton pajamas;
theywerecoveredwithlittleversionsoftheoriginalEnterpriseseries.Leiafiredadartintoitsshoulderandunleashedablastofcurrent.Insecondsitwasover.“Didhetouchyou?”Jimasked.Sheshookherhead.“Howaboutyou?”heaskedGary.“IthinkI’mgoingtopuke,”hereplied.“Don’t,”Jimreplied.“Thebathroom’soccupied.”In fact, they could hear the bathroom’s occupant scratching furiously at the
door.“Themom?”Leiasaid.“Yeah,”Jimsaid.“I’llberightback.”Gary,Willy, andLeia listened as Jimwalked back to the bathroom, pushed
openthedoor,andfiredtheTaser.Theyheardthesplashofthecreaturefallingbackintothetub.Jimwalkedbackintothebedroom.Helookedat thebodyoftheboyonthe
floor.Thenhepickeditupbythebackofitspajamatopandluggeditintothebathroom.Afterwardhedidthesamewiththebodiesofthefatheranddaughter.Thenheshutthebathroomdoor,walkedbackintothekitchenette,andsatdownatthetablewiththeothers.“Whatdidyoudowiththem?”Leiaasked.“Ijust...linedthemup,”Jimsaid.“Maybe we should put something over them,” Gary said. “A sheet or
something.”“They’redead,”Jimsaid.“Andwe’vealreadydone thebest thingwecould
possiblydobymakingsuretheystaythatway.Don’tthinkaboutit.Justpushitinto thebackofyourmind. Iknow it sounds impossible,but trustme, it’s theonlywaytohandlestufflikethis.”“Willitstayinthebackofmymind?”Leiaasked.“No,”Raynasaid.“Itwon’t.”“It will stay there long enough. Right nowwe’ve got bigger issues to deal
with.”“Likewhat?”Garyasked.“LikethefactthatLeianearlyboughtitbecauseIwascareless,”Jimsaid.“I
saw theboyin thephotograph.Iknewthisroombelongedtoafamilyoffour,andthatonlythreeofthefamilymemberswereaccountedfor.ButdidIdothemath?DidIstoptothinkforaminute?No.”“Youcan’tblameyourself,”Leiatoldhim.“Ishouldhavecheckedthecloset
whenIopenedit.”“Idoblamemyself,”Jimsaid.“Itwasmyideatogotothecornersuite.My
plan.”“We’ll justbemore carefulgoing forward,”Willy assuredhim. “Maybewe
callout to thezombiesbeforeweopen thedoor.Round themup, ifyouknowwhatImean.Gettheirattentionsonobodysneaksuponus.”“Now there’s an idea,” Gary said. He went up to the connecting door and
tappedonit.“Hello?”hecalled.“Anybodyinthere?Hello,hello?”Inresponsecamealoud,forcefulknockingfromtheotherside.Garyrecoiled
so quickly that he lost his balance and fell backward. Willly let out a shortscream.“Don’tshoot!”avoiceshoutedback.“I’minnocent!”Garypushedhimselftohisfeet.“Atalkingzombie?”“There’snosuchthing,”Leiasaid.“That’satalkinghuman.”
Chapter24WolfintheFold“Areyouokay?”Jimshoutedthroughthedoor.“Itwasself-defense,”thevoicecalledback.“Ididn’tdoitonpurpose!”JimandLeiaexchangedquizzicalglances.“I’mnotpolice,”Jimstatedloudly.“Iworkwiththehotel.Idon’tcarewhat
youdidorwhoyoudiditto.ButIneedtogetintoyourroom,okay?”“Allright.”“Take three steps backward. I have a passkey, and I’m going to open the
door.”“Allright,”thevoicerepeated,slightlyfainterthistime.JimtookthekeyfromRayna,unlockedthedoor,andopenedit.He was confronted by a massive Klingon in full battle armor. A massive
Klingonthat, judgingfromhisbloodshoteyesandthemoistnessofhischeeks,hadbeencrying.“Martock,”Jimsaid.TheKlingonlookedathisrescuers,thenburstintotearsagain.“Itwasself-defense,”hesaidbetweensobs.“Shewouldhavekilledme.She
waslikesomekindofmonster.”He wrapped his gigantic arms around Jim, buried his head on his right
shoulder,andcontinuedweeping.Jimpattedhimontheback,lethimcryforafewmoments,andthenspoke.“Youmean thegirl inyourbooth,”he said. “Theonewhowas sleepingon
yourcot.”“HernamewasKaren,”Martocksaid.“Ikepttellinghertogouptoourroom.
Shewas so sick. But shewouldn’tmove.After the vendor area shut down, Istarted packing up the booth, putting awaymyvaluables, and somehow I losttrackofher.Couldn’tfindheranywhere.Theplacewasdesertedandhercotwasempty.IwasrushingbecauseIhadtobringacommissiontotheKlingonFeast—”“Matt’sbat’leth,”Garyremarked.Jimmotionedforhimtokeepquiet.“Andthenwhat?”“I was getting ready to leave when I heard something behind my booth.
Somethingrummagingbehindthepartition.IpulleditasideandsawKarenonherhandsandkneesonthefloor.Atfirstmymindrefusedtoacceptwhatitsaw.
ButthenIrealizedthatshewascrouchingoversomeone.Abody.Abodywhosestomachhadbeencutopen.Bothofherhandswerefilledwithintestines,andasIwatchedshebroughtthepileuptoherbloodymouthandtookabite.Andthen...thenshecameafterme.”“Let’sgositdown,”Jimsuggested.HeguidedMartockbacktothediningareatable.Thefiveofthemsatdown.“Ididn’tknowwhatwaswrong,”Martockcontinued.“Ididn’tknowwhatto
do. Imean,what’s theprocedurewhenyourgood friendsuddenly turns intoacannibal?”“I’mguessingyourun,”Leiaoffered.“That’sright,”Martocksaid.“Ibackedaway,almost trippingover thedamn
cot. She followedme. Shewasmoaning. Itwas horrible. I ran awaywith thebat’lethstill inmyhands. I ran to themen’sroomandhid inoneof thestalls.Justwaitedinthere,withmyfeetuponthetoilet.MaybeaminuteortwolaterIheardthedooropen.AndlikeanidiotIsaid,’Who’sthere?’AllIheardinreplywasmoaning.Iheardherslowlystaggerthroughthebathroom.Isawherfeetgoby.Theywerebloody.OnceshegotpastIdecidedtoopenthedoorandrunforit.But just as I did, I caught sight of her.And sheofme.And then I noticedsomethingthatwasathousandtimesworsethanthebloodorthemoaning.”“Theeye,”Jimsaid.“Theredone.”“That’s right,” Martock said. “She had a huge third eye on her forehead.
Somehow I knew that it was responsible for what happened. For what she’dbecome.Igotmad.Iswungthebat’lethandI....”“Iknow,”Jimsaid.“Youtookherhead.Isawthebody.”“Idroppedthebat’lethinthemen’sroomandran,”Martocksaid.“Iknowthis
soundscrazy,butifyoulookbehindmyboothyou’llseewhatshedid.Shewaslikeananimal.”“Youmeanyou’vebeenupherethiswholetimehidingfromthepolice?”Jim
asked.“Youhavenoideawhat’sgoingon?Youhaven’theardanyofthenoisefromthehallway?”Martock removedabloodiedMP3player fromhispocket.“For the last few
hoursI’vebeenalonewithJerryGoldsmithandJamesHorner,savoringmylastfewhoursoffreedom,”hesaid.“Well,there’sgoodnewsandbadnews,”Garysaidcheerfully.“Whichdoyou
wanttohearfirst?”Theybrokeitdownforhimquickly.Thegoodnewswasthathewasn’tgoing
tojail.Thebadnewswasthattheworldwasending.Allthingsconsidered,theKlingonseemedrelieved.“Whathappensnow?”heasked.
“We’reworkingonit,”Jimsaid.“Isthereanyoneelseinyoursuite?”“No, itwas justme andKaren.We’d bunk together at conventions to save
money.”“Wait,KarenMasterson?”Leiaasked.“Thecostumedesigner?”Martocknodded.“Ithoughtyourbikinilookedfamiliar.That’soneofKaren’s
pieces,isn’tit?”“Ihiredhertomakeitforme,”Leiasaid.“Butifit’sokaywithyou,I’dliketo
exchangeitforsomethingelse.It’snotreallypracticalunderthecircumstances.”“Helpyourself,”Martocksaid.“I’msureKarenwouldn’tmind.”Leiapattedhimontheshouldersandenteredtheadjoiningroom.Meanwhile,
Jim introducedMartock to the restofhis crewandbriefedhimon theplan toinvadethecornersuite.“I’ve been thinking about something you told me downstairs,” Jim said.
“WhenIwaslookingatyourweaponsinthevendingarea,yousaidyouhadafewlivebladesupinyourbedroom.”“Morethanafew,”Martockbegan.Before he could elaborate, Leia emerged from the adjoining suite. Gary
gasped and grabbed Jim’s forearm.She’d changed intowhat he recognized asPrincessLeia’s outfit from the openingmoments of the originalStarWars—ahooded,all-whiterobecinchedaroundherwaistwithasilverbelt.“Whatdoyouthink?”shesaid.“Itevencamewithshoes.”“It’sspectacular,”Garysputtered.“I’mjustgladIfoundsomethinginmysize,”Leiashrugged.Sheglancedat
thetagthatwasdanglingfromhersleeveandthensaid,“Mr.MichaelBigalowof Dallas is going to be very disappointed when he learns I’ve taken hiscommission.”Rayna laughed. “Michael Bigalow’s a drag queen,” she said. “He puts on
thesereallyfunnyburlesqueshows.There’safemaleTimeLordcalledDr.Who-ha,andthenanymphomaniacBorgcalledSixtyofNine.”“Well, I’m guessing tonight’s performance is canceled,”Leia said. She tore
thetagoffthesleeveandtosseditaside.“Wearitwithhonor,”Martocksaid.“Iwill,”Leiasaid.“Andjustwaituntilyouseetheaccessories.”Sheducked
intotheadjoiningsuiteandreturnedamomentlaterwithafour-foot-longstaff;oneendformedaclubandtheotherfeaturedafan-shapedblade.JimglancedatMartock.“Pleasetellmethat’sreal.”“It’s a lirpa,”Martock said. “AVulcan ceremonialweapon first seen in the
originalTrekepisode,’AmokTime.’”“Youdon’thavetosellmeonit,”Jimsaid.“Gotanymore?”
“You can help yourself,” Martock said. “Everything’s in our suite. Just becarefulbecauseit’salllive.”Jim,Leia,Willy,andGarywalkednextdoor.“MerryChristmas,guys,”Leiasaid.“AndaHappyNewYear,”Jimrepliedashesurveyedthesuite’scontents.Thecenterofthepublicareawasmostlytakenupbytwolong,wheeledracks
filledwithgarmentbags.ButJimwasmore interested in thehardwarearrayedonthekitchenettetable.He saw four wicked-looking swords that he recognized as yan— Klingon
ceremonialblades.Hepickedoneup,checkeditsedge,andthentookacoupleexperimental swings. Gary andWilly grabbed two more and started to play-fight.“Nobodytouchmylirpa,”Leiasaid.“Iwouldn’tthinkoftouchingit,”Jimsaid.“Atleastnotuntilthethirddate.”GarylaughedbutLeiaseemeddisconcerted.“Sothat’showthisworks?”sheasked.“Howwhatworks?”Jimsaidashecontinuedtestingthesword.“Webreak intoa roomandputdownanentire familyofzombies thatwere
living human beings not too long ago. And then a few minutes later we’regoofingaroundwithplayswordsandI’m tellingyounot to touchmy lirpa. Isthathowthisworks?”“That’s pretty much it,” Jim said. “You push down the stuff that’s already
happenedtomakeroomforthestuffthatcomesnext.”“Isee,”Leiasaid.“Howhardcanyoupushbeforeitpushesback?”“Youcanaskthatquestiontoatherapist,”Jimsaid.“Assumingtheworldgoes
backtonormalandwestillhavetherapists.”“Iwantabat’leth,”Garysaid.“CanIhaveabat’leth?”“No,” Jim replied. “Nobody gets a weapon until they have a chance to
practicewithit.Thatmeansyou,mister.”Garyfrownedandputdownhissword.“Theprincessgetsaweapon,”hesaid.“Shedidn’thavetopractice.”“Shegetsextracreditforreal-worldexperience,”Jimreplied.“Asfortherest
ofyou,nobodygetssomuchasapairoftoenailclippersuntilwegooversomebasics.Ifit’sanyconsolation,we’restickingwithTaserswhenwehitthecornersuite.”“Arewestilldoingthat?”Leiaasked.“We’rejustonedooraway.We’dbecrazynottotakethechance.”Garywalkedtotheinteriordoorthatopenedtothecornersuiteandputhisear
againstit.
“Idon’thearanything,”hesaid.“Maybe that’s good,” Jim said. “But maybe not. These things seem pretty
lethargicwhenthere’snothingtoeat.Adozenofthemcouldbemillingaroundoverthere,waitingforroomservicetoarrive.”Garyshookhishead.“You’rethekingoftheworst-casescenarios.”“When you plan for theworst, sometimes you’re pleasantly surprised,” Jim
said.“Nowlet’sputonourgamefacesandgetthisdone.”JimunholsteredhisTaser andnodded toLeia,who tookuppositionbehind
him.Thenheunlockedthedoorasquietlyaspossible,pusheditopenaninch,lookedaround,andsteppedinside.Thelightswereon.Nothingwasoutofplace.Againstthefarwall,Jimcould
seeabankofcurtainedwindows.Helookedtohisleft.Sittingonanoverstuffedchairwasamanwithalaptop
computer balanced on his knees.He snapped it shut and stared at Jim,mouthagape.Jimstaredback.“Saysomething,”themanfinallysaid.Jimsmiled.“Dr.Sandoval,Ipresume?”Themanexhaled,seeminglyrelieved.“Atyourservice.”
