Fox stirred awake when Vince crawled to the bathroom.  If whatever they had been called for happened that day, they’d be in bad shape.  Next to him, Lilly slept naked.  She wasn’t his type, but she wasn’t bad.  She’d been timid and submissive, yet eager.  She was a bit thin for his tastes with nonexistent breasts and short hair.  Fox hated her tattoos.  But he loved her long legs, and ass.  The highlight of his night had been when Tori had abandoned an unconscious Vince and joined him and Lilly.

            He’d never seen Vince in the sheets before, but it was evident that the girls could hold their liquor better than Vince.  Thinking about what might lay ahead, Vince had decided to hold off from drinking.  Being tired would be bad enough, but he didn’t need a hangover.  He knew he’d done the right thing when he saw Tori move into the bathroom to check on Vince.

            While he was up, Fox considered rousing Lilly for another fuck.  Instead, he gently trailed his finger up and down the smooth skin of her back as she slept.  She moaned, and then resumed her soft snore.  He appreciated her smooth back and loved its feel.  He could have lived without the painted flames that marred her.

            The sun was barely up.  Inside of his window, Fox spotted a moth flapping its wings against the glass.  He wondered how it got inside.  Fox considered putting his head down and letting sleep take him for another couple of hours.  If he rolled out of bed, he’d probably be charged with taking care of Vince.

            Before he could lie back down, the peace of the morning was shattered by a pound on the door.  Lilly’s eyes shot opened and she nearly screamed.  Vince moaned for whoever was at the door to shut up.  The pounding continued.  Fox could only assume he was about to be called for whatever service he and Vince had been selected to perform.

            “Just sit tight,” Fox said and kissed Lilly on the lips.  As he walked past the bed, Fox gave Lilly’s butt a swat.

            The soldier on the other side of the door was young, but a few years older than Fox and Vince.  He was a rank ahead of them and a real prick about it.

            “Wilson,” Fox said.

            “Mann.”

            “What brings you to my doorstep?”

            “You and your partner are being summoned.  You’re to report to the main barracks in thirty minutes.”

            “Great.  Will we be seeing you there?”

            “Good day,” Wilson said and walked off.

            Fox smiled.  Wilson hadn’t been invited to the party.  After closing the door, Fox moved toward the bathroom.  Lilly asked him who was at the door, but he ignored her.

            “Vince,” he said “get yourself together.  We have to be at the barracks in thirty minutes.”

*

            They’d done what Sanchez had asked and finished the movie.  Returning to the hotel had been easier than Catherine had expected.  They hadn’t spotted a patrol until they were close to the hotel.  Then they’d only had to duck behind some shrubs for a few minutes.  It reminded her of when she used to sneak out of her parents’ house.  Before returning to their own room, they’d roused Phil Harker.  If he was spotted, a preacher would look a lot less suspicious than Catherine and Frank.  Besides, someone else had to know what was going on in case someone came for them before the rest of their people.

            When they returned to the room, Catherine spent her guard shift staring down at the pistol.  The others had bestowed so much responsibility on her, but right now she had so little control over the situation.  All she could do was trust that Sanchez wasn’t setting them up to be slaughtered covertly.  Or perhaps she could do something.  She’d spent the rest of the night thinking of a way to guarantee their friend’s honesty.

            Catherine was already awake when a knock on their door startled Frank out of his sleep.  It was Scott.

            “Wake up, there’s something going on.”

            Both Frank and Catherine stepped outside in time to see a few formations of soldiers walking past the base.  A few of them eyed the hotels.  Catherine could feel the hatred radiating from them.

            Realizing she was holding the pistol out in front of her, Catherine quickly put her hands behind her back.  She hoped none of the troops had noticed.

            “Some of them look pissed,” Scott said.  “I’m glad they’re not coming for us.”

            “Did you get a message last night?” Catherine asked.

            “Yeah.  Harker’s gathering a congregation right now,” he said.  “Do you think we can trust Sanchez?”

