Thank you for reading!
The adrenaline from pushing Liv's new boyfriend around lasted until Major got home, when he realized he couldn't talk to Ravi about what he had just learned, because either Ravi didn't know and Major couldn't afford to tell him, or Ravi did know and Major had to deal with the fact that his roommate had been keeping that secret from him.
Liv was Renegade. How had he not realized that before? Of course she would be. It was just the kind of over-the-top crusadery she wouldn't be able to resist. But what the hell was he going to do? He couldn't turn her in to Chase Graves. It was unthinkable. But he also couldn't allow her to continue operating—every new zombe brought into the city increased the pressure on all of them. How could she not see that?
He lay in bed awake most of the night trying to decide what to do; he dragged himself into work the next day still wrestling with the knowledge and how to use it to make things better. He had to struggle to focus in the meeting Chase Graves had called—a dangerous distraction, considering this was the meeting when they were planning to roll out the bait to draw Russ Roche and whoever he was working for out into the open once and for all.
Graves had started the meeting with the standard problem—not enough brains, and the brains that did come in disappearing somewhere between arrival and final distribution.
Leaning over the table, Graves concluded, "We may, however, have a solution." He pointed to a box in the middle of the table. "High-tech crates, manufactured by a Japanese security firm. If breached, they signal their location."
"They look expensive," Lambert pointed out.
"They are. Major will test them out in the field; if they work, we'll make the switch."
"Yes, sir." Major was the test; the boxes were the bait. Now to wait and see if Roche would bite.
He didn't have long to wait. Roche came up to him in the locker room as he was changing out of his uniform immediately after the meeting. "Hey, you serious about wanting to pitch for the majors … Major?"
Feigning a smile at a joke so old he thought he'd heard it while he was still in diapers, Major nodded. "I've been warming up in the bullpen. Put me in, Coach."
"It's not quite as simple as that. There are steps to take."
"One small step for zombiekind?"
"Something like that. Just … be ready for anything. These people are serious—they're not going to take you on just my word."
"And here I thought you were the guy."
"Oh, I am. I am." Roche grinned. "You wouldn't get this far if I didn't trust you absolutely. But caution is important, if the whole thing's not going to fall apart."
"Well, you just let your people know that I am a cautious man. Until it's time for boldness, and then, watch out."
"And that is what I like about you." Roche punched him in the arm and headed out.
Major finished changing and left the locker room. Chase Graves caught up with him and they walked together to Graves' office.
"Has our friend Russ Roche taken the bait?"
"He has. He says it's time to meet with his boss."
"Be careful."
He didn't have to tell Major twice.
In the office, Lambert and Hobbs were watching a video on the big screen over the conference table. "Commander. You need to see this."
Major followed, his eyes widening as he recognized Angus McDonough, in his preacher's robes. Angus was in the middle of a sermon, zombied out with his white hair and red eyes. "The only creature more despicable than a human is a zombie who murders other zombies! These infidels go by the name of Fillmore Graves, because they want to fill more graves with you, brothers and sisters." The audience was into it, whooping and calling out "Yes, brother!" in the background. "They have the guns, but we've got God on our side." Angus turned and pointed his hammer at the screen, and Major read the title of the video in the lower part of the screen: "Brother Love: Humans Are Food."
"This went up last night," Hobbs said. "It's blowing up."
"Oh, boy," Major breathed, for lack of the profanities he would have liked to have spouted. This man was doing his level best to tear New Seattle apart. He only wished he knew what Angus was getting out of it all. Fame, he supposed … but there must be money, too. The McDonoughs didn't do anything unless there was money in it.