Chapter25ByInferno’sLightA few minutes later, Jim and the rest of his group stood together on the
balconyofthecornersuite,takingtheirfirstlookatdowntownHouston.“We’reindeepshit,”Garysaid.“DeepliketheMarianaTrench.”“Wecan’tleavehere,”Raynasaid.“There’snoplacetogo.”Theirperchprovidedapeekinsidetheglass-cladskyscraperssurroundingthe
BotanyBay.Someweredark,butothersstillhadlights,makingiteasytoseethezombies inside,wandering listlessly throughdrab,cubicle-filledspaces. Inonemeetingroomapackoftheundeadgnawedonacorpsesplayedacrossanovalconferencetable.Downthestreet,aDoubletreeHotelwasburningfuriously,itstopfloorsswathedinsmokeandflame.Noonefoughttheblaze.“ThisreallyistheApocalypse,”Leiasaid.“Itcouldbeworse,”Jimsaid.Hepointeddueeast,pastthedark,stillbodyof
water known as the Houston Ship Channel. The horizon was lit up bright asdawnbyaraginginferno.“That’sBaytownComplex—oneoftheworld’slargestpetrochemicalrefineries.Theyprocesshalfamillionbarrelsofoileveryday.”Thesmellofburninggasolinehungheavyintheair.“Idon’tthinkthey’llmaketheirquotatoday,”Garysaid.“ThatfireisontheothersideoftheSanJacintoRiver,”Jimsaid.“Whatever
thisplaguemightbe,it’sspreading.Maybeit’severywhere.”“Thisisunbelievable,”Raynasaid.“Lookoverthere.”She pointed to a sleek-looking, gray streetcar, part of the city’s Metrorail
system,layingonitssidewitheverytopsidewindowbrokenout.Thecarlookedtobeat leastahundredfeet longandhad toweighseveral tons.Yetsomehowthecreatureshadknockeditoffthetracksandtippeditover.“There’s strength in numbers,” Jim said. “On an individual level, no single
zombieisverystrong.Buttheyseemtounderstandthattheycanworkasateam.Likearmyants.Theycannetworktheirthoughtsandplanacoordinatedattack.”Whichdoesn’tbodewell forus,hewasabout tocontinue,but thenhisgaze
landedonayoungman staring throughawindow in anearbyofficebuilding.Theguyworeapairofkhakipantsandablue,short-sleevedpoloshirt.Earlierthatveryday,hehadprobablybeensome-one’sofficeintern.Now,missingalefthandandaconsiderableportionofface,hewasazombie.
Azombiewithathirdeyesproutingoutofitsrightcheek.
Athirdeyethat,Jimrealized,waslookingathim.Thecreaturepoundedononeoftheoffice’sfloor-to-ceilingwindows.Hewas
shortly joined by three more undead, all of whom commenced moaning andpounding.Jimpointedthemout.“Watchthis,”hesaid.Amomentlaterthemuch-abusedwindowfinallygaveway.Itfelltothestreet
andshattered.Theglasswasquicklyfollowedbythezombieinterninthebluepolo shirt. Utterly infatuated by the sight of the Botany Bay survivors, itmindlesslysteppedoutintonothingness.The other zombies likewise tumbled into the void. Then another undead
creatureshambledtothewindow,spottedJim,startedmoaning,andfell.“We’dbettergoinside,”hesaid.“We’reattractingtoomuchattention.”“Seriously?” Gary said. “I could watch those dipshits walk the plank all
night.”Jimpointedtoanotherbuilding.Zombiesonthreefloorswerestaringatthem.
Hereandthere,inonelocationandanother,thecreatureswerebecomingawareof their existence.Hewondered how long itwould be until every flesh-eater,everywhere,wasgivingthemthebigredeye.“Whyaretheylookingatus?”Willyasked.“Isn’t it obvious?” Jim said. “We’re all that’s left. And right now they’re
uploadingtheirdiscoverytothenetwork.”“I’veseenenough,”Garydecided.“Let’sgoin.”They stepped back into the cool, quiet refuge of theBotanyBay’s seventh-
floorcornersuite.“How’stheview?”Dr.Sandovalasked.The events of the last six hours had left him physically unscathed. His
Starfleet uniformwas still immaculate. Hewas still the spitting image of theVoyager’sdoctor.“I’veseenbetter,”Jimsaid.“Howlonghasitbeenlikethis?”“DuringthedayIcouldtellthatsomethingwashappening.Butitwasn’tuntil
eveningthatIunderstoodthescope—andthenature—ofthecrisis.Aftersunsetthereanimateswerefreetomoveoutdoors.Theypursuedandconsumedeverylivingthingtheyencountered.”“Wenoticethattheyseemtolikethedarkness,”Leiasaid.“Iwouldn’tsaythey‘like’it,butit’scertainlyabetterenvironmentforthem,”
Sandoval said. “Their crude, parasitic eyes lack retinaswithwhich to regulatelightintake.”Jimandthereststaredathim.
“Howdoyouknowthat?”Garyasked.“I’m an exobiologist. Iwork for the Special ProjectsOffice of theDefense
Advance Research Projects Agency, which is part of the Department ofDefense.”“Right,butyousoundlikeyou’vedissectedoneofthesethings,”Raynasaid.“I’ve been studying these creatures for the better part of a decade. I was
scheduledtopresentapaperabouttheirocularadaptationsattheconvention.”“YouweregoingtotelltheworldaboutthesethingsatGulfCon?”Jimsaid.“No.IwasgoingtogivetheTrekkiesaboilerplatespeechaboutwhetherthe
lifeformsin theTrekuniversecouldactuallyexist.Myresearchfindingswerefortherealconvention.”“Therealconvention?”Raynasaid.“Correct,”Sandovalsaid.“Themuchsmaller,highlyclassifiedgatheringfor
whichGulfConservesasafront.”Sandovalsurveyedthestunnedfacessurroundinghim,thensighed.“IsupposeI’dbetterstartatthebeginning,”hesaid.
Chapter26NothingHuman“Therestofyoumightwanttositdown,”Sandovalsaid.“I’llbringyouupto
speedasfastasIcan,butitwilltakeacoupleofminutes.”Theydutifullygatheredintheseatingareanexttothewindows.Martocksat
apartfromthegroup,stillsulking.Sandovalremainedstanding.“LetmetellyoualittlebitaboutGulfCon,”hesaid.“Thisconventionisthe
one and only event staged by a Dallas-based marketing outfit called StarUnlimited. Star is a front corporation for a Newark, New Jersey–based firmcalled Horizons Exports, which ships sensitive products and materials tooverseas governments and organizations. Horizon, in turn, is a subsidiary ofSTNGCorp., amultinational conglomeratewith its fingers ineverything fromprivatesecuritytomilitary-baseconstruction.”“I met some of those guys in Afghanistan,” Jim said. “We called them
Stingers.Theywererealassholes.”“Perhaps,but theyknowhow tokeep secrets.That’swhy theyget somuch
business from aLangley,Virginia, organization called theCentral IntelligenceAgency.”“Wait a minute,” Rayna said. “You’re telling me that the CIA sponsors
GulfCon?”“Precisely.”“Damn,”Garysaid.“Ididn’trealizeTrekkieswereanationalsecuritythreat.”“They’re not,” Sandoval continued. “But they do provide ideal camouflage.
Forthepastfiveyearswe’veusedGulfConasacoverforasmallerconvention-within-a-convention—a select gathering of scientists,militarymen, and covertoperativesfromacrosstheUnitedStates.”“That’sridiculous,”Garysaid.“Couldn’tyoujuste-maileachother?”“Thematterswediscuss are too sensitive.EveryAugust roughly fiftyofus
convenehereinperson.WedressuplikeTrekkiesandtrytogetintothespiritoftheevent,whichhelpsourcover.Whoevercomesasthemostobscurecharacteractuallywinsaprize.”“What’ssoobscureaboutyou?”Willysaid.“You’re theemergencymedical
hologramfromVoyager.Everybodyknowsthat.”“Ah,except I’mnot,”Sandovalsaid.“I’mtheemergencymedicalhologram
on the Enterprise-E from the movie First Contact. My uniform is slightly
different.Studystillsfromthefilmandyou’llsee.”“That’sprettydastardly,”Garysaid.“Isaluteyou.”“Whatdoyoutalkaboutatthisconvention-in–a-convention?”Jimasked.Sandovalpointedtothewindow.“Them,”hesaid.“Or,moreaccurately,thethingsthatmadethem.”“Youknowwhattheyare?”Jimsaid.“Tellus.Telluseverything.”“Allright,”Sandovalsaid.“TheinformationI’mabouttoshareisclassified,
butgivencurrentcircumstances, I think fulldisclosure is inorder.Pleaseholdyourquestionsuntil theend.We’refacingadeadline,soIneed todisseminatethisquickly.”“Deadline?”Jimsaid.“Whatkindof...?”Sandovalhelduphisrighthandforsilence,thenbegan.“AreanyofyoufamiliarwithProjectGenesis?”heasked.“WrathofKhan!”Willyexclaimed, likehewasansweringthefinalquestion
ofaStarTrektriviabowl.“It’stheprocessthattransformedlifelessplanetsintolife-bearingones.”Sandovalshookhishead.“No, I’m speaking of the real Project Genesis, a 2001 NASAmission that
collectedsolarwindsamplesandthenreturnedthemtoearthinasmallreentrycapsule.”“Ican’twaittohearwhatthishastodowithzombies,”Leiasaid.“During reentry, theGenesis capsule’s parachute failed to open. It impacted
thegroundatDugwayProvingGround inUtahdoing just shyof twohundredmilesperhour.Themalfunctionwaspubliclyblamedonadesignflaw.Inreality,theshiphitameteorshower;wewere lucky toget itbackatall.Threeof therocks were trapped in the ship’s collectors and returned to Earth. They werecomplex,silica-basednodulesofalmostuniformsize.Wescoopedthemup,tookthemtotheJohnsonSpaceflightCenter,andputtheminacleanroom.Wedidn’tknowwhatwehad.Weweretryingtoprotectthemfromus.”“Sowhatdidyouhave?”Jimasked.“Toputitsimply,spaceseeds.Godknowshowlongthey’ddriftedthroughthe
void,seekingaplacetotakeroot.”“Buttheywererocks,”Garysaid.“Howcouldtheybealive?”“Wediscoveredtheirtruenaturewhenwecutoneinhalf,”Sandovalsaid.“A
technicianwassomehowexposedduringtheprocess,eitherinhalingorperhapsingestingabitof thematerial.Within threehourshewas sick.Withinanothertwohewasdead.Andshortlyafterthat...”“Thefirstzombie,”Garysaid.“Thefirstreanimate,”Sandovalcorrected.“Fortunately,thishappenedon-site.
Wecontainedhimassoonaswerealized—andforcedourselvestoaccept—thetruth.Still,thesituationalmostgotoutofcontrol.Thetechnician,whomwelaterdesignated Patient One, bit two medical workers and a security guard beforebeingsubdued.Allofthemfellsick,died,andreanimated.This,toputitmildly,changedthetenorofourinvestigation.”“Youshouldhaveshotthembackintospace,”Jimsaid.“The material was deemed too dangerous even to move. The government
constructedasecretundergroundcontainmentfacilityatJohnson.That’swhereI’vespentthepastfiveyears.”“Whatdidyoulearn?”Raynaasked.“Weexposedthesamplestovariousplantsandanimalstoascertainthethreat
theyposedtoterrestrial life.Wedeterminedthateachaliencell—andIusetheterm‘cell’loosely,becausetheirinternalworkingshavenothingincommonwithours—can produce reanimationwithin twelve hours of ingestion. The victimsdiedandthenresurrected,alwayswithanextraeye.Theprocessdidn’tworkonreptiles,amphibians,fish,andotherlowerlifeforms.Theirneuralnetworksaretooprimitivetohandletherewiringthealiensdo.”“Whatsortofrewiring?”Raynaasked.“Theyshutdownthingslikebreathingandhigh-ordermentalacuity.Butthey
keep motor ability. Or rather, the best motor ability a walking corpse canmanage.Thealienscanonlygettheirhoststomoveataslowwalk.”“So,norunnersthen,”Garysaid.“Excuseme?”Sandovalreplied.“Youknow,fastzombiesthatcanreallyhaulass,”Garysaid.Sandovalsmiledawearysmile.“Norunners,”hesaid.“Didyoutrytocommunicatewiththem?”Jimasked.“Ofcourse.Wequicklyrealizedtheyaren’tsentient.Alltheywant,really,is
to...”“Eat?”Raynasaid.“Actuallyno,”Sandovalcontinued.“Theirnutritionalneedsaremetbyatype
ofphotosynthesis.Givethemabitofprettymuchanythingfromthebackendofthe electromagnetic spectrum, from ultraviolet to microwaves, and they’regood.”“Sowhat’swiththebiting?”Jimasked.“It’saformofreproduction.Theyneedhoststoreproduce,andtheirmodeof
infection is ingenious. They destroymost of an infectee’s brain, but keep theportionresponsibleformotorfunctionsandhunger.Thereanimatesareinflamedbyaprimalurgetoconsumeothercreatures.”
