Chapter 27

Tom awoke feeling more refreshed than he had in weeks. Yesterday's long afternoon nap followed by a full night of dreamless sleep had truly done wonders. As his eyes opened, he saw that Dana was still cuddled up tightly to the now dormant Mia, a broad, happy smile stretched across her lips even in sleep. With an affectionate smile, he stretched to kiss Mia's cool lips and then, more lightly, Dana's very warm ones.

While doing so, he noticed that, sometime after he had fallen asleep, Mia had again dressed in his sweat pants and t-shirt. He could easily guess what she had done. He suppressed the sudden surge of worry; she was obviously okay. Briefly he wondered how she had managed to do battle for the second night in a row without having fed. He promised himself that he would find a way to get her to Peter's house no matter what restrictions were in place. She surely had to be in dire need.

He rose from the bed and slipped on his boxers before wandering out in the direction of the kitchen to start a pot of coffee brewing. He stopped momentarily as he reached the living room. The back of a head was visible over the top of his couch. He relaxed and continued walking when he recognized it as Mark's.

Mark's head was tilted to rest on the back of the couch. His eyes were closed and he was snoring softly. Tom stifled a laugh as he saw the line of drool that extended from the corner of his friend's widely gaping mouth to his chest. The desire to laugh ceased when he proceeded a little further and saw that Mark's right arm was in a sling and a leg, fortunately the left one, was in a full cast. The upper part of his shirt bulged with the bandages that were wrapped tightly around his ribs, and his left hand was draped protectively over the crutch that lay across his lap.

Doing his best to move quietly, Tom completed his intended task and then headed to the bathroom for his morning ablutions. When he returned, the coffee was ready. Filling two cups, he walked back to the living room and waved one under Mark's nose.

Mark came awake immediately, his good hand reaching for the cup even before his eyes opened. "Ahhh," he sighed blissfully, "that's the second best way to wake up that I can think of."

Tom, careful not to ask what the best way was, said mildly, "Good morning, sleeping beauty. What brings you to my couch so bright and early? Jenny finally get a good look at you and tell you to get out?"

Before Mark could answer, Tom added, "Oh, and did you just end your sentence with a preposition? Your old professors would be appalled."

"First you give me coffee and then you insult me," Mark replied in an injured tone, "You're quite the contrary bitch." He brightened as a smirk twisted his lips. "Since you're being so picky, how about: that's the second best way to wake up that I can think of, asshole? As to the rest, I peeked in on you when I first got here. Even though I was told that my errand was fairly urgent, I couldn't bring myself to disturb you and your, uh, company. Dana, Tom? Really? You do know that she's young enough to be..."

"My younger sister?" Tom interrupted. "It's all very innocent. I swear. She was a bit frightened by everything that was going on in the city and just wanted to spend the night someplace safe."

"Uh huh," Mark replied in a tone of frank disbelief.

He appeared to be about to say more when the object of their conversation walked into the room wearing only her Pittsburgh PD t-shirt and a pair of panties. She paused when she noticed Mark's presence, but, with a slight shrug of her shoulders, continued forward.

"Good morning. Do I smell coffee?" she asked hopefully.

"Good morning, and you sure do," Tom replied, "Have a seat and I'll get you a cup."

"Mmmm," she said contentedly after the first sip, "much better than that swill at the station."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Tom replied before switching his attention back to Mark, "You mentioned an urgent errand?"

"Yep," Mark answered. "Look at this," he ordered gruffly as he hit a button on the tv remote. A Massengill commercial appeared on the screen.

"Are you saying that I'm not fresh and clean?" Tom asked.

Mark grunted with amusement and then grumbled, "Bad timing. Keep watching. They've been showing what I want you to see nonstop all morning."

After a few more commercials and a notice indicating that the day's scheduled programming had been preempted for a special news report, an elderly and dignified anchor began summarizing the events in Pittsburgh over the past few days. After recapping the assurances of the federal authorities that it was nothing more than the outbreak of an unusual disease, the anchor said, "But the official explanation fails to account for what we are about to show you. I warn you that the video that you are about to see contains scenes of violence which are not suitable for sensitive viewers."

The anchor's head and shoulders were replaced by footage that had been filmed from a corner room of one of the hotels close to the point. The windows had been opened and the screens popped out to give the cameraman a clean shot. The camera was pointed down at a sharp angle and showed a group of five unarmed men rushing toward a far larger group of heavily armed soldiers and policemen who were gathered around a line of bright yellow horses topped with flashing yellow lights. Barely perceptible over the cameraman's breathing, Tom could hear the terse shouts of the police for the other group to stop. Guns came up as those orders were ignored. Tom noticed that it was a city police officer, all of whom were at least vaguely aware that the threat was not a mere illness, who opened fire first. The other men joined in and the five jerked backwards under the impact of hot lead before falling motionless to the pavement.

"Holy [beep]," the cameraman blurted out angrily, "those [beep] just shot those poor [beep] down like dogs! I can't believe this [beep]!"

The furious tirade continued for a few minutes until it suddenly choked off when the bodies twitched violently and began to rise. As the police and soldiers stood in stunned disbelief, they renewed their charge. When they were less than ten yards away, guns were lifted and fired. The bodies again fell to the ground. The police and soldiers gathered in a close group, and it was obvious that a heated argument was taking place. The group broke apart and pairs of men grabbed the wooden horses that formed the barricade and carried them twenty yards farther down the street from their fallen adversaries. They had no sooner set up their new line when the dead rose to their feet yet again. This time there was no hesitation before gunfire broke out.

Once the undead were again motionless, one of the city police officers knocked over a barricade and kicked it violently until it was in splinters. By the time he was finished, they were again being charged. When the barrage of rifle fire ended this time, that same officer, along with several others, grabbed sharp shards of wood from the broken barricade and sprinted to the fallen ferals. They stabbed each body repeatedly until they could be certain that no heart had gone unpierced.