Author's note: In this chapter, we are hearing from both Addison's real dad, and her biological one. enjoy!

ZzZzZzZ

Zombie Patrol Chief Dale Wells was not happy. Not at all.

He had been awakened shortly before two in the morning by the loud crackling of the police scanner, which he always kept on his bedside table. Seabrook had little to no crime issues, and the scanner was generally very quiet during the night shift. So, when the scanner had loudly jerked him awake in the middle of the night, he was immediately on high alert.

"Attention, 904. All fire units, please respond to a large 11-71 at 515 Pinewood Court. House is fully engulfed. Possible fatalities. Unknown whether anyone was in the home."

Dale had sat bolt upright at that. He knew that address, for more reasons than one. That address had been the location of the Brighten tragedy ten years ago, involving Dr. Brighten's youngest daughter. The scene in that home would be burned into his memory forever, and he still occasionally had nightmares about it. But more pressingly, it was the address of Addison's best friend, Bree. Where Addison was currently staying the night.

He had immediately flown out of bed, frantically dressing in the dark and grabbing his phone. Looking over, he had glanced down at his wife's sleeping form on the bed. For a short second, he considered waking her. Missy was a notoriously sound sleeper, and never heard the scanner on the rare occasions that it went off. But he didn't want to alarm her for no reason. Not until he knew exactly what was going on. For all he knew, everyone was completely fine. Striding over, he quickly kissed her on the temple, then rushed out into the night.

Jumping into his tiny patrol car, he had driven twice the legal limit, sirens blaring into the night. His little girl might be in danger. As he sped towards 515 Pinewood Court, his mind flashed through thoughts of his daughter. A five year old Addison, giggling as her wig fell down over her eyes during a cartwheel in the backyard. Addison at ten in a muddy cheer uniform, entering their front door carrying a turtle she had found in a ditch and begging him to let her keep it. The look of fear and panic in her eyes when he had told her that until she introduced them to her boyfriend, she would never cheer again.

Of course, he had certainly never even entertained the idea that the boy she was seeing would be a zombie, nor that their relationship would have progressed so far. And now, his baby girl was engaged. Her whole life was ahead of her, and he and Missy were just beginning to accept her unusual partner and group of friends. Dale wanted to be a better dad to her. He'd just needed time to realize it. She had to be okay, She had to.

Thankfully, when he had arrived at the scene, he had been quickly relieved to discover that his daughter was perfectly fine. His future son-in-law, on the other hand, had a severely injured shoulder, apparently from tackling the accused arsonist to the ground. After receiving a confusing set of instructions from Addison, he sent them off to the hospital, promising to meet them in an hour with Missy and Addison's other friends. Dale wasn't certain, but he was pretty sure that he knew, at least in part, what his daughter wanted to talk to them about.

The real question was; How in the world she had found out? He and Missy had kept their promise to one another to never speak of the indiscretion, from day one. They had always been so careful never to mention it, to never even think about it. But he was thinking about it now, for the first time in years.

Dale had been afraid, that first day in the hospital, that he would be unable to care for a child that was not biologically his. But from the first time he'd held her, it had been clear to him that she was always meant to be his daughter. He had fallen in love instantly, with her sweet disposition and perfect, cherubic face. Swaddled in his arms, she had stared up at him with those sparkling blue eyes. How could he not immediately love her as his own?

Addison and Missy, his perfect little family.

Now, Dale looked down at the man that he secretly hated, on the ground in handcuffs and slowly awakening. The man who, ironically, he owed so much of his happiness to. Of course he knew that Charles was her biological father. It wasn't exactly hard to figure out. The white hair, clearly some kind of genetic anomaly, was a dead giveaway. Dale suspected that Missy knew who he was as well, since he was the only person on the city council who had never once been invited to dinner at their home. Yet they all had to work together frequently, and so Dale had always managed to maintain a cordial professional relationship with the man.

If Dale was being honest, he was a little jealous that Zed had actually gotten to tackle him. Dale had been wanting to do so himself for years.

Groaning, Charles looked up at him, his left eyebrow swelling and blue as a deep bruise began to form. Zed and the other boys had really done a number on him.

"Hello, Dale." Charles said, in a pleasant and conversational tone that did not fit their current situation at all. "Quite an interesting evening we're having, isn't it?"

"Charles." Dale said, forcing politeness into his tone. "You've been accused by several people of starting a fire at the Brighten house. What can you tell me about that?"

Charles laughed. "Dale, do I strike you as the type of person who goes around setting fires?"

Dale sighed. "Charles, what I think isn't important. Surely, you understand that I'll have to take you in for questioning."

The councilman offered a half shrug. To Dale's deep satisfaction, the movement seemed to cause him a fair amount of discomfort. In all honesty, he wasn't sure if Charles actually was capable of intentionally setting a fire in order to kill others. He shouldn't let his own bias against the man cloud his judgement.

Besides, all Charles Moon ever did was donate money to a plethora of causes around Seabrook. The guy was basically a saint, as far as the rest of the city was concerned. They didn't know that once, years ago, the man had taken advantage of and impregnated an innocent woman. Dale's hand involuntarily balled into a fist as he thought of it.