“Howdoesthishelpwithreproduction?”Garyasked.“They’redrivenbyanoverwhelmingdesiretohunt,buttheyaren’tverygood
at it.They’reslowandphysicallyweak.Somostoften,unless theysurpriseorcorner theirprey, all theycanmanage is abiteor twobefore their ‘meal’getsaway. Thosewould-be victims then crawl into a corner, die, and rise again—undernewmanagement,ofcourse.”“Reproductionvia a crappyhunting strategy,”Gary said. “That’snot avery
elegantapproach.”Sandovalgesturedtowardthewindow.“Butitworks,”hesaid.“Idon’tsupposeyoudevelopedavaccine,”Jimsaid.“I’mafraidnot.Thediseaseisuniversallyfatal.Welearnedthisbystudying
forty-six intentionally infected animal specimens, plus seven accidentallyinfectedhumans.”“Seven?”Raynasaid.“Youonlymentionedfour.”“AftertheincidentwithPatientOne,weinstitutedextremesafeguards.Butin
spite of those, the organisms managed to reach three more people. When itbecameapparentthattheywerestilltakingvictimsevenunderhighlycontrolledconditions, active studyceased.Nowwe focusoncontainment.Orat leastwedid,untilthisweek.”“Howdidtheygetout?”Garyasked.“I don’t know all the details, because Iwasn’t therewhen it happened.On
Wednesdayeveningat5:12p.m.amassivecomputeranomalyopenedthedoorsto the containment facilities.Many of the specimens they housed hadn’t beenexaminedinyears.Itwasn’tworththerisk.”“Whatcausedthecomputerfailure?”Garyasked.“Itmighthavebeenacyberattack.ThoughIwonderifthealiensthemselves
were responsible.After seeing the insidious approaches they’ve used to infectbiologicalentities,Ican’tdismisstheideathattheyfoundsomewaytoinfiltratethecomplex’scomputers.”“Soifallhellisbreakingloose,whydidyoucometoGulfCon?”Jimasked.“Givenwhathappened,thegatheringwasevenmoreimportant.Plus,atfirst
thereseemednoneedforurgency.Incaseofgeneralcontamination,thefacilitywasequippedwithafail-safemechanism.Athermobaricbombthatincineratedeverythinginthebunker.”“That’stheaccidentthey’vebeentalkingaboutonthenews,”Jimsaid.“Correct. The bomb was powerful enough to vaporize all organic and
semiorganicmatter.But not quite powerful enough, in theory, to penetrate thefacility’ssix-foot-thickouterwall.Intheeventofcontainmentloss,itcouldturn
theplaceintoacrematory.”“Andyet...hereweare,hidingfromzombies,”Raynasaid.“Indeed,”Sandovalsaid.“ApproximatelytwodozenpeoplefromtheJohnson
Spaceflight Center were slated to attend this convention. One of them, orperhapsmore,wasinfectedandcarriedthealienplaguetoHouston.Isuspectitwas Colonel Oliver Cronin, the base security chief, but that hasn’t beenconfirmed.”“Whatwashiscostume?”Garyasked.Sandoval seemed amused by the digression. “He came as Bele, from the
originalseriesepisode,’LetThatBeYourLastBattlefield.’HewasabigfanoftheoldBatmanTVseries.”“Bele,theStarTrekcharacter,wasabigBatmanfan?”Jimaskedimpatiently.“No,ColonelOliverCronin,thebasesecuritychief,wasabigfanoftheold
Batmanseries.TheactorwhoplayedtheRiddleronthatshowwas...”“Oh!Iknow!FrankGorshin!”Garyexclaimed.“Exactly.FrankGorshinplayedtheRiddler,buthealsoplayedBele.Itwasa
fairlyeasycostumeforourcolonel toput together.Allhehad todowaspainthalfhisfaceblackandtheotherhalfwhiteandacquireasilverjumpsuit.”“I remember this episode,”Rayna said. “Itwas about two guys fighting an
interplanetaryracewar.Onegroupintheirsocietyhadblackontherightsideoftheir faces andwhite on theother, and theother grouphad the exact oppositearrangement.”“Reallyadumbpaint-by-numberspremise,”Garymused.“Itborderedonself-
parody.”“AndyetGorshinreceivedanEmmynominationforhisrole,”Willypointed
out.“Whichwasstupid,”Garyshotback.“Theygive theguywhowasblackon
therightsideanEmmynod,whiletheguywhowasblackontheleftside,whodidexactlythesameamountofwork...”“LouAntonio,”Willysaid.“Yeah, black-on-the-left-side Lou didn’t get squat,” Gary continued,
indignant.Sandoval tried to follow the banter, his head cocked to the side like a dog
that’sheardastrangesound.“I’mafraidwe’vetumbleddowntherabbithole,”hesaid.Jimtookadeepbreathandletitoutslowly.HecontemplatedtellingGaryand
Willy to shut up, but thendecidednot to.Better they focusonLouAntonio’srésuméinsteadofdeliberatingtoomuchaboutthehorrorssurroundingthem.“I’mprettysureColonelCroninmadeit toGulfCon,”Jimsaid.“Earlier this
afternoon,mysecuritychiefreceivedcomplaintsaboutadrunkmime.Theguywasstaggeringaroundandbangingondoors.Thepolicetookhimaway,whichmeansheprobablyinfectedanentireprecinctsingle-handedly.”“An otherwise-healthy specimen feels symptoms three to four hours after
infection,”Sandovalsaid.“Physicaldeclineprogressesrapidlyafterthat.Deathoccurswithin twelve hours, and reanimation shortly thereafter. If the infectedsubject is killed in the initial attack, reanimation can take place almostimmediately.”“Why?”Raynaasked.“It’seasier to steal thehouse ifnoone’shome todefend it,”Sandoval said.
“The parasites alsoworkmore quickly in the presence of anEM source. The‘food’maturesthemfaster.”Jimsighed.Noneofthiswashelping.“There’salotyouguysdon’tknow,”Raynasaid.“Haven’tyouhadyearsto
studythesethings?’“I’ll answer your question with a question,” Sandoval said. “What initially
attractedyoutoStarTrek?”“IthoughtPatrickStewartwashot,”Raynasaid.“Fairenough.Youknowwhat Ialways liked?The inevitablemomentwhen
somehorriblecrisisthreatenedtodestroytheship,andthereseemednowayout.And then, suddenly, at the last possible second, Scotty or Geordi LaForge orB’ElannaTorresorChiefO’Brienwouldget a faraway look in their eyes andspoutsomelong,longlineoftechno-babbleaboutventingtheplasmafromthewarpnacellesor—”“—recalibratingthedilithiumcrystals,”Willyoffered.“—ejectingthewarpcore,”addedGary,oncemorefullyengaged.“Exactly,” Sandoval continued. “And they would make these changes
instantly,bypressingafewbuttons,anditalwaysworked.Ilovedthat.Ilovedthe idea thatnomatterhowgrave the situation, a technological solutioncouldalways bail you out. Even McCoy got in on the act. They’d need a poisonantidoteoravaccineforanewdisease,andhe’dhaveitbeforethecreditsrolled,withtimeleftovertobanterwithSpock.ButnowthatI’mactuallyascientist,doyouknowwhatI’velearnedabouttheStarTrekapproach?”“What?”Jimasked.“ItonlyworksonStarTrek.Inthisspace-timecontinuum,youcanfocusalot
ofcomputersanda lotofgreatmindsonaproblem,andstillnot findaquickanswer.Itcantakeayear.Ortenyears.Youhavetokeephammeringawayuntilthenutcracks.”“Idon’tthinkwehavethatmuchtime,”Leiasaid.
“Precisely. Given the stakes, a more rough-and-ready approach is in order.Whichiswhywehavetogetoutofhere.”“Whatdoyoumean?”Jimasked.“Right now a group of very powerful people is fighting to stop this plague
from spreading. And they aren’t approaching the problem like Federationscientists.They’remorelikeKlingons.They’llemployastrategyofcontainmentand annihilation. Houston is lost. They’ll cordon off the area and liquidateeveryone,survivorsandinfectedalike.”“That’sprettyhardcore,”Garysaid.“Thedanger is toogreat to dootherwise. If this contagion spreads, it could
overwhelm theworld.The governmentwill seal off the city and then perhapsprovideashortgraceperiodtoallowun-infectedhumanstoescape.Andthen...”“Ah,shit,”Jimsaid.“They’regoingtonukeus.”“I’mguessingthey’lluseafusionbomb.Turntheentireareaintoasheetof
glass.It’stheonlywaytobesure.”Theroomgrewquiet.AlltalkaboutLouAntonioabruptlyceased.“Ithoughtthealiensfedonradiation,”Raynasaid.“Only the low-frequency types,” Sandoval said. “The highly energetic stuff
putoutbyatomicweapons—gammaraysandthelike—isaslethaltothemasitis tous.Especially in theircurrent,moreor lessorganic forms.TheEMpulseaccompanying the explosion might also be disastrous. Electrical current candisrupttheneurallinkwiththeirhosts.”“ThatexplainswhyourTaserswork,”Jimsaid.“Sowhatshouldwedo?”Raynaasked.“Evacuate,”Sandovalsaid.“It’souronlyhope.”“DestroyHouston to save theworld,”Gary said. “I guess the needs of the
manyreallydooutweightheneedsofthefew.”“Except we’re not talking about a few,” Jim said. “There are five or six
millionpeopleintheHoustonarea.Thisisthefourth-largestcityintheUnitedStates.”“Notforlong,”Sandovalsaid.“Whenwilltheylaunch?”Jimasked.“I’m guessing sunrise,” Sandoval said. “They’ll want daylight for damage
assessment.”“Can’tyoucontactthemandrequestextraction?”Jimasked.“I did, via a scrambled satellite uplink. It’s pretty much the only method,
given the loss of Internet and cell phone coverage. They responded bydownloading a worm into my computer that fried my hard drive. That’s the
government’swayoftellingyouthatyou’reexpendable.”“No,you’renot,”Jimsaid.“Noneofusareexpendable.Especiallyascientist
who understands these creatures.We need to get out of here.We need somevehicles.”“Don’tlookatme,”Leiasaid.“Itookacab.”Jimwenttothewindowsandpeereddowntothestreet.Hehadapickuptruck
down in the Botany Bay’s garage, but there weren’t enough seats to holdeveryone.“Whatwe need isMatt’sRV. It’s in the garage.Easy to access, and there’s
roomforallofus.”“You’re forgetting thatMatthas thekeys,”Garysaid.“Maybewecan track
himdownandaskifhe’llgiveusaride.Hell,I’llevenpumpthegasagain.”RaynasmiledatGary.“Andyou’re forgetting that I’m thehelmsmanof the
USSStockard.”Sheproducedakeyringfromherpocketand tossed it toJim.“AndinthatofficialcapacityIamchargedwithcarryingasecondsetofkeys.”“Great,” Jim said. “We have our ride.Now allwe have to do is get to the
garagewithoutthezombiesrippingustopieces.”“Staypositive,”Raynasaid.“Thingscouldalwaysbeworse.”Justthenthelightswentout.“Youweresaying?”Jimsaid.
Chapter27TheMeasureofaManThegroupstoodsilentlyindarkness,breathlesslywillingthelightstoflicker
backtolife.Finally,Sandovalspoketheuglybutobvioustruth.“We’re at an even bigger disadvantage now,” he said. “The reanimates see
extremelywellinlow-lightconditions.Wedon’t.”“Whatarewegoingtodo?”Willysaid.“Thehallwayswillbepitchblack.We
won’tseethezombiesuntilthey’reontopofus.”“Thehotel’semergencylightskickonifthepowerfails,”Jimsaid.“Pluswe
haveacoupleofflashlightsandourTasershaveLEDs.”“Ifweswitchthoseon,wemightaswellyell,’Hereweare,comeandeatus,’”
Garysaid.“Itwilldrawthemlikemoths.Big,stinky,flesh-eatingmoths.”“Iwishwecouldwaituntildawn,”Leiasaid.“Itmightdrivethosethingsback
intothecracksandcrevices.”JimlookedatSandoval.Heshookhishead.“Thisareawilllikelybeashesbythen,”hesaid.“Thenwehavetoplaythehandwe’vebeendealt,”Jimsaid.Helookedathiswatch.“It’sfourthirty,”hesaid.“Let’sbereadytomovebyfive.Anyquestions?”“Well...yeah,”Willysaid.“Howdowegettothebasement?”“Whatshouldwetake?”Raynaasked.“WhogetsTasersandwhogetsswords?”Garyasked.Jimsurveyed theirworriedfaces.He’dbeen in thiskindofsituationbefore.
He knewwhen people needed advice and leadership and amorale boost. Buttheywerelookingatthewrongguy.“Hey,I’mjustthebellhop,”hesaid.“Iknowthehotel,andIcanleadtheway
to the garage.But I’mnotmaking any promises. Stop looking atme like I’msomekindofDaharmaster.”ThenhewalkedoutofthesuiteandthroughtheconnectingdoortoMartock’s
room.“Whatwasthat?”GarysaidtoRayna.“IthoughtyourbrotherwasG.I.Joe.”“I’lltalktohim,”Raynasaid.She followed Jim into Martock’s suite. She found him staring out the
windows,silhouettedbytheweakilluminationfilteringinfromtheatrium.“Whatareyoudoing?”shesaid.
Jimwasstaringdownattheatrium’sfloor.Hecouldjustmakeoutthechairhe’dfallenasleepinalifetimeago.Hisnewspapersatneatlybesideit.Hemusedthatmaybe thiswas all just a bad dream.Maybe thiswas one of those awfulhorrormovieswheretheheroisshakenawakeinthefinalframes,onlytolearnthattheprecedingninetyminuteshavejustbeenalong,terriblenightmare.“Nothing,”hefinallyanswered.“Justcheckingtheemergencylights.They’re
notverybright,butweshouldhaveenoughtoseeby.”“Well,ifyouweretryingtodemotivateeveryonebackthere,youdidapretty
goodjob.Youmadesittingaroundandwaitingtodiesoundappealing.”“Maybeitis.”“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”Raynasaid.“We won’t reach the basement without casualties,” he said. “Some of us,
maybeallofus,willdie.”“Whyareyoubeingsuchapessimist?”Raynaasked.“Wegodownstairs,we
getintheRV,andweleave.Missionaccomplished.”“You left something out. The part where we have to outrun and outfight
howevermanyofthoseflesh-eatingassholesgetinourway.Ifthere’stoomanyofthem,thenthatRVmightaswellbeparkedonCetiAlphaV.”“Sowhatshouldwedo?”“Maybenothing.Maybeweshouldgettheboozeoutoftheminibarsandhave
aparty.Getbombedbeforewegetbombed.Atleastitwouldbepainless.”“That’sinsane,”Raynasaid.“Then you’ll really hatemy other idea.We get everybody else drunk, then
you,meandLeiamakearunforthegarage.Ourchancesarebetterwithouttheothers.”“That’s not true,” Rayna said. “Remember how Gary figured out how to
contact youwhen youwere trapped? Or howWilly drew off the zombies bysendingdowntheelevator?Withoutthemyouprobablywouldn’tbehere.”“I’m grateful,” Jim said. “But they’re not strong enough for what’s ahead.
They’llslowusdown.Maybegetuskilled.”“There’sallkindsofstrength,Jim,”Raynasaid.“Yeah,yeah,yeah.Infinitediversityininfinitecombinations.”“Yourememberthat?”“Ofcourse. I also remember something I learned in the army—embrace the
suck.Itmeans,don’twhineaboutthehandyou’vebeendealt.Justdealwithit.Rightnow.”“There’sapartofyouthat’slovingthis,”Raynasaid,hervoicerising.“You’re
finallybackinyourelement.”Jimshothissisteralethallook.
“There’snopartofmethat’slovingthis,”hesaid.“BecauseitlookstomeasiftheonlychoiceI’vegotisbetweenseeingmysisterfriedinanuclearblastortornapartbyzombies.”“There’sgottobeanotherway,”Raynasaid.“Therealwaysis.”“TheremightbeifthiswereaStarTrekepisode,butit’snot.Thisisazombie
movie.Therulesaredifferent.”“Enlightenme,”Raynasaid.“Star Trek is all about applying the Federation’s high-minded ideals to
difficultsituations,”Jimsaid.“Nomatterhowbadthingsget,you’resupposedtoplaybythedon’t-shoot-first,don’t-mess-with-pre-warpcultures,don’t-alter-the-timelinerules.Butinthezombieuniverse,it’sallaboutjettisoningeverything—morality, sentimentality,weaklings—thatmightkeepyou from seeing thenextsunrise.Becausenomatterhowimpeccablyyoubehave,you’llneverbringtheothersidearoundtoyourwayofthinking.Theydon’tthink.Theyjustkill.”“Youcan’tpushasideeverythingthatmakesyouhumanjustbecausethere’sa
crisis,”Raynasaid.“Iftheonlywaytobeatthezombiesistoemulatethem,wedon’tdeservetowin.”“Whosayswecanwin?Didyouseewhat’shappeningoutside?What if the
restoftheworldisjustlikethis?”“Whatifitisn’t?Thepointis,wedon’tknow.Therestoftheplanetcouldbe
justfine.Theonlywaytofindoutistoseeforourselves.Andthatwon’thappenuntilyougetoffyourmorbid,self-pityingassandtakecharge.”“Thenitisn’tgoingtohappen.”“Well,I’mleaving.Youronlychoiceiswhetherornotyouwanttohelpme.”Jimstudiedhissister’sface.“You’ddoit,wouldn’tyou?”hesaid.“Tryme.”JimlookedatRaynaamomentlonger.Longenoughtodecidehebelievedher.“All right then,”hesaid.“We’llgo together. Iguessnoneofmygloomand
doommadeanimpression.”“Nope,”Raynasaid.“I’maTrekkie.Wedon’tdodespair.”Jimtookhissisterinhisarmsandhuggedher.“Becareful,”shesaid.“Don’tsmearmymakeup.”“You’rekidding,right?Atthispointwhogivesacrap?”“Ido,”Raynasaid.
