Williams looked down at her in surprise. "This from the lady who jumped her car over my fence."
"That was fun compared to being near this one. The Gaunts follow him, like a dog would its master. I can't explain it, but he's dangerous," she told him.
Again, he nodded. "You should go back."
"No, I want to stay. I want to hear what he has to say," she told him.
Williams eyed her for a moment, then nodded and drew closer to the gate, calling out, "State your business."
"My business?" Pete said back. "I'd think that to be obvious. I've come to negotiate with you."
"Negotiate what?" Williams asked.
"Your surrender, of course," Pete told him.
Williams looked at him for a moment in surprise. "I don't think I understand. I wasn't aware we were at war."
Pete laughed. "Of course we are, sir. Just look around you. A war between the living and the dead."
"Not much of a war, if you ask me," Williams replied. "More like an epidemic. One we plan to cure."
Pete cocked his head to the side. "You don't think of this as a war? I'm insulted."
Williams was obviously thrown by that. "Look, you've obviously managed to retain your human intellect, unlike the others. Surely you can see that there's only one way for this to end."
Pete nodded slowly, and when he spoke, his voice was pure ice. "Yes, you're right. There is only one way. However, sir, I have to admit, I think I've reached a slightly different conclusion than you on just what that end will be. After all, you can only hold out in there for so long."
"We're holding out just fine," Williams told him. "And we will continue to do so."
"Yes, I was afraid you'd think that," Pete answered, looking at the concrete slabs and fencing. "Actually, you probably could, for quite some time. I wouldn't doubt it at all. Except, of course, for the small issue of me standing here."
Williams took note of the softly worded threat. "You change things, do you?"
"Obviously," Pete replied. "You see, here's the thing, Colonel. Whether you want to admit it or not, we are essentially at war with one another. My kind eats your kind, and then your kind becomes my kind. There's really no room in that for confusion, wouldn't you agree?”
Williams frowned, clearly not sure he was following the dead man's logic. "The only thing I'm confused on right now is why you think we'd ever just give in to being eaten alive."
"Because there really isn't any other choice. It’s your purpose now, your place in the world. You, and everyone in there, are cattle,” Pete replied with a dark smile. “Sooner or later, I'll find a way in, and when I do, we will feast."
"Unless I have you shot right now," Williams snapped.
"Try it," Pete hissed as several of the fast moving dead jumped from each side of the gate to shield him, growling.
"Shit," Williams muttered.
"Ah, now you begin to see the dilemma," Pete called to him.
Williams shook his head. "This is madness. You're still able to talk and reason. There's no need in this."
"Reason?” Pete asked. “Let me tell you something about reason, sir. When you wake up, dead, look around, and see other dead people eating the living, the only reasonable course of action is to join them. Wouldn’t that make sense? Isn't it reasonable to eat your wife? Your children? Your friends and neighbors? Would you define that as reasonable? Because, let me assure you, I most certainly do."
"You're insane," Williams told him.
"Maybe, but you know what? People aren’t half-bad really, once you get past all the thrashing and screaming. Rather tasty, actually. You’ll find that out for yourself sooner or later. I can only hope you'll still have presence of mind enough to enjoy it."
"Put them down," Williams barked.
The gunners around them opened fire, decimating the dead at the gate. Bunny knew though, despite their attempts, they weren't going to get Pete. He’d planned all of this too carefully, and she doubted he would expose himself without a plan for escape.
She wasn't surprised to find he wasn't among the bodies when the gunfire stopped, either. The bad feeling she’d gotten from him before only deepened as she realized that more than intelligent, Pete was cunning and that made him far more dangerous.
"I'll be seeing you, for dinner," Pete called from outside their field of vision, his laughter tinged with madness as he moved away from the camp.
"You," Williams said to Bunny. "Come with me. I want to know everything you know, and I want to know it now."
The inside of Williams' office was the very definition of ordered chaos. Stacks of folders nearly bursting paper littered every available space. Maps of the city, heavily marked with red ink, covered every inch of the walls. Weapons, some of which even Bunny couldn't identify, were stacked in chairs, or just leaned again the wall.
She took it in as Williams sat behind his desk, lit a cigar, and motioned for her to sit in the only other available chair. Even there, his dress uniform jacket was draped across the back, sporting so many ribbons and medals Bunny wasn't sure how we walked without listing to the side.
"Tell me about this friendly Gaunt of yours," Williams said after a moment, pouring himself a glass of whiskey and offering her one.
Bunny accepted it readily enough, for there was a severe shortage of alcohol in the camp. "His name's Marco, if he's still, you know, alive-ish."
"Alive-ish," Williams echoed. “I guess it’s one of many new words we’re going to need.”
"I think we're going to need more than some new words, Colonel," she told him as she