Fortunately, the fact that Moon was out here in the middle of the night, a few miles from his own home, was suspicious in itself. It would be no problem to hold him for up to 24 hours, based on that alone. That would give Addison plenty of time to speak with him and Missy, and to explain whatever it was she needed to explain. And, it would provide more time for Dale to sort out the myriad of other questions he currently had circling in his head. Such as what had actually taken place tonight, and who the three white-haired teens he'd seen earlier were.

"Gus," Dale called, turning to watch the man approach. "Take Mr. Moon into the custody, and have a medic come take a look at him once you get to the station. I'll be along in a few hours to question him." He turned to look at Charles, who was calmly following the interaction.

"Sorry about all of this, Charles," Dale said, not actually feeling sorry at all. "But I'm sure you understand."

"Of course," Charles said amicably. "You're just doing your job, Dale. It's all for the good of Seabrook, right?"

"Right." Dale said, begrudgingly. The guy was so darned charming.

"Besides," Charles continued, "I'm sure this will all be sorted out soon enough." He grinned, and allowed Gus and another officer to lead him slowly to a nearby patrol car.

Dale sighed, and checked his watch. He'd have to go back by the house to get Missy. Then, he would go with her to meet Addison at the hospital, and have the conversation he had hoped they'd never have to have.

It was going to be a very, very long night.

ZzZzZzZ

The patrol car hummed quietly as it drove towards the Z-patrol station across town. Charon sighed, leaning his extremely sore head back against the car seat. The cramped conditions in the small squad vehicle were certainly not as roomy as he would have liked. Owning a luxury vehicle had ruined all other cars for him. He shifted from side to side, in a pointless attempt to get more comfortable with the rather bulky handcuffs forcing his arms behind him.

Looking around contemplatively, Charon briefly considered escaping.

It would be fairly easy to subdue the officers in the front seats, and to then kick his way out of the back door. The cuffs would also be no problem to pull apart. They had put him in handcuffs meant for humans, not the much stronger ones designed to hold zombies and werewolves. Then he could get the key from one of the unconscious officers, and free his wrists from the metal bands.

But if he did escape, he would be all but confessing to starting the fire. He would have to go into hiding, and the life he had built for himself would be forfeit. More importantly, Charon's reputation would be sullied. He certainly couldn't afford to do that. It was true that his plans were going to change Seabrook and the people in it forever. However, he was still going to have to live amongst them afterwards.

So Charon decided that the best move would be to play along with the arrest. They had no evidence on him, and he'd ensured that they would find nothing at the scene. He had also heard Chief Dale's inner monologue, and knew that they would only be able to hold him for around 24 hours. He'd be out by Thursday morning, at the latest. That still gave him plenty of time to put his plan into action on Friday at the Shore Day Festival. Everything was in place. His only concern up until now had been to ensure that his children and their friends didn't do anything that would prevent him from completing his work. He had tried multiple times to get them out of the equation, with little luck.

Though as Charon thought about it, he couldn't help but wonder if his heart wasn't fully in it.

Surely, if he truly wanted Mayar and Starlight dead, they would be so by now. He had thought that tonight would wrap things up nicely. Waiting until they were all sound asleep, Charon had cut the lines to the alarm system, so that they would not be awakened. He'd also tried to arrange it so that it would be as painless as possible. They would die in their sleep from the smoke inhalation, before the flames would ever reach them.

He didn't want a group of innocents to suffer. He wasn't a monster.

Charon had stood in the woods, listening as each mind slowly faded into silence, and felt confident in his success. An unfortunate but necessary sacrifice.

What he hadn't anticipated was the zombie safe room that apparently resided underneath the Brighten home, and the subsequent escape tunnel that had brought the group of girls to safety. When he'd heard their minds fading out, it hadn't been due to death; it had been due to distance. He should have taken this possibility into consideration. Of course Dr. Brighten and his wife would be more prepared for disaster than the average family in Seabrook. They had already seen what could happen when one's guard was left down.

Charon also certainly hadn't expected the others to show up at the scene as he hid in the woods nearby. Nor had he anticipated that they would track and hunt him down like a group of avenging angels. Charon gently ran his tongue along his lower lip, feeling the sharp sting where it had been split by that giant lug of a zombie's punches. His shoulder still burned from the vicious bite Zed had inflicted on his shoulder. He was definitely going to be sore for a few days, and his favorite jacket now had a large hole in the shape of a Zed's teeth.

Not that any of it would matter, after Friday.

As they rounded a sharp corner, he listed to the side, bumping his already bruised head lightly against the window. He frowned. He would have thought that Gus would treat a high ranking citizen such as himself with greater care.

"Sorry, Mr. Moon." Gus said from the driver's seat. "I didn't mean to take that turn so fast."

"No worries, Gus." Charon said, offering him as pleasant a smile as he could manage. Again, he briefly considered attacking the two officers in the front, but instead chose to restrain his anger. He just needed to be patient for a few hours.

This current set of inconveniences would only be a minor setback in the big scheme of things. He was willing to take a few hits (both literally and figuratively) for the overall good of his fellow citizens. One day, they would all look back on this and thank him. He would be the hero of Seabrook. He would be known as the one who, once and for all, provided the city with true equality and order.

His plan would benefit everyone. The people of Seabrook would finally be truly unified, and he would no longer have to worry about his increasing age. Charon was forty-five years old. He knew he was running out of time, and he simply hadn't enjoyed enough of this life yet. He wanted more money, more power, and more time. And he would get it.

Very, very soon, he would fix everything.