“It took a long time to apply. And until Monday morning, when GulfCon isofficiallyover,I’manAndorian.”“GulfConlooksprettydamn‘over’tome.”“Noitisn’t,”Raynareplied,eyeingherbrothersteadily.“Notforme.”Jim stood in the dark for amoment, watching as his sister retreated to the
cornersuite.Hesuddenlyunderstoodthatherbluemakeupwasmorethanathinlayerofpigment. Itwasa force fieldholding thehorrorsaroundheratbay.Awarpbubbleofdenialthatkeptherfunctioningwhilesomanyothers—himselfincluded—stumbled.If she could do it, perhaps the others could, too.Maybe an appeal to their
Trekkie-ness was just what they needed to meld them into somethingapproaching a fighting force. Or at least a cohesive unit with a chance ofescapingtheBotanyBayHotelandSlaughterhousealive.Heneededawaytofocustheirminds.Jimwalkedover to the racksofnewcostumes and startedopeninggarment
bags.Hetookouthisphaser,pulleditstrigger,andexaminedtheclothingbyitswarmredlight.Afteropeningthesixthoneandseeingnothingofuse,hestartedtofeelfoolish.Then,intheseventh,hefoundwhathewanted.Exactlywhathewanted.Hetookoffhishoteluniform,tosseditonthefloor,andstartedchanging.He
wasalmostdonewhenLeiaenteredtheroom.“Whatareyoudoing?”sheasked.“Gettingintocharacter.Whatareyoudoing?”“Lookingforyou.ThismightbethelasttimeIhaveyoualoneforawhile.”LeiawalkeduptoJim.He’dmanagedtoputoneverythingexcepthisshirt.“There’ssomethingI’vebeenwondering,”shesaid.“Howdoyoufeelabout
cross-genrerelationships?”It tookJimamoment to realizewhat shewasasking.Thenhesmiled.“I’m
goingtobehonestwithyou,”hesaid.“Ihearit’sprettydifficulttomakethemwork.You’llwanttonamethedogWicket,butI’mgoingtocallhimWorf.Howwouldyouexpecttofindmiddleground?”“Maybelikethis,”shesaid,leaningforwardandkissinghim.Jimpulledher
close.Thistimehewasreadytosavorit,andagain,forabriefinstant,itdidn’tfeelliketheywereinazombiemovieanymore.Theyweren’tinavideogameand theyweren’t in a Star Trek episode. They were someplace far better, farmorereal—butitlastedonlyamoment,andthenLeiabroketheembrace.“Maybeitcouldwork,”heagreed.“Butwewon’tknowforsureunlessweget
out of here. And to do that, we’ve got to get the people in the next roommotivated.”“How?”“Bygivingthemwhattheyneed:acaptain.”“Finally!”Leiaexclaimed.“That’swhyIdecidedtoditchmyhoteluniform.”“That wasn’t a uniform,” Leia said. “That was a costume. It was you
pretendingtobesomethingyouweren’t.”Jimpulledonhisshirt.Itwasagoldcaptain’stunicfromtheoriginalseries.“Better?”hesaid.Leiaranherhandsoverhistorso.“It’saperfectfit,”shesaid.Jimglancedoveratthedoortothecornersuite.“Timetosavethegalaxy,”hesaid.“Youwon’thavetodoitallbyyourself,”
Leiasaid.“Yousaveus,andmaybewe’llsaveyourightback.”
Chapter28TheMenagerie,PartIIBythetimeJimandLeiareemergedfromMartock’sroom,itwasnearlyfive
o’clock.Therewasnotimetowaste.Thenewuniformhadthedesiredeffect.“Holyshit,captainonthebridge,”Willysaid.“Listenup,everybody,”Jimsaid.“WeneedtomoveinthirtyminutessoI’ll
bequick.OrdinarilyI’dplananoperationlikethisalongmilitarylines,butsinceyou’reallciviliansI’lluseasystemyou’remorefamiliarwith:Starfleet.”“Holdon,”Garyinterrupted.“Howcomeyougettobecaptain?Yousaidyou
didn’tevenlikeStarTrek.”“IneversaidIdidn’t like it,”Jimremindedhim.“IsaidIoutgrewit.But if
you’regoingtochallengemygeekcredentials, let’sget itoverwithrightnow.Askmeanythingyouwant.”“Anything?”Garyasked.“YoudorealizeI’vewoneveryStarTrektriviabowl
I’veeverparticipatedin,right?”“Anything,”Jimrepeated.Garymusedforamoment.“Thechallengewillconsistofthreequestions,”he
decided.“Oneeasy,onemedium,onehard.Areyouready?”“Weneedtohurry,”Jimremindedhim.“WhatmusicalinstrumentdoesRikerplay?”“Thetrombone.”“WhatwasthenameoftheshipcommandedbyPicardbeforehetookoverthe
Enterprise?”“TheStargazer.”“Final question: In what episode did Captain James T. Kirk first say the
words,’Beammeup,Scotty’?”Jimwanted to laugh. He’d seenmany a trivia bowl contestant go down in
flameswhenconfrontedwith thischallenge.“That’sa trickquestion,”hesaid.“Kirkneveractuallysaidthosewords.Everyonethinkshedid,buthedidn’t.”Garyseemedstartled,butquicklyraisedhisfingersinacrispsalute.“Youare
correct,Captain.”Jim looked around the room. “Does anyone else want to challenge my
knowledgeofthisuniverse?”Hiscrewjuststaredbackathim,awaitingorders.
“All right, then,” he said. “Let me brief you on your mission. From thismoment forward, I want you to consider yourself part of an away team on ahostileplanet.Whichisn’tmuchofastretch,consideringthecircumstances.Ourjob—our mission—is to get back to the ship and return to Federation space.Okay?”Everyonenodded.“I’m not blowing smoke about this. If things are as bad as they seem, it’s
important that we get out of here and report what’s happened. Ensuring Dr.Sandoval’ssurvivalwouldbeacoupallbyitself.Andwe’retheonlyoneswhocandoit.”“Becausewe’retheonlyshipinthequadrant,”Willysaid.“Exactly,”Jimsaid.“I’llassumecommandforthefulldurationofthisvoyage.
Leia ismyNumberOne. Ifanythinghappens tome, she’s incharge.Rayna isship’scounselor.”“Andhelmsman,”hissisteradded.“Counselor-slash-helmsman,” Jim said. “Martock is chief of security. Dr.
Sandovalisourscienceofficerandchiefmedicalofficer.”“Dammit,Jim,he’sanexobiologist,notanM.D.,”Garysaid.“He’ll do,” Jim said. “Gary, I need you to be the extra set of eyes on
everything—thatmeansyou’remyyeoman.”“Yo,man!”Garyexclaimed,andthenquicklyofferedasheepishapology.“I
nevergettiredofthatjoke.”“Whataboutme?”Willyasked.“You’reourmascot,”Jimsaid.“Ourgood-luckmascot.”“Canourmascotgobyhisrealname?”Leiasaid.“WillyMakitisbadmojo.”“Idon’twantto,”Willysaid.“No,she’sright,”Jimsaid.“Wedon’tneedtojinxourselves.Youneedtolose
thealias.”Willy’sfaceturnedasredashisshirt.“Youdon’tunderstand,”hesaid.“Myrealname’sKenny.”LeiaeyedWillyuncertainly.“What’swrongwithKenny?”Leiaasked.“Kennywhat?”“Dyes,ma’am.D-Y-E-S.”Thekidproducedhiswalletand,withtremblingfingers,extractedhisdriver’s
license. Leia leaned forward to inspect it. “Son of a gun,” she said. “KennyDyes.”“Let’stosshimoutinthehallway,”Garysaid.“I’mnotgoinganywherewith
awalking,talkingphasertarget.”“Belaythatshit,”Jimsaidsharply.“We’reallgoingonthismission.Noone
getsleftbehind.Willyisgoingtomakeit.Nowbeforeweleave,Ineedsomeonetopackuptheminibars.Grabthecandyandthenuts.Anythinghigh-calorieandlow-volume.Wedon’tneedtobeweigheddown.”HelookedoveratMartock,whohadn’t said aword since they arrived inSandoval’s suite. “Canyou helpwiththat?”“Sorry,”Martockreplied,shakinghishead.“ButI’mnotcoming.”Hestoodup,walkedovertothewindows,andstaredoutatthecity.“Toobad,”Garysaid.“Wecouldusethatdude.”“No,wecan’t,”Jimsaid.“WeneedtheKlingonthat’sinsidehim.”JimwalkedovertowhereMartockstood,listlesslylookingatthedeadcity.“Sowhat’syourplan?”heasked.“Waitforthebomb?”“Soundsgoodtome,”Martocksaid,notbotheringtolookathim.“Ican’tletyoudothat.”“Really?Tryandstopme.”Jimtookastepbackandsethisfeetfirmlyontheground.“Yourdishonormakesyouweak,”hesaid.TherewasaflashofrealangerintheKlingon’seyes.“Look,Jim,Idon’tknowifyou’vegottenthememoyet,butwe’rescrewed.If
youwanttogooutthereanddie,goahead.I’llstaybehindanddoitinhere.”JimraisedhisrighthandandslappedMartock’sface.“Shutup,”hesaid.“Idon’tneed tohearyourprattling. Iknowthat theguy
whoownsamachineshopbackinAtlantaishavingahardtimehandlingthis.Iknowhelosthisfriend.ButIalsothinkthat,somewheredeepinside,Martockisstillinthere.Andhewantsvengeance.”TheKlingonrubbedhischeekwithaleather-swathedhand.HelookedatJim
asifhewereaparticularlyannoyinginsect.“I’mdonewiththisshit,”hesaid.“No, you’re not!” Jim shoutedback. “You’re an expertweaponsmaker and
secondincommandofthebirdofpreyPlank’Nar.Becausethat’swhatweneedyoutoberightnow.Doyouunderstand?IneedaKlingonwhodoesn’tgiveadamnwhetherhe livesordies,as longashekillsplentyofzombiessohecanbragaboutittoKareninSto’Vo’Kor.That’swhatshe’dwant,isn’tit?Foryoutofightinsteadofquit?”JimstaredatMartock.Comeon,yougiganticsonofabitch,buyintothis,hethought.Ineedyouto
getinthegame.Martock stared back. Then, to Jim’s immense relief, hismouth split into a
pointy-toothedgrin.“Youspeakwisdom,human,”hesaid.“BettertodieaKlingonthanliveasa
coward.”“Exactly,” Jim said. “Now arm these poor civilians and get them ready for
battle.”“Mypleasure,”Martocksaid.“Itwillbeglorious.”HepattedJimontheshoulder.“Andifyouslapmeagain,I’llkillyouwhereyoustand.”Jimgrinned.“Iwouldexpectnothingless.”At fiveminutes to four, the teamwasaswell-armedandwell-preparedas it
would ever be. Jim carried his trusty kar’takin and the Glock. He passed hisTaserbeltholster toLeia,whopacked twoextraTaserdart setsaswell asherlirpa.RaynacarriedtheMaceclippedtoherbelt,plusaTaser.GaryandWillygotyans.Martockwieldedhispersonalbat’leth.SandovalgotaTaser.Timetogotoredalert,Jimthought.He looked through thedoor’speepholeat thehallway.Fromthere,hecould
see the entry to thewest fire stairwell, just a few yards away. Therewere nozombiestoimpedetheirprogress.Itwouldbeaquickthirty-secondjump.“Listenup,”Jimsaid.“We’reheadingoutinthreeminutes.OnceIopenthis
door,Idon’twantanytalking.Ifyouneedtosaysomething,whisper.Iknowwehaveweapons, but the zombies have numbers.We’re not looking for a battle.Understand?”His crewmembers nodded. Jim looked at their faces. There were so many
otherthingshewantedthemtoknow.Buttherewasn’ttime.“We’llgointhisorder:myselfandLeia,followedbyRaynaandGary.Then
Martock,Sandoval, andWilly.Don’tget separated.Staywithyourapocalypsebuddiesatalltimes.Gotit?”Everyonenoddedagain.Jimcouldfeelthetensionrising.“Keepmoving.Don’tgivethemtimetoganguponyou.Anyquestions?”“WhataboutMatt?”Garysaid.“Whatifwerunintohim?”JimpattedhisGlock.“Ihopewedo,”hesaid.“ButIdoubtwe’llbe that lucky.I’mguessinghe’s
beingprocessedinsideazombie’sGItractaboutnow.”Sandovallookedathiswatch.“We really should be going,” he said. “Afterwe reach our vehicle,we still
havetodrivefarenoughtoreachminimumsafedistancebeforetheblast.”“Youheardtheman,”Jimsaid.“Preparefortransport.”