            “I don’t see another option.  Even if he is double crossing us, being outside gives us a better chance.”

            “When they pass, you’d better get back to your wife,” Frank said.

            “How’s Erika?” Catherine asked.

            “She’s pretty shaken up, but she’s doing okay.  Lucy’s still angry with me.”

            “They look like they had a rough night,” Frank commented, pointing out two soldiers at the end of the parade.  They were in their early twenties.  One of them was leaning on the other, and they shared something out of a thermos.  Catherine recognized the signs of hangover right away.  They reminded her of the time she got drunk at a party when she was fifteen.  “I’d kick their asses into next Tuesday if they went on duty like that under my command.”

            They probably thought they were going off to be war heroes.  For her people’s sake, Catherine hoped they were wrong.

            A few minutes after the formation passed, Scott said his goodbyes and crossed the street, back to his hotel.  They watched him shrink in the distance and kept watching after he entered.  Though Catherine wasn’t sure that someone would snatch her before she got to see her friend again, she was sure that the moment was the last lull that she’d feel in a while.  She felt the weight of their situation pressing down on her, but she also felt calm and relaxed.

*

            Turnbull had slept light, only getting an hour or two before they called out to Olmstead.  They’d given the radio operator their location, and claimed that there were only five of them.  He’d offered the fabled vaccination in exchange for the safe passage of Sam’s people.  Of course he didn’t expect Olmstead to hold up his end of the bargain.  As he’d hoped, Olmstead had agreed to the terms, likely planning on snatching a rebel or two alive for information.

            During the call, Rick had taken an hour or two to sleep.  Turnbull woke him two hours later so they could make final preparations.  By now, the younger Turnbull was used to the extra energy provided by adrenaline in a dangerous situation.  Gideon doubted his brother had ever taken part in this kind of combat, but Rick looked like he’d hold up fine.

            The new arrivals were wild cards.  Paterson swore by the two kids, but the others were a mystery.  McRee seemed like he’d be good to have around, but his daughter was inexperienced, and Jasper seemed like he was ready to fall apart.

            Just roll with it, he thought.  There was no way to get rid of the strangers now.  At least not without causing considerable tension between himself and Paterson’s people.

            When Gideon was confident that the lower levels were as secure as they could be, he began waking the rest of the sleeping troops.

*

            Sam hadn’t slept well.  When he checked in on the others he noticed that between his people and the new arrivals, only Sarah, himself, and Ted weren’t gripped by nightmares.  In their rooms, Helen, Jack, Sal, and Jasper were all writhing and moaning like they were being tortured.  By that point, Sam couldn’t deny that something strange was going on.  They all looked like they were having the same dream.

            The dead have been coming back to life and attacking the living for the last twenty-two years, why not this? Sam conceded.

            Sarah was on her knees gaping at her father.  She looked worried, but not too shocked.

            “He won’t wake up.”

            Apparently, Jack had had a similar experience on the transport.

            “When will this end?” she pleaded.

            Sam didn’t know what to say.  When the dead had first started to walk, the hope was that it would pass.  Maybe the medical community would find a silver bullet to kill the beast.  They were walking corpses, so they had to rot away after a few weeks.  Well those weeks turned into months, then into years and the dead were still out there in maybe greater numbers than when the 1980’s rolled around and the cities had belonged to them for over a year.  The dead never stopped returning to life and a magical cure had only recently come about, only to be nearly destroyed by two armies of mad men.  On top of it all, nobody was sure that it would actually work.

            Sam kicked the floorboards under his foot and walked to the room across the hall, where Ted snored peacefully.  At least someone was getting some rest.

            Maybe a half an hour after sunup, the dreamers woke and bolted into the hallway.  When they were outside of their doorways, the quartet said in unison: “they’re coming.”

            Sam wasn’t sure if they were talking about Olmstead’s troops or someone worse.

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