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At last, he got the text he'd been waiting for. "Home. Safe. Meet us in the morgue."

Major hurried over, anxious to see them both, to reassure himself they were okay. Ravi was already hard at work when Major entered the morgue, calling out his name. He looked around, but didn't see Liv. "Where's Liv?" He put the bag of Max Rager down next to his roommate.

"She's on her way to Blaine's." Ravi was crying.

"Why Blaine's?"

Turning, clearly in an extremity of grief, Ravi tried to get himself under control enough to speak. "They— They killed Peyton."

Whatever Major had been expecting, it wasn't that. Peyton? Why would anyone kill her? Well, other than the acting major of Seattle thing, but she'd survived this long …

But none of that mattered, not even Major's own grief for his dear friend, next to the weight of Ravi's pain. He took a step forward and gathered Ravi into his arms, holding him while he wept.

Ravi pulled away after only a moment, clearly worried that if he gave way to his grief, he wouldn't be able to work on the cure. He leaned back against his table, his eyes on his shoes as he tried to explain. "Blaine and Don E, they, uh, they kidnapped the Freylich kids and the orphans. Peyton rescued them."

Of course she had. Peyton was brave, and selfless, and all the things good heroes were. Major reached for Ravi again as he began to lose the battle with his tears, but Ravi pushed at him.

"Get away." He turned around, facing the chemical apparatus, getting himself together. Putting a hand on the bag, Ravi said, "I pray that's full of Max Rager."

"It is."

Ravi nodded. "Okay." He sniffed again. "It's, uh … It'll take some time before there's enough for public distribution."

Major's mind was racing. How to buy Ravi time? How to get Enzo's attention long enough to distract him from whatever plans he was hatching? How to keep the government's eyes on New Seattle and hold them long enough to keep them from nuking the whole city? Every life lost to the human-zombie battle from this moment on was a life wasted. Major wasn't fool enough to think he could save everyone … but he could do his best to prevent as much bloodshed as possible.

He needed a cure. A single cure. "How long to make just one?" he asked his roommate.

Ravi turned to him, startled. "What?"

"I need one. Not for me—well, for me, but …" The plan was forming in his mind, but it wasn't firm enough to explain. Not yet. "I want to go on TV and make sure everyone knows there's a cure coming. I have to— I lost Fillmore Graves, Ravi. Enzo took it from me. He's running the place like … like no one matters, zombies or humans. He and Dolly Durkins are going to get dozens of people killed, maybe hundreds, and soon. If I can stall them, if I can prevent that long enough …"

"And for that you need a cure."

"Yes." Major nodded. "I need to be able to prove that it works."

Ravi frowned, trying to follow. "I'm not exactly working at peak clarity right now, but … I'm not sure."

"Ravi. Will you trust me? Please? I know what I'm doing. I want—I want to do right by Seattle, for as long as I can."

"That's what Peyton said."

"I know. She said it to me, too."

They looked at each other for a moment, filled with affection and sorrow and fear, and at last, Ravi nodded. "One cure. Coming up. It'll take an hour or so. Get some rest. You look like hell."

"So do you."

"Yeah, well, hell is where I live now." Ravi turned back to his apparatus, ending the conversation. Major found the sofa in the office and sacked out. He hadn't thought he could sleep—the news about Peyton, his near-constant concern for Liv's safety, his worries for Ravi's sanity, his fears for the city of Seattle as a whole, all felt too big to sleep with. But his body had been under a strain for more hours than he could coherently count, and blissful blackness took him within minutes.

He woke up to the nightmare. Everything came rushing back, in place of whatever non-zombie Seattle dream he'd been having, and he wanted to … give up. He wanted to cry, and scream, and go running out to kill Blaine and Don E, the way he should have years ago, and Enzo, and Dolly Durkins …

But none of that would help. It wouldn't save Peyton, or bring Ravi back the love of his life, or keep Liv safe, or keep the US from gunning down American citizens just because they happened to be dead. The only thing that could accomplish any of that was Major, in his right mind, pulling off this plan.

He got up and went into the main section of the morgue. Ravi was still at it. He looked like he hadn't moved. "How's it coming?" Major asked, keeping his voice low so he wouldn't startle his roommate.

"Almost there. No time to test it, though. If it doesn't work …"

"It'll work." Of all the things that could go wrong, Ravi's science was the last one Major was going to worry about.

Without turning, Ravi said hoarsely, "Dale had the baby. A boy. Clive got there just in time."

"That's …" Major felt tears filling his eyes. "God, that's maybe the only news that could have—could have made this feel worthwhile."

"Yeah. Almost." Ravi cleared his throat, handing Major a vial. "Here. It's done."

Major wanted to reach out to his roommate, tell him it would be okay. But it wouldn't be okay, because Peyton was gone, and Ravi would never recover. Neither would Major or Liv. But they could do this for her.

"I won't screw this up," Major promised.

At that, Ravi did turn, "Neither will I." He glanced at his work. "This can wait. I'll go with you. I want—I want to see this through." It was the only thing left that they could do for her.