"What's martial law, daddy?" June yelled.
"Oh, God," her father replied. "Martiallaw is where the government and the army take over. Did they say somethingabout martial law?"
"Yeah, they said it was a possibility."
"I got through!" her mother yelled from thekitchen. "Hello? We have an emergency here. We have a missing child. Oneis sick and another has been attacked."
There was a pause as she listened. They all listened.
"Yes, a man bit her." More listening."What are you saying? What do you mean too busy? Well, how long?" Apause. "Six hours? Yes, we'll wait. Thank you." Little Jane watchedher mother hang up the phone, a bewildered look on her face.
"They said it would be six hours," she said toLittle Jane's father. "Apparently, things are going wrong all over thecity. It's going to take them six hours to get anybody here to help us."
"Jesus Christ," Little Jane said.
"Watch your mouth," her mother yelled at her.There was nothing to do but wait. Her mother and father tied the door to LittleJane's room closed with a piece of rope from her father's rock climbing kit,knotting one end of the rope around the doorknob to her room and the other endaround the doorknob to Ruby's room.
Together, they all sat on the couch, Ruby and Little Janesandwiched in between their parents. Caitlyn sat in the recliner away from them,apparently dozing. They had tried calling Caitlyn's mother, but there had beenno answer. When they failed repeatedly, Caitlyn had just closed her eyes andstarted snoring away. Jude's father had never showed up.
A nightmare played out before them on the TV. A militaryman came on the TV, and pronounced that the city was indeed under martial lawand that everything was going to be alright. They were supposed to wait forhelp. Little Jane felt comforted by every word that the military man said, andfor the first time that day, she felt like everything was going to be fine.
She wondered what would happen to Jude, trapped in herroom, she still banged on the door every now and then, but for the most partshe had settled down. Was she sick or was she dead like the scientists on theTV said? What about Grace? Where had she gone? She had certainly looked deadwhen they had abandoned her face-down in the pool on the rooftop. Little Janedoubted she would ever go into a pool again.
Thinking about a dead Grace wandering around The Encoresent a chill down her spine, and her dad pulled her close.
"It's all going to be fine, you know. We're going tobe ok," he said.
Caitlyn liked those words. She leaned her head on herfather's shoulder and closed her eyes. He kissed her on the top of the head.
When she awoke, it was nighttime. Everyonewas asleep, the TV still on, still marching nightmarish image after nightmarishimage across the screen. To her right, Caitlyn's breath rattled in her throat. Someonehad thrown a blanket over Caitlyn in the night, and she struggled underneathit. She sounded like Billy Smithers did when he had suffered that asthma attackduring P.E.
"Caitlyn?" she asked. The coughing and gurglingstopped, and Caitlyn's eyes opened, her head turning to look at Little Jane.With just one look, Little Jane knew that something was wrong. "Are youok?" she asked. The dead eyes locked on her, and in that glance, LittleJane saw something that scared her... hunger.
Caitlyn, her former friend, struggled to extricateherself from the blanket, eventually falling out of the chair and onto thefloor, the blanket wrapped around her limbs. Little Jane didn't know what todo, so she did what the girls in the horror movies always did; she screamed atthe top of her lungs. Caitlyn crawled towards them, and Little Jane pointed herfinger at her, still screaming at the top of her lungs as her parents wereroused from their slumber. In the hallway, they could hear Jude begin herbanging against the door anew.
Caitlyn, still crawling, the blanket wrapped around herlegs, reached out for her mother's foot, and then Ruby added her own scream tothe cacophony in the penthouse. Her mother sprang up onto the couch and thenhopped over the back, pulling first Ruby and then Little Jane over. Her fatherran into his bedroom and came out with a handgun.
"Caitlyn," he said, trying to get herattention. "Caitlyn, stop moving or I'm going to shoot you."
"Brian!" her mother yelled.
"No, Daddy, you can't! She's just sick."
Caitlyn was drawn to Brian's voice, and as she freedherself from the blanket, she slowly rose to her feet, her hands formed intoclaws and her face drawn into a ravenous grimace.
"Stay right there!" Brian said, his voicequaking with the fear of what he might have to do. Caitlyn didn't listen.
"Caitlyn, stop!" Little Jane yelled, hopingthat somewhere in her head Caitlyn was still alive, still capable ofunderstanding the words that were coming out of her mouth. But Caitlyn didn'tstop, she kept moving towards Little Jane's father.
When she was within a foot, the little girl, the friendthat Little Jane had grown up with and known since kindergarten, reached outwith one of her claw hands and put her hand onto the barrel of her father's gun.Her father closed his eyes and pulled the trigger.
But Little Jane didn't close her eyes. She saw it all. Thebullet entered Caitlyn's chest just below her right shoulder. Almostsimultaneously, Little Jane saw a cloud of gore erupt from her and a wad ofstuffing fly out of the recliner that Caitlyn had died in. Little Jane knewthat Caitlyn had died because, despite the wound that she had received,despite the blood that was splattering onto the hardwood floors, she keptshuffling towards her dad, her arms outstretched.
Little Jane understood now. She understood what was goingon. They really were the dead. Those that said they were just sick people werefooling themselves. "Kill her, Daddy," she said, wanting Caitlyn togo away.
Her father screamed as he backed away from Caitlyn. Hepulled the trigger again, another bullet hole, more gore, and the same result.
"In the head, Brian," her mother said, hervoice pragmatic and cold.
Little Jane's father looked at
