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Jasper interrupted. “Valentine, shut the fuck up and shoot this asshole, will you?”

“No.”

Peanut had no idea where this bitch suddenly got a conscience, but he’d take it.

“Whaddaya mean, no?”

“I mean, he dropped his gun when we told him to. I don’t kill people unless they threaten me. This asshole hasn’t threatened me.” Then she looked at him and smiled, as if Peanut was a meal she was about to chow down on. “Yet.”

“I ain’t threatenin’ shit, lady.”

“Peanut’s cool,” Andre said. “He the one that told the Council t’listen t’me, an’ shit.”

“Good for him,” Valentine said. “Let’s see if he can keep his cool factor high. Besides the two on the road, where are your other sentries?”

Peanut frowned. “Whatchoo talkin’ ’bout, bitch?”

“Other sentries. Where are they?”

This bitch was crazy. “We don’t got no ‘other’ sentries. Shit, what the fuck for? We blocked off all the other roads. Don’t nobody come ’cept that way. Then we step to.”

“And if someone, say, walked up from the Inner Harbor?”

“Don’t nobody do that.” Was this bitch mental or some shit? “How the fuck they get there? Ain’t nobody but zees and junkies in this town left. Everybody else, they take the road.”

Valentine looked at Jasper. “You dealt with these guys?”

Jasper shrugged. “Only game in town.”

“No, you were the only game in town. They were just playacting, and everyone bought it. Jesus, fifteen people? You could’ve taken them down in a heartbeat instead of doing your hermit act.”

Again, Jasper shrugged. “I thought there were more.”

Peanut didn’t say nothing. They always tried to make it seem as if there were about fifty of them whenever Jasper was around. String always put that shit together.

“Well, your reign of terror is over. Officer Jill Valentine has come to town.”

Now it all made sense. “Shit, another cop? Damn.”

“Not just a cop,” Jasper said. “S.T.A.R.S. You don’t fuck with them.”

Valentine grinned.

Jill was amazed at how easy it was.

She and Jasper moved around to the Inner Harbor—having to shoot their way through a few “zees” on the way—and approached the convention center from the rear entrance. It took them five minutes of walking up stairs and through corridors and down escalators before they finally found a supply room—unguarded, amazingly—and then another minute before they saw a person, who surrendered right away.

Only one person resisted, and Jill shot her between the eyes. That left six. One guy, who called himself String and who Peanut had said would likely be the leader of the ones left, agreed to Jill and Jasper’s terms: Open up the convention center to everyone, or get shot.

Andre led the rest of the survivors from the row house on Fayette to the convention center. The stronger ones (which weren’t very many) carried the food from the deli. A few wouldn’t come past a certain point until they saw that nobody would shoot them.

That night, Jill organized a huge feast. It was all canned food and water from the convention center’s supply.

Jasper walked over to her during the feast. “Nice job.”

“Thanks.”

“No, thank you. It was easier to stay put in the ARM building, do my business, and forget the rest of the world. But this—” He shook his head. “Shit, this is why I became a cop.”

Jill grinned. “Not just so you could carry a gun?”

“Nah, I hate guns.”

“Really?” Jill’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Yeah. Was always a good shot, but I hate the fucking things. I’d rather talk. But the real world’s the real world, so fuck it, I use my guns. But, nah, I became a cop ’cause I wanted to help people.” He shook his head. “That’s some sappy shit, ain’t it?”

Jill shrugged. “But it works. This”—she indicated the large convention center floor where they were holding the feast for more than a hundred of the remaining living Baltimoreans—“is better than what there was before. Everyone together instead of in three different factions. And maybe someday someone’ll come up with a cure.”

Jasper snorted. “You believe that?”

“I have to.” Jill looked