Chapter29TheAdversaryMattsatinasecond-floorsuite,calmlyobservingthezombiesmillingaround
justbeneathhiswindow.Theyslowlypaced theatrium,spacedprecisely threeyardsapart.Evenas they lurched inseeminglyrandomdirections, theyalwaysmaintained the same spacing. Itwas theperfectway,Matt realized, toblanketthe entire area, to make sure no living thing passed undetected among them.Theymovedwith thesamemathematicalprecisiondisplayedbyflockingbirdsandschoolingfish.Thenetworkwasgloriouslysophisticatedinitsdesign.He leanedagainst thewindowframewithhis lefthand.His righthand—his
newrighthand—restedonhiship.Ithadbeenagiftfromhisnewbenefactors.Mattdidn’tusethewordinfection
todescribewhathappened.Thattermwastoobaseforsuchamiracle.Unionseemedmoreappropriate.Hewelcomed the visitors aboard, and in return theymadehim strong.And
smarter.Andtheygavehimanewhand.Or,rather,somethingbetter.Matt2.0,hethoughtasheraisedhisarmtoadmireitsnewshape.Attheendofhiswristsproutedawildconfusionoftentacles.Atfirstthey’d
seemedtohavemindsoftheirown,writhingaroundwithoutanyinputfromhim.Buthesoonassertedhismastery.Theycouldpick thingsup.Theycouldwrapthemselves into a rock-hard knot for fighting. They could whip out as far asthreefeetinanydirection.HereceivedthisboonshortlyafterescapingfromJimandhisowntreasonous
crew.He’dretreatedtothesecondfloorandbrokenintoasuitesituateddirectlybeneathhisoldone.Heevictedacoupleofzombies toobtain it, tossing themintothehallwaybeforeslammingthedoorintheirblood-cakedfaces.Once insidehe’d inspected thestump.Therewasnopainandprecious little
bleeding.Thiswaspuzzling,becauseitwasaveryseriousinjury.TheoldMatt—the person he’d been just a few hours ago—would have fainted from thetrauma.Maybeevendiedofbloodloss.But the new Matt didn’t. Instead, he matter-of-factly located the room’s
microwaveoven.Heusedhis remaininghand topunchout the radiation-proofwindowonitsdoor.Thenheplacedseveralglassesofwaterinsidetokeepthemachine from arcing, clicked the door shut, and set it to run for an hour onmaximum.Lastlyhepulledupachairandsatdownnomorethanafootfromthe
hummingdevice.It occurred to him that he was getting quite a bit of microwave exposure.
Probablymorethanwashealthyforahuman.Butthenherememberedthathumanfrailtiesweren’thisproblemanymore.Theovenshutofffiveminutesbeforethehotel’spowerfailed.Mattcouldn’t
say for sure, but he felt that the microwaves had done him good—or, moreaccurately—donehisnewfriendsgood.Hedidn’t realizehowmuchuntil he raisedhis right armand sawwhathad
sproutedthere.Itwashisrewardforhelpingthem.It was also a first step, he somehow knew, down a road to even bigger
changes.The prospect didn’t faze him. Emotions, human ones at least, didn’t have
muchpoweroverhimanymore.Onlythestrongeststimuli—likethethoughtofkillingJim—rousedthem.That,andwreakingvengeanceonthebitchwhotookhis original hand. Fantasizing about what he might inflict on her produced aTechnicolorgrabbagoffantasies,alloftheminbrightcrimsonhues.Suddenly,Mattfeltanurgeticklingupfromthebackofhismind.Hecouldn’t
quitegrasp itssubtleties,butheunderstood theoverallmeaning.Heneeded togo.Thecreaturessharinghismindfeltitwastimetomoveon.Therewasdangergrowingonthehorizon.Mattneededtogettoasafeplace.Andheknewjusthowtogetthere.Hisstarshipwaswaitinginthegarage.
Chapter30ApocalypseRisingThe stairwell was illuminated by emergency lights at each landing and
switchback.Themissiongotofftoaneasystart.Therewerenozombiesonthesixth-floorlandingorthefifth.“Maybewecanskaterightdowntothebasement,”Raynasaid.Amomentlater,asinglemoandriftedupthestairs.“Iorderyoutoquitsayingoptimistic things,”Jimscolded.“Every timeyou
do,somethingbadhappens.”“Acknowledged,”Raynasaid.Jim descended the stairs until the fourth-floor landing came into view, then
stopped.Hefoundasingleghoulpacingbackandforth.“I’lltakecareofthis,”hewhispered.“No,”Garysaid.“Letmedoit.Ineedthepractice.”Jimthoughtabouttherequest.Hehadapoint.“Fine,”hesaid.“Martock,willyoubackhimup?”“Itwouldbemyhonor,”theKlingonsaid.“Idon’tneedanyhelp,”Garysaid.“Martock’syoursecond, like inaduel,”Jimsaid.“Hecangiveyouadvice.
Now,dothedeed.”GaryandMartockdescendedthestairs,makingnoattemptatstealth.The zombie lurched towardGary, its alien eye bulging out of its forehead.
Garyraisedhisyanandswung itashardashecouldat theflesh-eater’sneck.Thebladestruckspineandlodgedthere.Gary,panicking,triedtopullitout.Butthezombiecamewithit.“Thisbladesucks!”Garyexclaimed.“Howthehellareyousupposedtokill
withthisthing?”Martocksteppedforward,calmlytookthehiltoftheweapon,andthenkicked
thezombieinthemiddleofthechest.Thebladewrenchedfreeandthecreaturefellsprawlingtothefloor.“Usemorewrist inyourattacks,”Martocksaid,demonstratingwithaquick
gesture.“Itwillincreasethepowerofyourstrike.”HereturnedtheweapontoGaryasthezombieclamberedtoitsfeetandonce
more advanced. Its head listed to one side, the inner mechanics of its throatexposed byGary’s first blow.Gary dropped into a fighting stance and swung
again.Thistimetheyancutcleanly,sendingtheheadflyingacrosstheroom.Asmatteringofmutedapplauseissuedfromtheonlookersonthesteps.Gary
turnedtothemandbowed.“Don’t get cocky,” Leia said. “There’s plenty more where that one came
from.”Ontheverynextleveltheyfoundthreeothers.Intheinterestsofexpediency,
Jimkilled twowhileLeiabroke inher lirpa, removing the top thirdofahotelhousekeeper’sskullwithoneprecisejab.Afterthekill,shespottedGarytakingpicturesofherwithhiscellphone.“ForFacebook,”heexplained.Sandovalglancedathiswatch.Itwasalreadyaquarterafterfive.“Thisistakingtoolong,”hesaid.“Weneedtomakeupsometime.”Justthenamoanwaftedupthestairwell.Followedbyanother.Andanother.Thegroupcreptdownuntilthesecond-floorlandingcameintoview.“Shit,”Martocksaid.“Thisisdefinitelynotmyfault,”Raynasaid.“Ididn’tmakeasinglepositive
comment.”Jimstareddownward,momentarilyataloss.Itwashisnightmarecometrue.
Thelandingheldperhapsfifteenzombies,packedtogetherlikecommutersonatrain.And thedoor to the landing stoodopen—blockedbya legless, limbless,well-chewedtorso.WearingaWesleyCrushersweater.Garygroanedquietly.“Notnow,Wesley.”Jim’smindraced.Thebestapproachwouldbe tostandat thebottomof the
stairsandkillthemastheyadvanced.Butanopendoormeantanendlesssupplyofnewcomers.Whichmeantwipingouteveryzombieonthefloor.They’dfinishupjustintimetogetnuked.“Martock, Leia, and Gary, go to the bottom of the stairs and get their
attention,”Jimsaid.“Standonthelastcoupleofstepsandtakethemoutastheyapproach.”The threedescended towithin twostepsof thefloorandformeda line.The
zombiesreactedwithachorusofmoans.Jimwaiteduntiltheyshambledclearofthedoor.He looked over the rail at the next flight of stairs below. It was maybe a
twelve-foot drop.Agood landingwas critical.He couldn’t afford a twistedorbrokenankle.“Whatareyouplanning?”Raynaasked,eyeingherbrothernervously.“Somethingreallystupid.”Thenheclimbedontotherailandusedittolaunchhimselfdowntothestairs
below.By amiracle of balance, hemanaged to plant both feet cleanly on the
same step. But then he almost toppled over backward. Only severalembarrassingsecondsoftwistsandarmwavessavedhimfromdisaster.His balance recovered, Jim raced up the stairs to the landing. He used his
kar’takintotaketheheadsoftwozombiesatthebackofthecrowdpressinginonthestairs.Thenherushedtothestairwayentrance,draggedWesleyCrusherclearwith
thebladeofhisweaponandshovedthedoorshut.Thislefthalfadozenzombiesin the stairwell, but theywere easily outmatchedbyLeia,Martock, andGary.Jim shouldered his blade andwatched them finish. The last creature standingwas a tall, thin man in aNextGen uniform, vainly trying to climb over thebodiesofhiscomrades.Martock, impatient, descended to the lowest step and brought his bat’leth
down in a high arc on the last survivor’s skull. Its point struck home and thezombiewentlimp.“Kapla!”theKlingonroared,raisinghisweaponoverhishead.Hedidn’t notice that oneof the zombies in thepilewasn’t dead at all. Just
immobilizedbythemassofcorpsesheapedontopofit.AsMartockcelebrated,itpusheditselffree,grabbedhisrightleg,andsankitsteethintohisboot.“Khest’n!”Martockscreamedashefellbackward.He kicked the zombie in the face, breaking its grip. Gary brought his yan
downonthemonster’shead.Jimsawitallunfold.Herantothestairsanddraggedbodiesoutoftheway,
openingacorridor.“Didtheteethgetthrough?”heasked.Martockpulledoffhisbootandexaminedhisskin.SodidLeiaandSandoval.“It’sokay,”hesaid.“Itdidn’tmakeitthroughtheleather.”Leianoddedinagreement.Martockstartedlaughing.“Wehavetokeepmoving,”Jimsaid.“We’rerunningoutoftime.”Martockputhisbootbackonandfellintoline.Thegrouptrudgeddowntothe
first-floorlanding.Itwasempty.Thentheydescendedtothegaragelevel.Itwasdarker,grimier,andsmelledofdiesel,butitwaszombie-free.“Endoftheline,”Jimsaidasheapproachedthedoor.“Goodjob,everybody.”It was a miracle, he thought. They’d made it this far without casualties or
determinedresistance.Thingswerelookingup.Orlookingupasmuchastheyeverdidinaplacewherethedeadruled.Hecrackedopenthedoortothegarage.LeiaandRaynajoinedhim.“Whatdoyousee?”theyasked.Oh,God,Jimthought.
Heclosedthedoor.Thenhesatdownonthefloor.“What’soutthere?”Leiaasked.“Borg,”Jimsaid.“Awholebunchofgray-skinned,costume-wearingBorg.”“Howmany?”Raynaasked.“I’dsayit’stheentirecollective.”Heglancedathiswatch.Dawnwaslessthananhouraway.“Andwe’veonlygotfiveminutestofightourwaythroughallofthem.”
Chapter31TotheDeathLeia,Rayna,andtheotherstookturnspeekingoutthedoor.Theysawaseaof
zombies dressed as Borg, all listlesslywandering among the cars, trucks, andbuses.InthedistancesattheUSSStockard.“AmIcrazy,”Willyasked,“orisoneofthemcarryingatrom-bone?”“They’remusicians,”Martockreplied.“They’reontheschedule.”“Whatschedule?”“TheGulfCon schedule.They’re an all-brassmusical group calledSeventy-
SixTrom-Borgs.”“There’sseventy-sixofthem?”Jimsaid.“It’sactuallymorethanahundred,”Martocksaid.“Someoneontheirtourbus
musthavebeeninfected.Theynevermadeitoutofhere.”“Wecan’tletthemdelayus,”Sandovalsaid.“Here’showwe’llplayit,”Jimreplied.“YouguysgofortheRV.Martockand
GaryandLeia,youstickclosetoRayna.She’sgotthekeysandsheknowshowtodrivethatthing.SandovalandWilly,keepup.Getthere,getaboard,andgetout.Understand?”“Whataboutyou?”Leiaasked.“I’mgoingtodrawthemoff.”“Likehellyouare,”Raynasaid.“Thislevelhasachargingstationforhotelgolfcarts.MyfriendDexterused
them for making the rounds at night. To check parking permits on all thevehicles.”Jimexplainedthathisplanwastocommandeeragolfcartanddrivetothefarendoftheparkinggarage—whilehopefullydivertingtheBorgintheprocess.“Onceyouhaveaclearpath,gototheRV.ThenI’lldriveoverandjoinyou.”“Bullshit,”Leiasaid.“It’souronlychance.”“ThenI’mgoingwithyou,”Leiareplied.“Ineedyoutostaywithmysister.Later,ifyoustillwanttogojoyridingina
golfcart,I’llseewhatwecando.”“It’sdecided,”Sandovalsaid.“Butwehavetohurry.”JimkissedLeiaonthecheek.“Ifyougetkilled,I’llneverspeaktoyouagain,”shesaid.
“Understood,”Jimsaid.“Waituntiltheymoveoff,thengo.”He opened the door and stepped outside. The closest zombie spotted him
instantlyandmoaned,alertingtherest.Jimaddedtotheirexcitementbyjumpingupanddownandwavinghisarms.“Comeon,youcyberneticassholes!”heshouted.“I’vegotsomethingforyou
toassimilaterighthere!”Thewords echoed off the garage’s cementwalls. The zombieBorg quickly
obliged,shufflingafterhimasfastastheirnecroticlimbsallowed.Jimtrottedawaytohisleft,towardtherowsoftrucksandcars.Heplannedto
playagameoflifesizePac-Manwiththeundead.ABorgsteppedoutfrombehindaChevyTahoe.Jimsplititsheadopenwith
the kar’takin.He ran past another as he sprinted deeper into the car rows.Hepausedjustlongenoughtogougeoutitsthirdeye.“Wait!”heheardashrillvoiceyell.JimturnedtoseeWillypursuinghim.“Whatareyoudoing?”heasked.“Whyaren’tyouwiththeothers?”“Ifiguredyoucouldusesomehelp.Icallshotgunonthegolfcart.”“Thereisnogolfcart,”Jimsaid.“Imadeitallup.”Willywaspuzzled.“ThenhowareyougoingtogetbacktotheRV?”“I’mnotgoingbacktotheRV,”Jimexplained,andhehelduptheGlock.“I’m
goingtolurethemintoacornerandthenI’mgoingtousethisonmyself.”“Asuicidemission?”Willysaid,hisfacefalling.“Itfigures.”Theywereinterruptedbyloud,continuousmoaning.TheBorgwerecoming.
Theysurgedamongthecarslikeatide.“Let’snotmake thiseasy for them,”Jimsaid.“Yougo thatwayandI’llgo
thisway.”“Niceknowingyou,”Willysaid.“You,too,kid.MaybeMartockwillwriteaKlingonbattlesongaboutus.”The Borg were within twenty feet when they split up and vanished down
differentrows.Jimbobbedandweavedinandoutoftheparkinglanes,makingthechaseas
toughaspossibleforhisclumsypursuers.Hewassosuccessful,andledthemsofarastray,thathebegantowonderifmaybe,justmaybe,hecoulddoublebacktotheStockard.Then he rounded a corner and came face-to-face with more than a dozen
zombies.He tookoff the firstone’shead.Then thesecond.But therewere toomany.
Foreveryonehedestroyed,twoorthreemoreappeared.Jimfellbackamongthecars.Azombieblockedhisretreat.Hesliceditopen.
