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The party was in full swing when Major and Natalie arrived. He couldn't get over what a difference a day had made. When this party had been proposed, he had expected to slink in, ashamed of being human and of having nowhere else to go with Fillmore Graves no longer part of his life. Instead, he was walking in at the peak of happiness—accompanied by a beautiful woman, and days away from running away with her to a whole new life in an amazing place by a much warmer sea than Seattle could boast.

He was able to smile whole-heartedly when Stoll pushed his way through the crowd toward him, shouting "Man of the hour!" Stoll grabbed him by the arm and dragged him through the house, as all their fellow soldiers raised their glasses to Major and cheered him. He just barely managed to hang on to Natalie's hand in the process, bringing her along with him.

In the center of the living room they came to a stop. When the "Hey!"s had cleared and he thought anyone might be able to hear him, Major raised his voice and called out, "Everyone, this is Natalie. Natalie … everyone." She raised her hand and waved, and they cheered her, too, calling out her name.

Stoll gave him an envious look. "Must be nice to be free, son." He reached out and shook Natalie's hand.

Justin had made his way through the crowd to Major's side, and Major caught his eye. "Hey, uh, so is Liv here yet?"

"Just texted—crime stuff. She's going to be late."

Major vividly remembered what that was like. He wondered what kind of brain Liv was on at the moment, but let the thought pass away as someone called out invitingly "Drinks? Drinks?" He raised his hand. "Yes, please!"

It was a great party. Natalie seemed to be enjoying herself, and for a minute Major felt a pang, thinking about what life could have been like here, working with these people, Natalie at his side. But Natalie would be at his side, anyway, and they could go and explore Italy and she could take pictures and he could give some real thought to who Major Lilywhite wanted to be for the rest of his life. It was more than enough.

A couple of hours or so in, Stoll climbed up on a table, raising his beer. "Everyone! Everyone, can I have your attention?" Major and all the others turned to look at him. Stoll met Major's eyes across the room. "Everyone, if I may—a toast. To Major Lilywhite."

Natalie pressed in close and Major put his arm around her, trying not to think about how much this was like going to his own funeral … except that he was alive, and everyone else here was dead, much as it felt like the other way around.

Stoll went on, "A good man; a good friend. Too pretty … too human … too tan, alas, yes. But I say, let us not judge a man by the color of his skin but by the content of his character." He lifted the red Solo cup high over his head and cried out, "To Major!"

Everybody whooped and raised their cups in return. Major lifted his, only to have it practically knocked out of his hand by someone bumping into his back. As the precious beer spilled out onto the floor, he turned around, protesting, "I have a beverage here! All right. I'm gonna miss you guys, too." Stoll had climbed down and come toward him, and Major hugged him. It was hard to remember back to the early days at Fillmore Graves when Stoll had seemed so professional, so unapproachable, and Major had despaired whether he could ever catch up to the others, ever fit in. Now here he was, leaving them, but one of them. One of them always.

"I mean it," he added, stepping back from Stoll and looking around. "I'm going to miss you guys."

Justin smiled at him. "We got you, man." He leaned in close, saying quietly in Major's ear, "Listen, can we talk?" The smile had faded from his face.

"'Kay." Major looked at him with concern. He shared a glance with Natalie, making sure she knew where he would be, and followed Justin through the party and out onto the porch in the cool, peaceful Seattle night. It had begun to snow lightly, so they grabbed their coats on the way out.

Justin stopped on the sidewalk, looking up into the sky, watching the snow come down.

"What's up?" Major asked.

"I hate to pull you out of there. It's Liv." Turning to look at Major, he went on, "She was supposed to be here a couple of hours ago, now I can't get a hold of her. Is this a thing she does, or—"

Major hated to tell his friend that it sounded like whatever brain she was on was stronger than she was; without knowing what kind of brain it was, he didn't even want to begin to speculate. He shrugged, instead, and said brightly, "Sometimes she gets caught up in her work. I'm sure something just came up." But he didn't believe it, and he didn't sound like he believed it, and from Justin's face, he didn't believe it, either. Major was sorry to see it—he liked Justin, and he loved Liv, and he would have felt good leaving them together knowing they could take care of each other.

"I just wish she'd tell me what she was up to, you know?"

"I know. But it's important to her; it gives her purpose. Still, it's why we weren't together even though we were both zombies." They turned and started up the stairs toward the party. Major was saying, "I told Liv I didn't want her out there, putting herself in danger—"

And then something exploded in front of them. Major felt himself flying off the steps, blown backward, and everything went black.