• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

Valentine was giving Alice a look that was both furious and curious.

However, for the moment, all she did was indicate Alice’s final victim and the words on the gravestone. “I’ve really had enough irony for one day.”

Alice cracked a slight smile at that.

“Let’s move.”

There was a gate on the far side that led to Killiany Way, a small side street that emptied onto Swann Road, a larger street and therefore easier to defend oneself on, but not so busy that it was likely to be packed to the gills with undead.

The rain had stopped, and the sky was clearing. The moon was about three-quarters full and that, along with the occasional burning car, provided the only illumination for the foursome as they wended their way toward Swann.

“Where are we going?” Morales asked.

Alice looked up, realizing that this was perhaps the wrong way to go.

Sitting on the corner of Killiany and Swann was an imposing brick edifice with a large sign carved into the stonework over the front entrance:

CITY MORGUE.

In response to Morales’s question, Alice said, “The hell away from here.”

They turned onto Swann. Alice stayed on the double yellow line, the others following her.

“No signal.”

Alice turned to see Wells trying to use a cell phone. He kept putting it to his ear, then staring accusingly at the display. She almost laughed.

“No reception at all.”

“Someone’s jamming it,” Alice said.

“Who?”

“Umbrella. They want to keep news of what’s happening here from getting out.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Morales muttered. She wandered to the sidewalk to film one of the looted buildings.

“Stay in the middle of the street,” Alice called out. “Keep away from enclosed spaces. Most of those things are slow. We’ll be better off in the open.”

To Alice’s surprise, Morales listened to her. She supposed that her ass-kicking of the undead had gained her some respect.

She shook her head. Ass-Kicking Alice—that had been her nickname in Security Division. Looked like she’d really earned it now.

Morales pulled out another bottle of pills. This time, Alice took pity on her—besides, if they were going to get out of this, they needed to have all their faculties about them. Alice wasn’t worried in the least about Valentine, and Wells wouldn’t be a factor for very long—if Valentine couldn’t kill him, Alice would—but Morales needed to be at what passed for her best.

So Alice knocked the pill bottle to the wet pavement.

“Don’t take these. They’re not good for you.” She smiled. “I know a few things about pharmaceuticals.”

Morales looked stunned for a minute, then nodded.

“Yes—yes, of course—you’re right.”

Alice turned to move forward. Behind her, Valentine was giving her another one of her furious/curious looks. The fact that Alice didn’t need to look to know this frightened her—yet another notch for Cain’s ledger.

“What are you staring at?” she asked

“I’m not sure.” Valentine fell into step beside Alice. “Those were some pretty slick moves back there. I’m good—some might say the best. But I’m not that good.”

“You should be thankful for that,” Alice said quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“They did something to me.”

With a start, Alice realized that that was really all she could say. She had no trouble trusting Valentine, given what they were all going through—and that they’d likely all be dead by morning—but she really didn’t know anything beyond that Cain and his goons had done something to her.

As they passed a pay phone, it started ringing.

“Let’s keep moving before the sound attracts anything,” Alice said, picking up the pace.

Valentine kept up with her, Morales and Wells lagging behind.

The ringing stopped as soon as they were past the pay phone.

Weird.

Then, as they passed a mostly looted deli, the pay phone next to its front door started to ring.

“Keep going,” Alice said, not liking this one bit.

Again, the ringing stopped once they passed it.

“Is it just me,” Morales said, “or is this a little weird?”

They reached an intersection, and suddenly it