Another one took its place. Hewas trapped between a service van and a bigcontractor-stylepickup.Heclimbedintothetruck’sbedandthenjumpedontopofthecab.Forthemomenthewassafe.Safebutsurrounded.HetriedtocatchaglimpseoftheRV,butabusblockedhisview.Soon the Borg were four ranks deep around the pickup. Their sheer mass
shifteditbackandforth.Jimstruggledtokeephisfooting.Thearmsoftheclosestzombiesflailedacrosstheroof,tryingtocatchhisfeet.
Jimconsideredusingthekar’takinbutfearedthatswingingitwouldcausehimtolosehisalreadyuncertainfooting.It’sover,hethought.HerememberedtheGlockinhisbelt.Itwasalmosttimetouseit.HewonderedifWillyhadfaredanybetter.Jimtookoutthepistol.Hewasabouttocockitwhenheheardthesquealof
tires. Then he saw, to his immense relief, thatWilly had indeed fared better.Much,muchbetter.AblackHummerH2was veering toward himwith the high beamson, and
Willywasbehind thewheel,blasting thehorn.Thezombies recoiled from thepickuptruck,agitatedbytheblindinglights.JimleapedfromthetruckontothehoodoftheHummer,thenscrambledupontoitsroof.Therewasnotimetogetinside.Hesimplygrabbedontotheoverheadbars.“Wherethehelldidyoufindthisthing?”Jimshouted.“Valet parking,”Willy shouted back. “I thought about theMaserati but this
seemed—”“Justgo!”Jimyelled.“Go,go,go!”Willypulledawayinascreechoftires.TheHummerbrokethroughalineof
Borg,grindingoverthebrassinstrumentsandfallenbodieswhileleavingatrailofcrimsontiretracksinitswake.
Chapter32LetThatBeTheirFinalBattlefieldIncredibly,Jim’sdiversionworkedperfectly.AlmosteveryBorgpursuedhim.
Only a handful remained in sight when Leia, Rayna, Martock, Gary, andSandovalemergedfromthestairwell.“We’regoingtomakeit,”Garysaid.“Stayquietandbereadytomove,”Leiasaid.“Thisisn’toveryet.”ThehandfulofremainingBorgspottedthemandshambledtheirway.Martock
tookthefirstone’sheadwithasinglebat’lethstroke.Leiaflattenedthenextwithalirpajab.ABorgclutchingaFrenchhornblockedtheirpath.“Myturn,”Garysaid.He dispatched the zombie with a slashing blow to the chest that neatly
bisecteditsthirdeye.TheRVwasfiftyfeetaway.Itseemeduntouchedandundamaged.Raynapulledthekeysoutofherpocket,thendroppedthem.“Shit!”shesaid.Shedoubledbackandpickedthemup.Whenshedid,shenoticedthatmore
Borgwerefollowingthem.AndevenmorewerecomingfromthedirectionthatJimhadtaken.“They’redoublingback,”shesaidtoLeia.“Doyouthinkthatmeans—”“Get to thegoddamnRV,”Leia said. “We’ll drive around theparking lot to
pickupJim.”TheyranthefinalfewyardstothesideoftheStockard.Sandoval,Gary,and
Martocktookdefensivepositionsnearthedoor.Raynaunlockeditandstuckherheadinside.Thevehiclewasdarkandseeminglyempty.“Looksgood,”shesaid.“Ithink...”BeforeRaynacouldfinishhersentence—beforeshecoulddoanything—Matt
leaptdownfrom theRV’s roofand landed in frontofLeia.Heappeared tobecarryingagiant,redoctopus.The octopus grabbed Leia by the throat; the tentacleswrapping around her
necklikebandsofsteel.Matthoistedherofftheground,thentossedheraway.Shelandedinaheap,crackingherheadagainsttheconcretefloor.“Sorry,Princess,”hesaid,“butGulfConisaTrek-onlyevent.”
Frombehindhisback,Mattrevealedhiscustom-madebat’leth.“I found this beautifulweaponon the floor of a restroom,” he said. “Better
latethannever,huh,Martock?”RaynaraisedherTaserandfired.Mattdeflectedthedartswithhisblade.Garyusedthemomenttochargewith
his yan, but he wasn’t fast enough; Matt parried the blow—then, withsuperhumanspeed,heusedhisownweapontoslashhisopponentfromnecktohip.“No!”screamedRayna,asGarycollapsed,alookofprofoundsurpriseonhis
face.“Gameover,Horta,”Mattsaid.“I’mafraidyournamewillnotbepostedon
theleaderboard.”Rayna rushed toGary’s side,but therewasnothing tobedone.Sheputher
handoverhiseyelids,closingthem.“Warpspeed,”shewhispered.Martockcharged,hisownbat’lethreadyforaction.“Youwilltastemysteel,petaQ!”heroared.“Tastethis,”Mattsaid.His bat’leth cleaved the airwith superhuman speed.Yet somehowMartock
blockedtheblow.“Impressive!”Mattsaid.“I’vewantedtogivethisthingarealtest.”Heattackedagain.Martockblockedandcounterattacked.Mattdeftlyavoided
the strike. Hewas faster and stronger, butMartock had greater reach and farmoreexperience.Itwasn’tafairfight,butitwasafight.Asthetwoexchangedblows,RaynascrambledtoLeia’sside.“Areyouokay?”Raynaasked.Leiaflailedaround,searchingforherlirpa.“Martockneedshelp.”“You’llgetyourselfkilled,”Raynasaid.Sandovaljoinedthem.“MoreBorgareapproaching,”hesaid.“Weneedtoboardthevehiclenow.”Rayna grabbedLeia’s left arm and hoisted her to her feet.WithSandoval’s
help,shewasabletodirectLeiatotheRV.Theywereatthedoor,stillstrugglingtogetLeiatocooperate,whentheclangofclashingbat’lethsceased.They looked just in time to seeMatt decapitating the Klingonwith a final
triumphant swingofhisblade. “Hey,don’t forgetyour friend!”hecalledafterthem.He liftedMartock’sheadby itshair andwhipped it in theirdirection; itmissedthembyinchesbeforeshatteringthewindshieldofaVWJetta.“Goddamnit!”Leiashouted,hervoicecracking.“Getonboard,”Raynapleaded.“He’scoming.”“No,”Leiasaid.
ShesnatchedthecanofMaceclippedtothebeltonRayna’scostume.Mattchargedacross theparking lot.“Don’t leaveyet,guys!The triviabowl
startsrightafterbreakfast.WithGaryoutofthepicture,it’sanybody’sgame!”HegrabbedRaynabytheshoulderandspunheraround.Sheknockedoffhis
Ray-Bans and leapt aside. Leia stood up, grabbed Matt’s gold commodore’suniformbythecollar,thrusttheMacecaninfrontofhiseyes,andsprayed.Thescreamheutteredwasfairreward,shedecided,fortheleft-handedpunch
thatoncemoresmashedhertotheground.Hisscreamskeptcoming.Mattturnedincircles,rubbinghiseyes.“Youlittlefilthypatagh!”hewailed.“I’mgoingto—”Heneverfinishedthesentence.WillyboredownonhimintheH2,Jimstill
lying prone on top. The immense vehicle struckMatt at full speed, launchinghimintotheair.HisbodysmashedintothesideoftheStockard.Jim climbed off the top of the H2. He froze for the briefest fraction of a
second when he saw Gary’s and Martock’s bodies on the ground—then hepointedattheapproachingBorg.“Takecareofthem,”hetoldWilly.“I’llhandleOctopussy.”“Affirmative,”Willy said, shifting into reverse and backing up into another
crowdofshamblingundead.Meanwhile,JimpreparedtofaceMattonceandforall.Carryinghiskar’takin inhis lefthandand theGlock inhis right,hewalked
towardtheRV.RaynaandSandovalcrouchedbesideLeia.Shewashurtbutstillfightingtorise.Mattslowlystruggledtohisfeet.“Par-tay’sover,jerk-off,”Jimsaid.HeleveledtheGlockatMattandfiredthreeroundsintohischest.The impact slammed himoncemore against theRV. Jimwaited for him to
crumpletotheground.Instead,helaughed.“I’mstartingtohatethatgun,”hesaid.Mattraisedhisrightarm,revealinghisnewhandinallitsglory.Thetentacles
lashedoutandsnatchedthepistolfromJim’sgrasp.“I’verisenafewpowerlevelssincewelastmet,”heexplained.“Bulletsdon’t
workanymore.I’vedevelopedasuper-fasthealingfactorthatputsWolverinetoshame.”Jimwatchedas the tentacledhorrorat theendofMatt’sarmexploredevery
inch of the Glock. Then it quickly and expertly disassembled it. The piecesclatteredtothefloor.“You’reinfected,”Jimsaid.“You’reoneofthem.”
Mattlaughed.“Believeme,what I’vebecome is far, farmoreprofound.Comparingme to
thezombiesislikecomparingStarTrektooldblack-and-whiteFlashGordon.”Jimbroughthiskar’takinintoadefensivepositionandpreparedforaction.“Sowhatareyou?”Matt extendedhis right arm in the directionof his ownbat’leth,whichhad
beenwrenchedawaybytheH2collision.Atentacledartedout,grabbeditanddrewittohim.“Isn’titobvious?I’mareboot.Thinkofthehumanraceasalong-runningTV
franchise.It’sverysuccessful,butit’stired.Soyoureviveitbybringinginnewbloodandstartingover.”“Andyou’rethenewblood?”“No, they are.Themiracles insideme.Theywereborn longago,out in the
gulfs of space.And they’re everywhere, floating from star to star, looking forplanetsonwhich to take root.Now they’vecome toEarth.Thezombiesweretheirfirstcrudeattempttoadapttoourbiosphere.They’reafailure.Butme—us—we’retheimprovedversion.Thebestofthemcombinedwiththebestofme.”“Yousoundlikeagreatteam,”Jimsaid.“Abloodthirsty,grotesqueparasite—
andaspacealien.”“Iwouldn’texpectyoutounderstand.Youcan’timaginethevistasthathave
openedtome.MysymbioteandIaresomuchmorethaneitherofuscouldeverbealone.”“Icanseethat,”Jimsaid,eyeingMatt’stentacles.“Ifit’ssowonderful,why
didn’ttheygrowyouanewhumanhandinsteadof...that?”“Because I’m not human anymore. I’m onmyway to becoming something
better.Thefear,theapprehensionthatamundanehumanmightfeeloversuchametamorphosisisgone.Thesymbiotetookcareofthat.”“I see,” Jim said. “So they’re not just adding stuff. They’re deleting things
too.”“Iwouldn’tputitthatcrassly.Thetradeismorethanfair.”“Whateveryousay.Atleasttheydidn’tgiveyouoneofthoseGod-awfulthird
eyes.”MattgrinnedviciouslyandpointedhisnewhandatJim.Thetentaclesopened
likeaflower,revealingared-pupiledeyeattheircenter.“Lookatme,Jim.Lookatyourcommodore.Respectthechainofcommand.”Jim fought the urge tomake eye contact. “You know,” he said, “it’s really
fittingthatyoucameasacommodorethisweekend.”“Why’sthat?”“Because all the commodores who ever tried to pull rank on Captain Kirk
weretotaldouche-bags.”AngerflickeredacrossMatt’sface.ThedistractiongaveLeia,whohadrisen
toherfeet,timeenoughtoretrieveherlirpa.ShehurleditlikeaspearatMatt’shead.Heraimwastrue.ButMattsensedthedangeratthelastpossiblemoment.He
lashed outwith his right arm.The tentacles snagged theweapon inmidflight.Foramomenthestoodthere,thelimbfullyextended.Itwas theonlyopeningJimneeded.Heraised thekar’takinandslammedit
with all hismight throughMatt’s elbow, severing the alien limb, and the eyewithit.Matt fell instantly, as if whoever had been operating his game controller
droppedit.Yeah,thoughtJim,nudgingtheinertbodywithhisbladetomakesureitwasdead.You’rebetterthanthezombies.Butyoustillneededthateye,didn’tyou?A twitch of movement registered in his peripheral vision; he turned to see
Matt’sseveredtentaclesscramblingacrosstheflooroftheparkinggaragelikeanoctopusrunamok.Withafuriousroar,Jimleapttoitssideandstartedhacking.“That’sforGary,”heshoutedwiththedownswing,“andthat’sforMartock,andthat’sforT’Poc,youmurderouspieceofdisgustingalienshit!”He was still slicing the appendages into tiny, wriggling pieces whenWilly
pulledupintheH2.Thehoodwasstrewnwithzombiegutsandthereappearedtobeatrombonestuckinitsgrill.“Nicework,”Jimtoldhim.“NowgetintheRV.We’vegottomove.”“I’mstayingwiththetruck,”Willysaid.“Fine.Youleadtheway.”Jim hopped aboard the RV. Rayna was already up front with Leia and
Sandoval. She stepped on the gas and the vehicle lurched forward.Willywasjust ahead of them, mowing down the remaining Borg and clearing a routethroughthegarage.Hecrashed throughtheattendantgateandthenpushedtheacceleratortothefloor,rocketingupthedrivewayrampthatledtothestreet.Ifanyzombieswereloiteringaboutonthesidewalk,heintendedtoplowstraightthroughthem.Willy emerged from the garage to find the street littered with abandoned
vehicles.Heslammedon thebrakesandspunthewheelsharply,but thespeedwas too much for the top-heavy vehicle. The Hummer toppled over, itsmomentumcarryingittothefarsideoftheroadinashowerofsparks.Straightintothesideofapropanetruck.Theresultingexplosionimmolatedeveryzombiewithinahundredfeet.Rayna
shieldedhereyesfromtheblindinglightandthrewtheRVintoreverse,backing
awayfromtheblast.“You’vegottobekiddingme,”Jimgasped.“Hedidn’tdeserveit,”Raynasaidangrily.“Itisn’tfair.”“Fairandfatearetwoverydifferentthings,”Leiasaid.Willy’s funeral pyre illuminated theStockard as it changedcourseand sped
away in the opposite direction. Once clear of the BotanyBay, the RV’s crewfound the streets of downtown Houston empty. Many of the skyscrapers hadgonedark,alongwithmostofthestreetlamps.AtSandoval’sdirection,theyavoidedmainhighways,fearingthatthelargest
oneswouldbebarricaded.Insteadtheydroveonsidestreets,speedingpaststopsigns, racing beneath meaningless traffic signals, and pummeling over theoccasionalzombiethatwanderedoffthesidewalks.The one thing they did not see were survivors. No humans heard the RV
approaching. No humans fled from their hiding places to beg for a ride. Nohumansappearedtobeleft.Itwasn’tuntil theywereoutside the loopformedbyInterstate610that they
daredtogetbackonthehighway.Astheyheadedwest,awayfromthecity,thebuildingsbegantoshrinkandeventuallydisappearedaltogether.Soontheywereonadesertedfour-lanerlinedwithdustyfieldsandbarbed-wirefences.Forfortyminutes, theyspedinsilenceacrossthevacantfringesofHouston,
Texas—and then, just as the first tendrils of sunlight flared on the easternhorizon,theycaughtsightofthehighwaymilemarkerthey’dbeenwaitingfor.“Wemadeit,”Sandovalsaid.“We’reclear.LettheAirForcebombthecityall
theywant—we’reoutsideanyreasonableblastradius.”“It’sover,”JimsaidtoLeia.Hetriedtotakeherintohisarms,butshepushedhimaway.“It’s never over,” she said. “Don’t you remember Aliens? Or Terminator?
