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Major found out the next day what he had encouraged Chase Graves to do—perform the first public execution of a zombie. A woman calling herself Mama Leone, a woman who smuggled humans out of New Seattle, and smuggled humans who wanted to be zombies back in. A clear law-breaker. Still … it made Major uncomfortable to think of killing her. And he could see it made Chase Graves uncomfortable, too.

Was this who they had been forced to become?

It was all hands on deck for the execution. There hadn't been a formal announcement of the execution, in hopes of keeping the crowds down—and because Chase Graves was unhappy he had been forced into doing this at all and wanted as few spectators as possible—but people would find out. People always found things out. So they were preparing for any possibility.

Major dutifully helped set up the guillotine, building a perimeter of fencing around the structure to keep anyone from trying a last-minute heroic stunt. He thought of Liv, Liv smuggling that child out of New Seattle, and his heart grew cold within him. If anyone would think she could get through the barricades and save the day, solve this problem, it would be Olivia Moore. He hoped that somehow, some way, she wouldn't be here. If things went terribly wrong today—and he thought there was a good chance they would—he didn't want Liv caught in the middle.

As expected, a small crowd, shouting and largely appearing displeased, had gathered by the time they were ready to begin. Many in the crowds had white hair. The zombies were out, and they weren't happy about this.

Chase Graves took the stage. It was his company, he was in charge, he was taking responsibility for enforcing the laws he had set. But it was clear he was holding himself together with considerable effort. "Fillmore Graves takes no joy in this act. But this is a new world. The laws we've enacted are essential to ensuring our place within it."

Shouts of "Save her!" came up from the crowd, and a particularly loud voice, from a guy in a green coat in the front, shouted out, "You're a monster, Graves! Let her go!"

Major thought Chase Graves probably agreed with that assessment of himself today … but he had no other choice, not if he was going to try to keep the zombie population even somewhat manageable, not if he was going to maintain order in this city.

Over continued shouts of "Save her!" and "Let her go!", Chase Graves spoke loudly and clearly and calmly. "Penalties for breaking these laws are necessarily severe."

Another voice, this one from a tall guy in a black leather jacket, screamed out, "Crush her skull! Kill her!", countered by green coat shouting, "You have no right to do this!"

Through it all, Mama Leone remained silent, maintaining her dignity. Major was glad he was placed so he didn't have to look at her. He hated what they were doing, although he understood why it had to be done.

Chase Graves spoke again: "Any action that endangers our survival cannot be tolerated. There are those outside our walls who want to destroy us. And there are those in our city working toward that same end. We will show the world that humans and zombies can co-exist. Our survival depends on it. The smuggling of humans into Seattle, and creation of new zombies, stops today."

Then, over the crowd, he heard the voice he had been expecting, and dreading, to hear. Liv, calling his name. And like a good soldier, he didn't turn to look at her. He didn't even acknowlege her presence. Because she wasn't wrong, and Chase Graves wasn't wrong, and if Major turned to look at her, if he responded to her, he didn't know which side to be on.

The crowd was louder now, competing cries of "Save her!" and "Kill her!" Without looking, Major could imagine Mama Leone being brought to the guillotine, forced to kneel before it, to put her head on the platform, facing those who had come to watch her die, being strapped in. Was she weeping? Was she angry? Was she afraid to die? He didn't know. He didn't think he wanted to know.

Liv had gone silent, which also worried him. The Liv Moore he knew would be shouting with the crowd, above the crowd, would be trying to stop this thing from happening, would be standing in front of him begging for his help. But she was doing none of those things. Had Liv given up? Had this broken her? Or was she trying some hare-brained scheme to effect a last-minute rescue?

Chase Graves had also gone silent, but Major had no trouble imagining his face. Even though zombies didn't age, there were lines in his superior officer's face now that hadn't been there a few months ago. They hadn't expected it to be easy, but they hadn't expected it to be this hard just to feed their people, to broker peace between zombies and humans. Maybe they had been foolish optimists. Certainly, Chase Graves had never expected to have to use this instrument of barbarism.

Behind him, Major heard a gun cock, and one of his fellow soldiers ordering, "Stand down."

He closed his eyes. That had to be Liv. Please stop. Please just let this happen, he thought. He couldn't lose Liv today, not in some quixotic attempt to stop the inevitable. But there was nothing else from that quarter, and Major breathed a moment's sigh of relief—only to stop breathing entirely when the guillotine landed with a sickening sound he would never forget.

It was done. They were monsters. There was no walking back from this—they had made a statement today and they were going to have to stand behind it.

Now that it was over, he turned his head at last. As he had expected, Liv was standing there, and the look on her face as their eyes met made Major feel dirty, and foul, and guilty, and mad as hell. He despised himself for being part of this, yes, but Liv also had no idea what it was like to have to run New Seattle. She had no idea how lucky she was that she didn't have to know.