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.”

*

Copyright©2010byKevinDavidAnderson

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