Whenever the main characters relax and the audience thinks it’s time for theclosingcredits,somethingelsehappens.Youshouldknowthat.”“Areyouserious?”Jimasked.Leiafrowned,gotup,andwalkedtotheRV’sbathroom.Shewentinsideand
shutthedoor.“Leaveheralone,”Raynasaid.“We’vebeenthroughalot.She’sbeenreally
strongsofar,butmaybeit’scatchingupwithher.”Maybe, Jim thought.Or maybe now that the crisis has passed, she doesn’t
wantmearoundanymore.Leiareturnedfromthebathroom,walkedbacktothefrontoftheRV,andsat
down.“Youokay?”Raynaasked.
“No,”Leiasaid.Shecrossedherarmsandstaredoutthewindshield.“Youwanttotalk?”Jimsaid.“That’sprettymuchthelastthingIwanttodo.I’mpissedashellrightnow,
andIdon’tmakegreatconversationwhenI’mmad.”“Thenjustsitthere,”Jimsaid.“Sortitoutwhilewedrive.Maybeyou’llfeel
betterbythetimewereachcivilization.”AsingletearescapedLeia’srighteye.“Ican’tgotocivilization,”shesaid.“Whatthehellareyoutalkingabout?”Hestartedtoreachforher.“Getback!”Leiascreamed.“Don’ttouchme.Juststaythehellaway.”“Why?”“BecauseMattgrabbedmebythethroatwiththosetentaclesofhis.”“Sowhat?”“So thedamn thingshadsuckers.And thesuckershadhookson them.And
theycutme.”Shepulledbackthecollarofhercostumetorevealarowofcircularwounds
onherneck.Theywerebarelymorethanscratches.Buttheywerestillbleeding.“No,”Jimsaid.“Yes,”Leiaanswered.“Thatsonofabitchkilledmeafterall.”
Chapter33BloodFeverBy the time the sun cleared the horizon, the Stockard was deep intoWest
Texas,headinginthegeneraldirectionofSanAntonio.Raynawasstillbehindthewheel,withJimstandingnexttoher.Leiarodeshotgun.Asthemilesrolledbyshegrewquieterandmoredespondent.SandovalsatatthetableintheRV’skitchenarea,pickingatanapple.Raynaglancedoverathercellphone,whichsatonthedash.Shepickeditup
and tried it, as she’ddoneapproximatelyevery fiveminutes since theystarteddriving.“I’vegotasignal!”shesaid.“Callanyone,anywhere,”Jimsaid.Rayna dialed her college roommate and tried to explain in the context of a
three-minutephonecall that she’d just surviveda zombie apocalypse. JudgingfromRayna’sspeechpatterns,Jimcouldtellthattheroommatedidn’tbelieveawordofit.“Restofthecountry’sfine,”Raynasaidafterhangingup.“They’reevacuating
all of southeast Texas and the whole world is glued to CNN, but right noweveryone’s calling it amassive industrial accident. They’ve put up roadblocksacrosshalfthestate.WeshouldhitonebeforeColumbus.”Leiawincedwith pain. Jim touched her shoulder. If therewere roadblocks,
there would be police officers. National Guard. They would be looking forinfectedcivilians.ThebloodonLeia’sneckwouldbeadeadgiveaway.“Maybewe should park somewhere for a fewminutes,” Leia said. “Riding
aroundinthisthingisstartingtogetonmynerves.”“I’lllookforsomeplacequiet,”Raynasaid.“Icanfeelithappening,”LeiatoldJim.“Keepfighting,”Sandovalsaid.“Determinedresistance inhibits theprogress
oftheinvaders.Unconsciousspecimensthatcan’tfightbackusuallysuccumbintwo or three hours. Conscious specimens can lastmuch longer. The record, Ibelieve,isfifteenhours,twenty-sixminutes.”“Shutup,”Leiasaid.“Justofferingmyprofessionalopinion.”“Ineedsomealonetime,”Leiasaid.“Thisthinghasabedroom,”Raynasaid.
“Perfect.”LeiaroseandstartedtowardthebackoftheRV.Thenshestoppedandturned.“Youcoming?”shesaidtoJim.“Ithoughtyouwanted...”“Alonetime.Withyou.Nowcomeon.”JimandLeiawalkedintoMatt’sbedroomandshutthedoor.“OhmyGod,” Leia said as she surveyed her surroundings. “The dork side
wasstronginthisone.”Thedecor in theRV’s public areaswas fairly ordinary.But in the bedroom
Matt hadgiven full reign tohis fanboy fetish.Ablanket emblazonedwith theUnitedFederationofPlanets crest covered the bed.Thepillowswere adornedwith threadbareStarTrekpillowcases.Aboveeverythinghunga richly framedoil portrait of Lieutenant Uhura, Nurse Christine Chapel, and Yeoman JaniceRand—allloungingonafour-postbedandcompletelynude.“EBaysureisgoingtomissthatguy,”Jimsaid.“AHughHefnerforthetwenty-fourthcentury,”Leiasaid,gesturingtoafull
bar stocked with bottles of Maker’s Mark and Bacardi 151. She opened ahumidoronthefarendandshowedJimthatitwasfullofcigars.“IfIfeltlikecelebrating,wecouldhaveonehellofaparty.”Instead,shesatdownonthecornerof thebed, lookedupatJim,andpatted
thespotbesideher.“Howareyoufeeling?”heaskedashesatdown.“LikeIcouldfallasleep.ButIwon’tbecauseIknowthat’swhattheywant.It
wouldmakethingseasierforthem.”“IwishtherewassomethingIcoulddo,”Jimsaid.“You’redoingitnow.Talktome.”“Weshouldhavemetsooner.”“Yes. But not that much sooner. I had way too many issues back in high
school.Allthatcrapwithmyparents.Youwouldn’thavebeenimpressed.”“Youshouldhave seenme,” Jim said. “Onehundred sixtypounds, a raging
caseofacne,goldchains,baggyjeans,wavingmyhandsandcallingeverybody‘dawg’...”“Ahip-hophillbilly,”Leiasaid.“Andanangrysci-finerd,”hesaid.“Wewouldhavemadeonehellofaprom
picture.”Heputhisarmaroundherwaist.“Thanksforstickingwithme,”Leiawhispered.“OfcourseI’mstickingwithyou,”Jimsaid.“We’regoingtogetyoubetter.
We’vegotHarvard’sleadingexobiologistonboard,andI’mmuch,muchsmarter
thanIlook.”“AlwaysthinkinglikeaTrekkie,”Leiasaid.“Ofcourse.”“ButyouknowI’mgoingtodie.”Jimwincedatherlanguage.“I’mserious,Jim.Icanfeeltheminsideme,andIcan’tholdthembackmuch
longer.WhenRaynafindsaplacetopullover...”“No—”“I’llgetofftheshipandIwon’tgetbackon.Doyouunderstand?”“Absolutelynot.Iwon’tleaveyoustandingonthesideofahighway.”“That’sright,”Leiasaid.“Whenyouleaveme,Idon’twanttobestandingat
all.”Hegraspedhermeaninginstantly.“Ican’tdothat,”Jimsaid.“Youhaveto.Idon’twanttobeoneofthosethings,Jim.I’mreallysorryyou
havetodoit,butyou’rethecaptain.Youdon’thaveachoice.”“I’vegottosaveyou,”hesaid.“Youalreadyhave. If it hadn’t been foryou, I’d still be in that hotel room,
waitingtodie.Orprobablydeadalready.Yousparedmethat.Yougavemeafewhoursofhope.I’mnotcomplaining.”Jimtookherinhisarmsandtriedtokissher.Sheturnedaway.“Don’t,”shesaid.“It’snotworththeriskofinfection.”Jimwasabout todisagree.About to say thatkissingherwouldbe themost
worthwhile thing he could ever imagine.But just then he felt theRVmake aleisurely turn, then slow to a halt. The engine shut off. Amoment later theyheardthedooropenandRaynaandSandovaldisembark.“Thisismystop,”Leiasaid.Suddenlyalookofsurpriseandexcruciatingpainflashedacrossherface.“What’swrong?”Jimasked.“No...,”Leiagroaned,pressingbothhandstothesidesofherhead.“Tellme—”“The aliens.For just aminute I could . . . I couldhear them.Not theones
insidemebut...others.”“Whatareyoutalkingabout?We’remilesfromHouston.”Shegrimacedinagony.“We’remilesfromHoustonbutthe...thenetwork..
.it’sfollowedus.”“That’s not possible,” Jim said. “This highway’s been empty for miles.
There’snoonefollowingus.AndMatt’sdead.”“Mattwasn’ttheonlyone,”Leiasaid,hereyesgrowingwide.“Thereis. . .
another.”
Chapter34TheBestofBothWorldsAfewminuteslater,JimemergedfromtheRV.Hecarriedtheheavyflashlight
fromLeia’sdiscardedgunbeltinhisrighthand.His sister had pulled into a seemingly empty rest stop. The Stockard was
parkedattheedgeofitsparkinglot,nearanareareservedfortrucksandbuses.Sandovalsatataweather-beatenpicnictableunderanoaktree.Raynastood
aboutfiftyfeetaway,staringatthehorizon.Jimwavedherover.“WillyougotalktoLeia?”hesaid.“Idon’twanthertobealone.”“Ofcourse.Whatareyougoingtodo?”Jimtappedtheflashlightgentlyagainsthisleg.“Wrapupsomelooseends.I’llbebackinaminute.”Hewalkedovertothedoctorandsatdownoppositehimatthepicnictable.“I can’t help the woman,” Sandoval said preemptively. “We’ve conducted
hundredsofexperiments.We’vetrieddozensofvaccines.Thereisnocure.”“Iunderstand that,” Jimsaid. “Buthowdoyouexplain someone likeMatt?
Hecouldspeak,hecouldrun,hehadextraordinarystrength.Whydidthevirusaffecthimdifferently?”Sandovalshrugged.“IfIhadtohazardaguess,I’dsaythathewasasortof
carrier.Theparasitethatinfectedhimhadmutatedinawaybeneficialtoitshost.It kept him alive and healthy and sentient. It even augmented his cognitive,motor,andsensoryfunctions.Itreallywasawin-winsituation.”“Ifyoudon’tmindhavinganoctopusforahand.”“Well,yes.There’sthat.”“So, a certain fractionof those infected could turnout likeMatt,” Jim said.
“Normalonthesurface,yetteemingwithparasitesontheinside.”“Almostcertainly,”Sandovalsaid.“That sounds like a very important discovery. Something our government
shouldknowrightaway.Whydon’tyoucallthem?”Jimproducedhiscellphoneandplaceditonthepicnictable.Sandovalstaredatit.“You know what I find strange?” Jim continued. “The fact that you’re so
relaxed. The zombie threat is still out there. Even a nuclear strike couldn’tpossiblygetthemall.Butyou’rejusteatingapplesandstaringoutthewindow.
You haven’t tried to call anyone sincewe leftHouston. Theworld still needssaving,Doctor.”Sandovalkeptlookingatthephone.Hemadenoattempttopickitup.“Butperhaps,”Jimsaid,“youaren’tinterestedinsavingit.”Sandovalseemedamusedbytheaccusation.“And here I was, hoping to win GulfCon’s prize for most unrecognizable
costume,”hesaid.“Howdidyoufigureoutmysecret?”“Leiadid.Shesensedthat‘thenetwork’wasnearby.”Hegesturedatthevast,
empty landscape around them. “And since there’s probably not much of awirelessconnectionintheseparts,Ifiguredithadtobeyou.”Sandovalleanedbackfromthetableandcrossedhisarms.“You figured correctly,” he explained. “I was the very first person to have
physical contact with the specimens. I was also the first infected. Not that Irealized it. I developed flulike symptoms andwent home early on aFriday. Itwasaholidayweekend,soIhadthreedaystoshakeitoff.ComeTuesday,Iwasbacktomyoldself.”“Exceptthatyouweren’t.”“Correct.IsoonrealizedthatIwasnolongeraloneinmybody.Naturally,I
keptthatinformationtomyself.Icontinuedstudyingthealiens,butwithanew,radicallydifferentagenda.”“Youweren’tworking to contain them,” Jim said. “Youwere trying tohelp
them.”Sandovalnodded.“I learned, through my own experiments, that my blood was infectious. A
single drop was enough to change other organisms. But only into simplezombies. The sort of symbiotic union I’d developed was exceedingly rare. Icalculated that if everyone in the world was infected, only.6 percent of thevictims would become like me. But that’s still a significant number. Given acurrentworldpopulationofapproximatelysevenbillion,thatworksouttoaboutforty-twomillionmutatedindividuals.”“Anewspecies,”Jimsaid.“Correct.Mybenefactorswerevery interested in thisprospect.They—we—
formulatedawaytomakeithappen.Ihadn’tplannedtomovethisquickly,buteventsforcedmyhand.Lastweekseveralsuspiciousfileswerediscoveredandtracedtome.Aninvestigationwaspending.Ididn’twanttobeinterredinalittlesteelboxliketherestoftheinfectees.SoIhackedintothefacility’ssystemsanddisabledthesecurityprotocols.Thecomplexwasdestroyed,hidingalltracesofmy activities. Then I neutralized the GulfCon attendees—a gathering,essentially,ofallmygreatest,mostableadversaries.Iinfectedtheentirecityof
Houstonwiththepathogen,andthezombiesdidtherest.”“Howdidyouspreadtheplague?”Jimasked.“Aboutaweekago, Ipurchasedseveraldozenrats frompetstores, infected
themwithmyblood,andreleasedtheminvarioushigh-trafficlocations.Rodentsareextremelyeffectivediseasetransmitters.Theafflictionquicklyjumpedtothehumanpopulation,thenspreadexponentially.”“YoublamedCronin,buthewasjustavictim,notthevector,”Jimsaid.“No
onepersoncouldspreadadiseasethatquickly.”“True.IfI’dhadmoretime,Iwouldhaveinventedabetterstoryforyouand
your friends. But I was thinking on my feet. Blaming Cronin seemed likesomethingagroupoflaypeoplemightaccept.”“Whydidn’tyouhelpMatt?Hewaslikeyou.”“Matt was a hybrid, but an imperfect one. The fusion process drove him
insane.Still,mybenefactors didn’twantme to take a hand inhis destruction.Theyleftittoyou.”“SowhoamIspeakingtonow?YourbenefactorsorSandoval?”“Truthfully,it’shardtotellanymorewheretheyendandIbegin.”“Where’syourextraeye?”Sandovalsmiled.“It’salittlemoreinvolvedthanthat,”hesaid.“Mybenefactorshavehadyears
tomakeimprovements.HavealookatwhatImean.”Hegotupfromthetable,steppedback,andthenpulledoffhisshirt.AtfirstJimhadtroublecomprehendingwhathesaw.Sandoval’schestseemed
tobesubdividedbywhatlooked,atfirstglance,likeanelaboratetattoo.Blood-redlinesformedacomplexgeometricpatternthatstretchedfromhisnecktohiswaist.Fourtrianglesranupeachsideofhischest.Fourlargeredringssat justabovehisbelt.Abovethose,abatteryofsmallerrings.Andabovethat,centeredonhisribcage,satthebiggestringofall.Itwasaboutthesizeofagrapefruit.“Watch,”Sandovalsaid.Historsobegantomove.The triangles, Jim suddenly realized,weren’t tattoos. Theywere skin flaps.
