would be a shame to add the interior of your cranium to it.'
Yawning and bewildered, Don stared around in confusion, trying to find a seat in the crowded auditorium. The rows were full, and more people stood in the back and in the aisles. He got his first sense of just how many people occupied the skyscraper. They milled around, half-awake like himself, wondering what was going on. The sounds of rustling papers and nervous babbling filled the room.
Don searched the crowd, looking for a familiar face. There was no sign of Jim or Danny, and he wondered where they were. He thought of Frankie, wondered if she was okay, and then pushed it from his mind. His head pounded. He'd woken with a hangover and then realized just how little sleep he'd gotten before the alarm sounded.
'Don! Hey, Don!'
Smokey waved to him from the front. Don weaved his way down the aisle and then cut through the row, excusing himself to each person that he slid by. He took a seat between Smokey and Etta, who still had in her curlers. Leroy sat next to her, his eyes half-open, his face cloudy.
'Where are your friends?' Smokey asked.
'Frankie's still in sick bay, I guess. I don't know where Jim and Danny are. What's going on?'
'Emergency meeting.'
'This better not be another god-damned drill,' Leroy grumbled.
'I don't think it is,' Smokey muttered. 'Didn't you guys notice how troubled Forrest was acting tonight, when he stopped by the card game?
Something's up.'
'Any idea what?' Don asked.
'Looks like we're about to find out,' Etta said, nodding to the front.
Bates walked out onto the stage, flanked by Forrest and Stern. There were scattered cheers, some brief applause, and a few shrill whistles; but for the most part, the audience was subdued. Without pausing, Bates strolled up to the podium and spoke into the microphone.
'Good morning.'
There was an electronic squeal of feedback. He paused, and then repeated himself.
'Good morning. I know that it's very early, and I want to thank you all for your promptness. I assure you that this is not a drill.'
A rumble of concern rippled through the crowd.
'At approximately 0100 hours-'
'Wait a minute,' Etta interrupted. 'Aren't we forgetting something?'
Bates paused, and bowed his head.
'Of course,' he apologized. 'Thank you, Etta. Forrest, will you lead us?'
The crowd rose to their feet and a hush fell over them. Forrest stepped to the podium and sang the first line of the National Anthem.
'Oh, say can you see ...'
Don stared in amazement. Forrest sounded like an angel. It was like Marvin Gaye had been reincarnated in the body of this hulking soldier.
Goose bumps broke out along Don's arms as he joined in. The crowd's voices swelled as one, buffeting against him like waves. Many people were holding hands and many more were crying.
When it ended, Forrest launched right into another song, one that Don didn't recognize.
'In times of wounded hearts, when souls are torn apart...'
Next to him, Smokey, Etta and Leroy sang along. Don listened to the words.
'We need to let them heal, and time it will reveal. For all the things that we believe in-freedom in our time, for all the people in the world.
I know that we will rise.'
Don shivered.
'I know that we will rise ...'
When the song was over, Don leaned over to Smokey and whispered, 'What was that?'
'It's a song called 'Our Dream,' by a musician named Fiz.'
'The pop star? He was from New York, right?'
'Yeah. He wrote it about the first terrorist attack on the city, but now we've adopted it.'
'What happened to him? He was huge!'
Smokey shrugged. 'Probably got eaten-or ate somebody else.'
'Thank you all, again,' Bates said.
The crowd returned to their seats, quieting down once more, with the exception of some sniffling and one woman's sobs.
'At approximately 0100 hours, our communications center detected a large, mobile zombie force. We determined that they were heading here, to Ramsey Towers.'
