studied the skyline and the burning city below.
'Jesus Christ.'
His dark skin had gone ashen. He was still staring when Bates arrived.
Both stood speechless.
The occupants of Ramsey Towers slept.
Entwined in the arms of his lover, Carson dreamed of Kilker. In the dream, Kilker teetered on the edge of the roof, his body blanketed by zombie birds. But when he went over the side, Kilker flew instead of falling, flapping his arms and cackling as he hovered above the helicopter pad. He swooped toward Carson, dead but alive, pleading with Carson to have sex with him, just as Maynard had done with the corpses.
Carson ran back inside the building, and stood there panting, his back to the door. Kilker clawed on it from outside. Carson whimpered in his sleep.
After falling asleep in the comfortable throes of her masturbatory post-orgasm, Nurse Kelli had a nightmare as well. In it, she was walking down the halls of the Mount Sinai Hospital in Queens, where she'd worked before the world fell apart. The lights still worked, the rooms buzzed with the sounds of equipment, yet the hospital was deserted. Her heels echoed in the silent halls. Someone had painted the word HORROR on the walls in blood, over and over again. She touched one wall and her fingertips came away sticky. She was still wondering what it meant, when a zombie lurched out of the ICU and rasped, 'I will show you horror, wench.' Kelli woke screaming, and couldn't fall back asleep.
Steve dreamed of his son. They were in a field near their home in Ontario, and his son was flying a kite. Steve glanced up at the kite, watching it soar through the clear blue sky. The sunlight blinded him for a moment. When he looked back down, his son was gone. Frantic, Steve ran through the field, calling his son's name. Unfettered, the kite rose into the sky, disappearing behind the clouds. Tears ran down Steve's face as he slept. He moaned his son's name, and then rolled over, entangled in the sheets.
Don's dream was an alcohol-fueled exercise in surrealism. In it, he was back at his home in Bloomington. He opened the refrigerator to make a snack for himself and Myrna, and a bologna sandwich started talking to him in a language he didn't understand. Despite that obvious handicap, he continued trying to communicate with it, until Rocky padded into the kitchen, rose up on his hind legs, and wolfed down the intelligent sandwich in two bites.
Smokey thrashed, gripped in the throes of a nightmare. In it, he walked through Ramsey Towers's cafeteria. Etta and Leroy were serving their fellow occupants as dinner entrees. Alarmed, Smokey backed away. When he tried to run, the undead versions of his daughter and son-in-law blocked his way. Smokey's arm lashed out in his sleep, knocking the glass of water containing his false teeth from the nightstand.
Danny sighed happily. He and his father made a trip to the mall, where his daddy bought every comic book there was at the comic store, even the ones he wasn't allowed to read, like Hellblazer and Preacher. The two of them sat on the floor, eating potato chips, wiping their greasy fingers on their clothes, and reading the exploits of Hulk and Spider-Man and the Justice League of America. Then his mother and Rick walked in with even more comics. Carrie entered the room after them, carrying a stack of Godzilla movies. His new stepsister lay in the nook between her other arm and her chest. In the dream, all the grown-ups were getting along.
Jim did not dream. He slept the sleep of the dead, sound and still.
Frankie dreamed of Martin.
They stood in a forest. The lush greenery was aromatic and vibrant.
Frankie could smell honeysuckle and maple and pine. A light breeze ruffled the leaves over their heads.
'You gonna talk this time, preacher-man?' Frankie asked.
'Yes.'
'What is this place? Where are we?'
'Earth,' Martin answered. 'White Sulphur Springs, West Virginia, to be exact. This is where Jim and I met.
The town is down yonder through that hollow. And my old church, too.'
'So what are we doing out here in the damn woods?'
'Waiting.'
'For what?'
'For them.'
The foliage parted, and a man, woman, and child emerged, cautiously looking around. The group of survivors crept past Frankie and Martin, seemingly unaware of their presence. Leaves rustled beneath their feet.
'Who are they?' Frankie asked.
'Survivors, like yourself. They haven't seen a zombie in over a week, so they think it's safe to come out.'
'And is it?'
'No. As a matter of fact, it's even deadlier now.'
'I guess so.' Frankie smirked. 'There's dead people walking around everywhere, not to mention the dead animals and shit.'
'But that's just it, Frankie.' Martin swept his hand around. 'Do you see any zombies? Can you smell them?'
She sniffed the air and glanced around. She smelled pine and moss, but no decay or rot.
'No. Where are they? Waiting in hiding and planning on ambushing these folks? We should warn them if that's so.'
'Let's follow them. I reckon you ought to see this for yourself. That's why I'm here. To show you what's to come.'
'You're just as crazy now as you were when you were alive, Preacher.'