Theredlineswerelivid,blood-engorgedflesh.Ashewatched,theyslowlyroseandfell.“Auxiliarybreathingapparatus,”Sandovalsaid.Tendrilsandfrillsdartedoutofthesmallerholesarrayedonhischest.“Sensoryorgans,”Sandovaloffered.Tentaclesissuedfromthefourholesjustabovehisbeltline.“Formanipulatingobjects,”Sandovalsaid.Finally, thebig circle in themiddleofhis chestopened. Itwasaneye.The
biggestalieneyeJimhadyetseen.“You’reamonster,”hesaid.“You could say that. There’s really not much of me left below the neck.
They’vedoneextensiveremodeling.”Jimstood.Thetwocircledeachotherslowly.“Iwasplanningmyescapewhenyoufoundme,”Sandovalsaid.“Sinceyour
own mode of egress seemed sound, I tagged along. But now you and yourfriendshaveservedyourpurpose. I’m truly sorry ithas toend thisway.But Imustmoveon.Theinvasionisn’tover.Thisisjustapause.”“That’swhereyou’rewrong,”Jimsaid.“Please don’t get delusions of grandeur. I’mvastly stronger thanMatt.One
mightevensayinvulnerable.”“Noone’sinvulnerable.Especiallyagainstapersonlikeme.”Sandovalsmiled.“SomeoneinaStarTrekuniformwhothinkshe’sCaptainKirk?”hesaid.“No. Someonewho’s entireworld has blown up in his face. Someonewho
doesn’t care ifhedies, as longashe takes the thing that causedhispainwithhim.”Jimraisedtheflashlight.Sandovallookedatitwithnewinterest.Henoticeda
whitepowderonthecasing.“YouspendtimeinAfghanistan,youlearnaboutIEDs,”Jimsaid.“Youlearn
howtospotthemandhowtomakethem.TheRVhadenoughcleaningproductsandotherchemicalstoproduceareallyniceflashlightbomb.AnythingIsmackthisagainstwillbeblowntobits.Ican’twaittoseewhatitdoestoyouandyourfriends.”JimleaptatSandovalandswungtheflashlight.Thecreaturesliddeftlyoutof
theway.Heswungagain.Anothermiss.“Catch,yousonofabitch,”Jimsaid.Hehurledthelightstraightathisopponent’schest.WithsuperhumanspeedSandovalcaughtitinhisrighthandandthentossedit
away.Itlandedintheparkinglot.Anddidn’texplode.“Adud,”SandovalsaidasheturnedtofaceJimoncemore.“No,”Jimreplied.“Adiversion.”During thedistraction,he’d reachedbehindhisbackandpulledout the two
Tasers secured tohis belt.He fired them simultaneously, at point-blank range,butSandovaleffortlesslysidesteppedthedarts.ThentwoofhistentacleslashedoutandyankedtheweaponsfromJim’shands.
“Here’stheironyofthissituation,”Sandovalsaid.“Allthistime,you’vebeentrying to figureoutaway tocure thewoman.But thesolutionwas literally inyourhands.Electricity.”“Idon’twanttokillher.”SandovalflungoneoftheTasersacrosstheparkinglot.Headjustedthedial
ontheremainingweapon,uppingthevoltagetomaximum.“Youwouldn’thavehadto,”heexplainedasheworked.“Intheseearlyhours,
the virus is very unstable. It’s replicating within her body but it hasn’t takencontrolofherneural system.You’llknow it’s reachedmaturitywhen the thirdeye appears.Until then it is sometimes possible to neutralize the viruswith ahigh-voltageblastofcurrent.Ofcourse,itwouldhavetobeaprettystrongdose.Nearlyenoughtokillher.”Heaimed theTaserat Jim’schestandgrinned.“Theonlyproblem is that it
hurtslikeasonofabitch.Allowmetodemonstrate.”For a moment, Jim didn’t realize what had happened. Everymuscle in his
body seemed to cramp at once. He cried out through gritted teeth. His body,twitching from the voltage flowing through it, fell to the ground, landing himface-firstinthedirt.For the first few seconds, he was still capable of cognizant thought. He
understood that the darts were delivering fifty thousand volts of electricitythroughhisneuromuscularsystem.Theonlywaytoendtheassaultwastopulloutthedarts.Butitwasimpossible.Hisbodywasnolongerunderhiscontrol.HecouldseetheUSSStockardacrosstheparkinglot,buttherewasnosignof
Rayna or Leia. There would be no dramatic rescue. They had received theirordersandwerefollowingthemtotheletter.Gradually,hisconsciousnessbegantodim,andtheneverythingwentblack.WhenJimopenedhiseyesagain,Sandovalwasonthefarendoftherestarea,
approachingtheentranceoftheRV.Jim’sheartwasracing,butotherwisehefeltnolingeringpain,noachesorcramps.Hetriedtopushhimselfofftheground,buthismusclesmovedslowly,asiftherewereathree-seconddelaybetweenhisthoughtsandhisactions.Itwasasthoughhisentirecentralnervoussystemhadbeenreconfigured.TheTaserlaydiscardedontheground,justanarm’slengthaway.Jimsummonedjustenoughwilltoyankthedartsoutofhischest.Acrosstherestarea,SandovalopenedthedoortotheRVandclimbedaboard.
No doubt he was planning to kill Rayna and Leia, but of course Jim hadanticipatedthat.Sandovalwouldn’tfindthemwaitingintheRV.Thewomenhadfledtothesafetyofthesurroundingforest.But now came the tricky part: Jimwas counting on the fact that Sandoval
wouldnotpursue them, thathehadnothing togainby tracking themdown. It
wasariskyassumption,buthehadimprovisedtheplantothebestofhisability.Therewasn’tmuchtoworkwith,afterall—justsomeexpensiveCubancigars,abottleofBacardi151,andathreadbareStarTrekpillowcase.The engine of theUSSStockard roared to life. TheRV lurched forward as
Sandoval cut a wide turn through the parking lot, turning the vehicle onehundredandeightydegrees.AsthefarsideoftheStockardturnedintoview,Jimwasrelieved tosee thebrightorangeflameswerealreadyrisingoutof its fueltank. He covered his face with his hands just as the Stockard literally wentairborne, propelled off the ground by an enormous explosion that sent flamesbillowingtwentyfeethigh.Fauxmetaltubesandpiecesofafakesatellitedishraineddownfromthesky.Cloudsofgraysmokerolledacross theparking lot,momentarilyobscuringeverything.Hepushedhimselftohisfeetandtestedhislimbs.Thethree-seconddelayhad
vanished.Hewaswholeagain.HereacheddowntopickuptheTaser.Whenhelookedupagain,hesawhissisterrunningtowardhim.
Chapter35AllGoodThings...“Oh,myGod,”Raynaexclaimed.“Areyouokay?”“Youdidit,”Jimsaid.“Thatwasperfect.Where’sLeia?”Raynapointedacrosstheparkinglot.“Sittingoverthere.She’sgettingreally
weak,Jim.Shecan’tevenwalk—”“Stayhere,”hesaid.“Whatareyougoingtodo?”Hissisterlookedlikeshewastenyearsoldalloveragain.Jimdidn’tanswer.
Hejuststartedrunning.TherewasnowayofknowingifSandovalhadtoldhimthetruth—buttherewasonlyonewaytofindout.HefoundLeiasittingserenelyatthebaseofanoaktree.“That was an excellent plan, Captain,” she said. “A double diversion. Kirk
wouldbeproud.”“Itwashalfyouridea,”heremindedher.“Usingthepillowcaseasafusewas
aninspiredtouch.”“Iwashappytobeofservice.”Hekneltbesideher,checkingherneckandarmsforanysignofanemerging
thirdeye.Foramoment,allseemedgood—untilhisfingersfoundtheboilonthebackofherneck.Itwasablotchofpurplefleshaboutthesizeofagolfball;thebruisedskinpulsedbeneathhistouch.“IsthatwhatIthinkitis?”Leiaasked.“Don’tgiveupyet,”Jimtoldher.“There’sachancewecanstopthisthing.”He hastily explainedwhat Sandoval had told him—that the parasites inside
Leiamightbeextinguisheduntilthemomentthethirdeyeemerged.Heunzippedhis duffel bag and loaded a fresh battery pack into the Taser. “Ifwe hurry, itmightwork.”“Howdoweknowhewastellingthetruth?”Leiaasked.“Wedon’t,”Jimsaid.“Butwehavetotry.”LeiaeyedJimcarefully.“Youdon’tneedtolietome,”shesaid.“I’mnotafraidtodie.”“I’venever lied toyouaboutanything,”Jimsaid.“Iwon’t startnow.But if
thisisgoingtowork,ithastohappenquickly.”She slowly, painfully stood up and turned her back to him, extending her
arms.Injustthespanofaminute,theboilonthebackofherneckhadbecome
darkerandevenmoreinflamed.Itappearedtobetwitching.“Goahead,”Leiashouted.“Whatareyouwaitingfor?”“First,tellmeyourname,”Jimsaid.“Yourrealname.”“I’lltellyouifIsurvive.”“Tellmenow,”hesaid.“Ihavetoknow.”“It’sShelly.”“Shellywhat?”“ShellyDumpkin.”“Seriously?Dumpkin?”“I’ll take your namewhenwe getmarried,” she promised him. “Assuming
youcanstillhandletheideaofacross-genrerelationship.”Jim didn’t know if he could proceed. The pain of being tasedwas nothing
comparedtothis.Hewasabouttosavethelifeofawomanheloved,orendit.Hewantedmoretime.Buteverysecondofdelaylengthenedtheodds.Asuddenflashoflightdrewhisattention.Leia—Shelly,hethought—looked
too.Inthedistancetheysawanimmenseorangeredfireballbroachthehorizonandrisetothesky.Itclimbedandclimbed,morphingintoatoweringmushroomcloud.“Good-bye,Houston,”hewhispered.“Hurry,Jim,”shesaid.“It’shappening.”Jimtorehiseyesawayfromtheconflagrationandlookedatherneckagain.
The boilwas changing now. It appeared to be stretching, fluttering, boiling—Hatching.JimpointedtheTaserandfired.Thegunwasatmaximumsetting.Thoughittookeverylastshardofhiswill,
Jimkeptthecurrentflowing.Tomakesure.Onewayortheother.Whenitwasover,Shelly’sbodylaystillonthedustyTexashardpan.JimlettheTaserfallfromhishand.I’ll carry her all theway to the roadblock if I have to, he thought. I won’t
leaveher lyinghere in themiddleof thewoods. I’llbringhersomeplacesafe.Wherenothingcaneverharmheragain.Hedroppedtohiskneesbesideherandstrokedherhair.ThecollarofShelly’scostumefellback,layingbarethewoundsonherneck.
Jim’svisionwasobscuredbytears.Ittookhimafewsecondstorealizethattheinjurieshadchanged.Theyweren’tbleedinganymore.Shellystirredinhisarms.“I...,”shewhispered.
Jimleanedcloser.“You’reallright?Youcanhearme?”Shellyopenedhereyes.“I...Ifelt...”Jimliftedherbytheshoulders,helpinghersitup.“Takeyourtime,”hesaid.
“Speakslowly.Whatareyoutryingtosay?”Shecoughedafewtimes,clearingherthroat.“Ifeltagreatdisturbanceinthe
force.”“Whatforce?”heasked.“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”“I’mquotingStarWarsdialogue,”shesaid.“IdoitwheneverI’mnervous.I
thoughtyou’dfiguredthatoutbynow.”“You’re jokingwithme?”Hewiped the tears fromhis face. “You’re really
okay?”Shellytookstockofherself.“Ithinkso,”shesaid.“Idon’tfeelthemanymore.AndIdon’tfeelsick.”Jimcheckedthemarksonherneckoncemore.“Theyaren’tbleeding,”hesaid.“Ithinkitworked.”Theyembracedjustastheshockwavefromthenuclearblastarrived.Hotwind
sweptover theirbodies,and theground trembledunder their feet.Theybarelynoticed.Rayna ran over to them.She’dwiped away her blueAndorianmakeup and
removedtheantennae.Shesawthemushroomcloudandstopped.“IthinkGulfConisofficiallyover,”Jimsaid.“Andnotaminutetoosoon,”Shellyadded.Raynasaidnothing.Instead,sheenfoldedShellyinacrushingembrace.“You’reokay?”sheasked,freshtearsstreamingdownherface.“Ithinkso,”Shellysaid.“Ithinkwe’reallokay.”“Thenwedidit,”Raynaexclaimed.“We’renotinazombiemovieanymore.
Oravideogame.It’slikewe’rebackinaStarTrekepisode,wherewebelong.”“Ormaybewe’renotinanything,”Jimsaid.“Maybethisisanewstory:Once
uponatime,therewerethreepeoplestrandedinthemiddleofadesert.Theyhadnovehicles,noplans,andnoideawhattodonext.”“I think they’dfollowthehighwayto thenext town,”Shellysaid.“Butfirst
they’draidtherestareavendingmachines.”“That’s right,” Rayna said. “They’d grab all the food and drink they could
carry.High-energy,low-volumestuff,likepeanutsandcandybars.”Shellynodded.“Andthey’dcarryTasers,incasethere’strouble.”“Asurvivalstory,”Raynasaid.“Ourstory,”Jimsaid,turningtofacetheroad.“Anditstartsrightnow.”
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Copyright©2010byKevinDavidAnderson
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