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"I want these men taken alive," Enzo said to the man behind him, gesturing to the captured humans. The effrontery of him, giving orders like he had any right to be in charge. Except that his greater firepower actually did give him that right, at least in this moment.
"Yes, sir."
Tired of being ignored, Major said, "Figured I'd run into you eventually."
Enzo pretended not to hear him, speaking to his men, instead. "Your weapons are pointed the wrong way, gentlemen. This war has just begun. The future of our species is at stake." He gestured to Major now. "You can die here for the sake of this … leader. Or you can live. To fight by my side for zombie-kind. That is the choice."
Next to Major, a soldier lowered his weapon.
"Ames, with me. That's an order!"
But Ames didn't respond to the voice of command. His weapon stayed down. "I'm sorry. It's the only way." And he left the line of battered soldiers to join Enzo.
The rest of the men on Major's side looked at each other and then did the same, leaving Major on his own, facing down a dozen armed men. He'd had odds nearly this bad before, but he didn't like it any better now than he had before.
"Look at the zombie lives I just saved," Enzo said.
Major backed slowly away, hoping they wouldn't notice. One step at a time. Let them think it was fear.
Enzo added, "Except for one, of course."
As the soldier next to him handed him a pistol and he raised and aimed it, Major stopped backing away, turned, and ran. Bullets followed him even as he leaped over a pile of boards and came down in the water on the other side. He ducked under an outcropping and waited there, holding his breath. Did he even need to hold his breath? As a zombie, could he survive underwater without breathing indefinitely, as long as he had brains?
He wasn't sure—Ravi would know, but he was far away and in his own danger—but his lungs certainly believed they needed to breathe. By the time he thought it was safe to swim away and emerge from the water somewhere far away from where he'd gone in, they were burning.
Exhausted, disheartened, afraid, out of options, he lay there on the dock, leaning up against a pile of concrete, until darkness fell.
He watched on his phone as Enzo had a trained Romero zombie scratch one of the captured humans, on national television, and then the new zombie fell on his former friend and ate his brain. Enzo made it clear what would happen to any human who stood against him. He basically dared the United States government to send a nuke to take out New Seattle and all the zombies living there.
So. It was over. Lying there, Major looked up into the sky, almost surprised he didn't see the bombs arcing in already. Maybe it took time to decide to destroy a major American city. If New Seattle was even American—or a city—anymore.
Darkness fell before Major felt up to moving. And in the midst of his despair, his phone rang. Liv.
"Hey."
"Major," she said breathlessly, "it's me. We got the formula and we're heading back. We just need the Max Rager from Fillmore Graves, and then … we've got the cure."
He'd known she could do it. And Ravi. They had never stopped working for this, never stopped believing it was possible. Now, if only there could still be a city for them to come back to.
Wearily, Major said, "That's great. Really great news. I could use some good news."
On the other end, Liv's voice said, "Sorry. We've got to run before security gets here, so just …"
"Right. Just … uh, get the Max Rager from the storage area in Fillmore Graves. Don't worry." He kept his voice strong so she wouldn't know how impossible that had just become. Liv had just accomplished the impossible herself. The least Major could do was not rain on her parade by telling her what a mess he had made of things here. "I'll get it," he promised her. He had to. The only way the people still left in New Seattle, zombie and human alike, had any chance of surviving, was if somehow Major Lilywhite managed to fulfill his part of the deal.
Above his head, a helicopter whirred, and a searchlight swept the area. It didn't come near him, and Major tried to work up the energy to be glad of that.
At least Liv and Ravi weren't in Seattle, he thought. Whatever happened, they would survive, and they would make the cure somehow, and save the rest of the world.
Meanwhile, Major had to try to get to Fillmore Graves and steal a whole lot of Max Rager—and hope to hell that Enzo didn't have his own plans for the stockpile and get to it first.
"All right," he said softly to himself. "Journey of a thousand miles begins with … standing up." He was grateful to be a zombie as he put his hand out and started to lever himself up off the ground. If he was a human, he probably wouldn't have survived this day; as it was, he was so full of aches and pains that getting up required significant effort.
Now, he thought, looking around him. Where to start? How did you pull off a heist in terrible condition, starving for brains to heal your body, and all alone?
